Sunday, October 10, 2021

 Sunday, October 10, 2021

 

 I didn't have the best night's sleep last night, but neither was it the worst. I slept straight through from 10 pm to 1:30 when I got up to pee. Three and a half hours is pretty good.  I got up again an hour later, thinking it had only been a few minutes. I must have fallen asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. It's often that way. I was up again an hour later for another pee. After that, it didn't go as well.  It wasn't horrendous. It was just dozing and wakefulness. When I was awake, I varied between unpleasant thoughts and meditating.  The unpleasant thoughts didn't dominate, but I can feel the vestigial residue of those thoughts in my body even as I write now.  In this case, the physical followed the mental. I was doing just fine, symptom-free until those thoughts crept into my mind.

    The moment I got up, I sent Yvette a Happy Birthday message. She's 52 today. I've known her since birth. Wow!  I have plans to join her and her friends at her favorite bar.  I bought earplugs for the occasion.

     I followed Elsa's lead this morning, turning left going out of the driveway. I walked the length of the street I've been avoiding because of the crazy loose dog for fear of Elsa's safety. As I turned up Hiolani to go to the neglected street, a car came down the hill slowly. I thought, "Ah, this is what it looks like when someone drives the speed limit." As the car passed me, the driver's window opened, and I got a huge hello. I recognized the woman but couldn't remember her name. When I came to the end of the neglected street, she came up behind me. I had to ask her name again. Rosemary. She didn't ask mine. Did she remember it? I found out she lives a good half mile further up the Kaiminani and drives down here to walk. There is another woman, Tammy, who drives up from below us to walk here.  It seems our neighborhood is a favored walking spot. 

    My foot feels fantastic today, not perfect, but better. I think the acupuncture pen made the difference. I didn't use it on my foot; I used it on the outside of my left thigh and left calf. That's all. The one that made the most significant difference was the work on the calf. I could feel the charge traveling down to my foot.  Today, I had less numbness. Amazing! 

    I started my day as I always do, posting last year's updates on the public blog.  I had nothing for October 10, 2020. This has happened before. If I can't find an update in my word file, I look for it in my old emails. I have always found it in the past. Nope. No October 10, 2020.   When I checked, I had entries for the 11th, 12th, 13th, and I then had two for the 14th. I realized I had messed up my days and dates.  I relabeled them and posted one for the tenth. 

     I had the M and W sisters this morning. We used to meet during the week. Then they got involved in baseball, which met on the same afternoons we did. Their mom asked me to meet with them on Friday afternoon and Saturday and Sunday morning.

     Yesterday I learned the M, the younger sister who is repeating first grade, has problems with episodic memory as well as associative. She could not remember the details of a story she had created two minutes earlier.  I called the mom immediately after our session yesterday. Yes, this is a problem. This is why she was left-back.  She and her husband were very worried about it. I led the mom through the fear release, a parent's fear for a child that doesn't function as expected.     

Today, I started the class with M as I usually did, with the first Carpenter Story.  M closed her eyes and recited the first two paragraphs from memory. Up to now, she hasn't been able to remember the words and decoded them all. She then asked if we would work on the story about Pepper and Salt, the dog, and the cat. Wow!!!!!  She had a perfect recall of the details of her story.

 When I started working with M, it took her the full half-hour to read the first story. Now, she zoomed through the first four stories in less than fifteen minutes.  Yes, it's part reading and part memory of the story.  I am using that memory to support her reading.  Most of these words should become part of her 'sight' vocabulary. Carpenter has structured the stories, so each subsequent story includes words from the previous ones. 

I had the session with W, who is in fifth grade.  Her word recognition skills have improved considerably. We have been working on a middle fourth-grade level. Today I couldn't get the fourth-grade material up on the Zoom screen. Instead, I pulled up the 5th-grade material I prepared for our work in the future.  The words were much longer, more complicated. The vocabulary was at a higher level and had a more complex sentence structure. It was a leap. She could read most of the words, but it was hard work. She got sloppy every once in a while.  I reviewed the meaning of the words and the passages, pulling out logical possibilities.  She did pretty well. One paragraph took most of our time.  I will have to find out if she would like to continue at this level or go back to the fourth-grade level.

      I called mom right after I was through with both girls for the day. Was M's demonstration of memory a surprise to her? Yes!!! Fantastic! It is possible that the simple release of fear exercise I did with mom made this breakthrough possible.  Being afraid that you're not going to be able to do something makes it more likely you won't. Children are sensitive to parents' feelings. They know how their parents feel about their problems. Now, at least mom's fear had been lifted.  I told mom to make sure that everyone who holds any fear for this child should do the release. The only fear that she should have to carry is her own.  Then we can release that. Even if there is still a residue of a memory problem, it will be easier to resolve.

    On the NPR show On Being, Krista Tippet interviewed  Mike Rose, an educator, who has a different take on how we should be teaching than what is going on in the schools today.  I agree the emphasis on learning academic skills through memorization is deadly.  I also believe this was a necessary phase the educational system had to go through so that it took responsibility for teaching all students equally. The evaluation system is in place. Now, they have to figure out how to teach.

   As I sat working on my updates and the blog, the house shook, once and then once again.  An earthquake.  I don't worry about them. So far, there's been no serious damage, even though we've had one as strong as 7. Today's was a 6.2. Public announcements came on immediately, telling us there was no threat of a tsunami. The problem with earthquakes is they're a warning that we are getting closer to a volcanic eruption. That's a concern. Today's quake was off the southeastern coast, on the other side of the island. If it's from Kiloua, all's good. It is already erupting. If it's from Mauna Loa, it's not so good. Some day, that mountain will blow again. Then we will all be in trouble. When I spoke to Judy about it later, she said no one knew yet which mountain was responsible for the incident.  I called Jean, my hanai sister, so she didn't worry when she heard about the quake on the nightly news,

    While I put it off forever, I listened to the video of Phase-II I made yesterday. The first few slides were good, and then it fell off a cliff. I did some editing of the slides, changing words.  I also saw that the final slide with contact information wasn't clear. I called Tommy to ask for the details. He said he would set it up so a link is available when someone plays the audiofile.

    Once I had done the editing, I was ready to work on making the video. I got dressed, put on make-up, and set up in the library.  I made mistake after mistake. Each time, I had to end the Zoom session and start a new one.  You can't stop and restart a video.  When I was on a roll, Elsa barked, and someone road their farthing motorcycle down the street. I ended the session and started again. The farting motorcycle came back down the street.  I decided it was a sign this wasn't a good day to work on the video. I resolved to try again tomorrow.

    Yvette was ready to go out for her evening birthday celebration. She often hangs out at MyBar in downtown Kona. She told me about the gathering without expecting me to come. I thought, why not? I'd get to see where she spent her time. I had my earplugs in anticipation. 

    I follow Yvette there.  I was surprised at how small the bar was. I think I had visions of clubs I'd seen on TV with large spaces packed with dancing people, often drunk or drugged. This was nothing like that. It was small. Remembering the bars I peeked into on my way to and from school in the Bronx, I have to wonder why I was surprised. They were all narrow spaces with the bar on one side and booths on the other. They all smelled of stale liquor. They were all depressing.

     We were all there early in the evening on a Sunday night. The group gathered for Yvette's celebration made up half the occupants, including the bartender.  We were about seven at that time. Yvette gave me a tour of the place. There was a small back room ad a wraparound porch/lanai that could be used. Besides that, Yvette told me that they blocked off the parking area in front of the bar when it was pack. 

    I left early.  We were mostly masked; some were drinking. I did a little dancing, and then I was ready to go. Someone walked me to the car, very chivalrous.  I pull out of my space easily- and then – keep in mind, I'm doing under 5 mph- you got it. I scraped the right underside of my car on something while making a right turn out of the parking lot. 

Saturday, October 9, 2021

 Saturday, October 9, 2021

 

     I had a great night's sleep. I'm usually a good sleeper, but it's even better when I take some magnesium before bed.  I noticed this morning, I had no leg, hip, nor back pain of late. I think this is because of the adjustments I'm making with my right hip, pulling my right abdominals over to the left and finishing it with a push to the left with the right glutes.  The muscles of the left hip and leg have been overstrained by my curved posture.  Now they can relax.  I still can't reach my left toes.  

     I ran into Vince and Julie on my morning walk. Johnson, a golden retriever, living on Kukuna, was at the gate. Elsa pulled over to check him out.  Neither bark anymore at the other. I don't think Johnson ever did. I can't say the same for my yapping dog. 

   While Vince didn't know Johnson's name, he had other information to share.  He remembered the young fellow who used to ride a hoverboard through the neighborhood.  Apparently, he'd stop by, pick up Johnson, take him for a walk, and then return him.  I knew the young man's name, John. We both wondered what had happened to him; we hadn't seen him around for a while. I knew where he lived and shared that information with Vince and Julie. John lived on a family compound with two houses.  I was concerned the family had lost the houses and was homeless. I changed my usual route to walk past their house.  While I drive past their house every time I drive to town, I haven't walked that route for at least a year.  I was encouraged by the clutter on one of the porches that the family was okay. Probably, John has gone his own way.

   Across the street from that family compound is a densely wooded property. Peering in from the fence makes you feel like you are looking in on a fairy tale.  While the canopy is dense, the ground is clear. Having a large flock of wild chickens on your property will do that.  They weed as they peck the ground for food.

   It was a good day to do laundry. On a clear day, you can dry forever.

   I had sessions with the M & W sisters.  M rereads the same stories from Gail Carpenter's material every day. When we started, it took her half an hour to read the first story. Now, she can read the first four in fifteen minutes. She had asked to read interesting stories in our last session. I thought to write a story with her using my cowriting technique.

    I pulled out the details of the story, the characters, and the main actions. Then I led M as we organized the events of the story in sequence.  As we worked on this, M got up and walked away from the monitor. I thought, "What . . .  ?" When I asked her for more details for the story, he couldn't remember what she had said in the first place. What??????? 

     I called her mom after the session and asked if this was an ongoing problem. Yes, M had trouble remembering things. Is this why she is repeating first grade? Yes. She walked away from the monitor because she was frightened by her inability to remember.

     I told the mom about my visualization to release primitive fears that have no relationship to our current reality. This visualization is based on the theory that children who could not conform to the expectations of the tribe in the era of hunter-gatherers 10,000 years ago had to be put down.  The tribe lived at a survival level; it did not have the luxury of carrying members that could not make contributions.  Someone who created an additional burden was out.  Parents who bore such children understood the consequences for their children and were filled with fear.  While we live in a world where we don't kill people because they cannot perform as normal people, our unconscious minds are programmed to respond as if we did.  

     I lead people in a visualization. I just described it to the mom.  I told her step one is to ask the prefrontal cortex if their child is in danger of being killed because of some deficit.  I could feel mom sliding back into the limbic system. I asked her if specific people in her child's life would kill her: me? Her classroom teacher? Friends? Neighbors? Grandparents?  Mom was able to hold her attention in the prefrontal cortex with the specific questions. Her answers were clearly no. She smiled at the thought; it was so ridiculous. 

   The second step is to imagine a "little you" in the area of the soft spot. Then turn that 'little you' so it is facing the back of the brain and imagine announcing to every cell in your brain that your child is in no danger of being killed.  She did it. I asked her if she felt more relaxed. Yes. That's the test to see if the exercise had meaning.  Mom said dad was even more frightened for M.

   I worked with W, the 5th-grade sister, before I spoke to mom about M. We continued reading 4th-grade material to build up automaticity and fluency.

    Later in the morning, I had a session with adolescent D.  He was in good spirits. I have been noticing an improved state of mind. His classroom teacher said she was seeing the same thing.

Adolescent D. worked hard applying the process I taught him. Blending is still a struggle for him; he can't hold on to the sounds.  He got tired; I took over.  He has been listening to the audiofile. He has he thinks he is grasping what others are saying better.

     Paulette had invited me to come up and visit and husk mac nuts while she cracked them. Paulette and preparing pounds of candied mac nuts as Christmas presents.  Mac nuts have a hard outer sheet, which Paulette cracked with a nutcracker that looked nothing like the one I had as a child.  The one we had was made of metal and U-shaped. You placed the nut in the crotch of the U and squeezed the two hands, crushing the shell between the two metal handles. Paulette was a gadget with a crank sitting on the table affixed to a plank of wood. When you move it from left to right, two metal bars come together, crushing the shell.  It is easier to use; it requires less effort.  

    Under that hard outer shell is another one.  That shell can be peeled off if it is still green. Once it matures, turning dark brown and hard, it's unmovable.  I sat chatting with Paulette as she cracked, and I husked. Since Mike, this is the first time I've been in a purely social situation when connecting to the person hasn't been the only objective. This was lovely. We could talk; we could not. 

    When I started husking, I thought, "I can't do this. I don't have the strength in my fingers." But I kept at it and got the knack of it. I learned more tricks as I went along.  Still, there were some that we barely cracked open. Paulette said those she sets out in the sun. The sun dries and shrinks the inner husks and out pops with sweet white meat of the nut.

    Adam came up carrying his one-year-old, Zion, otherwise known as the Zi-guy, and a chain saw. Judy and Paulette just bought a used car. They want to park one of the three cars they have for the moment under a tree. Adam was going to cut the tree back so the branches wouldn't be over the car, creating excellent perches for pooping birds.

     I had walked there, and I walked back home. Judy and Paulette only live two to three drives away. We live on one-acre properties; it's a greater distance than in a suburban area.

      I listened to Saturday NPR shows, bathed Elsa, and did some house cleaning. Her skin looks fantastic now, but she is still on the antibiotics. Let's see what happens once she's off.

    I finally dressed with a bit of makeup and made a possible final version of the Phase II video. I'll make at least two more tomorrow.

    I opened up a video TED recommended for me. It was a talk by Daniel Amen on the importance of having information about how problems manifest in the brain. So far, we were on the same page. I didn't know anyone was using neuroscience the way I was. This was exciting.  I could understand why I hadn't heard of him before.  I Googled Amen and neuroscience. I got my answer: he is shunned by the neuroscientific community for being a huckster. He showed brain images before and after. Unless he is outright lying, this says something.  However, his imaging costs $4000, and his 'cure' for whatever is wrong with the brain is some supplement, which also costs a fortune.  While I completely agree with him, the brain can be changed, he does not seem to be on the same page I am, after all. However, I look forward to reading his books. I may find out more information on how the brain works and doesn't 

     I'm getting fed up with Off Spring again. The individual stories have some interest, but the arc of the series is maddening. I tried to find out what happened later in the series. I'm beginning to think this series is like Lost or Manifest, maddening. There is no complete resolution.  Besides that, two out of three of the thirty-something 'off spring' are homeless, camping out with family members. The sustaining arc is the sexual frustration between the two main characters. There is only so much of this I can take. Judy said this is what Lost was like. – and then it just ended without resolving the main problem. People were furious.  I started watching Manifest. It looked interesting. Then realized it had a similar structure to Lost. No, no, no, and no. I have enough unresolved problems in my own life. I don't need the burdens of others for whom I can do nothing.  Given what has happened in the last two episodes, I can anticipate the upcoming problems. Yikes! This is bad.

Friday, October 8, 2021

 Friday, October 8, 2021

 

     I had a good night's sleep.  Somewhere in the middle of the night, distressing thoughts entered my mind as I dozed.  I just said, "Stop! Where there's undeniably a problem, this isn't helping." I had the thought of writing both voices in dialogue.  Just thinking of doing that calmed me down. Doing it would slow me down.  I would have time to think of a response before I delivered it. I can't do that when I'm just thinking of having an uncomfortable discussion.

    I switched off my alarm. That bought me ten more minutes in bed.  I was ready to jump up when I did because I had an important realization, clarity.  I seek to understand the world and human relations through concepts.  I know it doesn't do it for everyone, but some of my significant life changes have been motivated by a shift in understanding. 

    This one was triggered by something Shelly said last week.  She said families are either rigid or enmeshed.  Something about this has been nagging at me all week. I planned to ask Shelly to explain why her example of a situation she described would be considered an example of a rigid family structure. It didn't make sense to me. Her example was an incident shortly after she got married. She told her husband she would be out shopping for a few hours. When she returned five hours later, he had already contacted every hospital in the area.  She said she came from a rigid family structure, and this behavior was an example of it.  It didn't fit into my idea of rigid behavior.   Among other problems with that term, enmeshed and rigid are not antonyms.  (See Musings at the bottom of this entry for my thoughts on the subject.)   

   I had an appointment with Shelly today. Mostly I had good news. I was in a great mood.  I had several breakthroughs. What helps me may not help anyone else; I respond to concepts.  The first thought was I could write dialogues between me and people I find difficult to deal with.  Of course, both sides would be coming from me, but that's what happens in my head anyway.  The reality of what they may say may or may not be different from what I envision. I had situations when I explored reality, it wound up being worse than I could ever have imagined. Reality is not necessarily an improvement over imagination.  The problem is not what they have to say; it is how I respond.  I will be okay if I can get that under control, so I'm not reacting out of fear and pain.  The second epiphany was about the structure of social relationships.  I haven't had the chance to put this into action yet, but this could make a huge difference from what I've seen in the past. It already has as I understand how and why I didn't fit well in my family and why I did.

        I used the 'Reacher' Dorothy had me buy a year ago for the first time today.  Both my feet were giving me trouble.  I could reach the right foot to place a toe separator between troubling toes, but I couldn't reach my left foot.  My second toe was rubbing against my first, developing a blister.  Instead of suffering, I finally decided to try the gadget. I was able to grab the pad in the pincher, but my toes were too close together to get the pad between. I found a long-handled hook in the kit.  I wrapped the hook around my second toe a pulled it away from my first, creating space between the toes; then, I could place the pad where I needed it.

       On my morning walk, I ran into Vince and Julie.  They were using an alternate route, and I never walk on that street, but today Elsa wanted to check it out. I limited how far we walk on that street because a dog runs loose that viciously attacked other dogs. I have spoken to at least two people whose dogs had to be taken to the vet for repair. The dog's owner always apologized and paid for the vet bills but never put up a fence.  I told Vince and Julie that I never walked that street because of that dog. Vince said, "Oh, you mean Kelly. She not here anymore." Ah, where did she go? He made a face indicating she's bought the farm. Nice to know I can walk on that street without fear for Elsa's well-being. 

     Paulette finally dropped off her cardboard load for me to take to the recycling center. I saw their container loaded with cardboard for the trash company pick-up. Our trash company does not recycle. The only thing we can recycle in Hawaii now is cardboard and glass. That's it, folks. No paper and no plastic. We used to send our stuff to China.  That deal has fallen through. I hope the mainland is doing better than we are.  

     I headed out to do chores. First top Safeway for a birthday card for Yvette, who will be 52, earplugs so I can go to My Bar for her celebration without worrying about the hearing I have left, vinegar, and Hersey's milk chocolate kisses with whole almonds.  I got a large vinegar, a birthday card that caught my eye for a two-year-old, and four -10 oz bags of kisses. There were at least three more I left for some other hungry customer. I didn't want to take all of them and leave someone else disappointed. Their pharmacy section was minimal; there were no earplugs. I stopped at Long's. They had earplugs, and I bought two more 10 oz. bags of kisses.  I mapped out my course for maximum efficiency.  My next stop was UPS, where I dropped off the Styrofoam I pulled out of Judy's garbage.  After that, I went to the transfer station to drop off my cardboard stash along with Judy and Paulette's. 

    My last stop was at Farm and Garden. I bought a hibiscus from Margo to replace an old one that didn't have the immune to resist parastates. It's a gorgeous multicolored bloom. I haven't seen another bloom since I planted it.  I could see it was loaded with buds, but they just fell off when they were ready to open. I sent a picture to Margo. She suggested Bayers rose and flower care. 

    Most Farm and Garden employees are rough-looking men, not tough, just not devoted to appearance. However, there is a woman there who was groomed to the nines. Her clothes are aloha casual, but she is fully made-up, with carefully selected clothes and tasteful jewelry.  She is also knock out competent. She knows the business inside out. Did I want Bayer's in powder form or liquid? I asked the difference. The powdered form had to be mixed with water and then applied. Liquid, please.  Then I headed home.

 

____-____-_____

MUSINGS:

  The antonym for rigid is loose; the antonym for enmeshed is isolated/contained or insular.   In a rigid family structure, behavior is dictated by rules; in a loose family structure, behavior is arrived at through negotiation.  Possibilities are on a continuum.  A functional family may be on one end of the spectrum versus another, but any family at the extreme pole must be dysfunctional- at least in today's world. 

    In a self-contained family structure, everyone does their own thing without needing to consult or even inform other family members.  In an enmeshed family structure, things are decided jointly.   Again, either in an extreme form is dysfunctional.

    I have trouble imagining how interpersonal relationships worked on the savanna when survival was the focus.  Were all relationships rigidly defined with minimal enmeshment?  Did someone only function in a role as a wife, a husband, a fellow hunter/fighter, a fellow cook, etc.?  One can determine the nature of interpersonal relationships by measuring specific linguistics cues- up to a point.

    In a rigid/ isolated structure, the words they, them, their, theirs, he, she, and it will predominate.  In a loose/enmeshed family structure the words I, me, my, mine, you, your, and yours will  be prominent. There is some agreement on how much of any of these words are appropriate in a healthy situation. In a healthy environment, I assume the rate of use of all the above words hovers somewhere around the middle between the two extreme points. 

     Another distinguishing characteristic between the two extremes is scripted versus improvised conversation. The rigid person relies on a script. The loose person wants everything to be improvised.  A good actor strikes a balance; that's also the case with a good conversationalist.

     The rigid person insists there is "a right" way that everyone agrees upon, and they know what it is. That totally freaks me out. All I have to stand on is my own platform. Anything I think or believe is completely my responsibility. Even if I follow someone else's created order, I am completely responsible for the position I adopt. I can't point to anyone else. It's a scary place to be. I don't believe there is a single 'right way to do most things in today's culture. Our culture is no longer monolithic. We are poly on top of poly- with an extra dose of poly- on top of that. You have to be flexible. 

     Here's an irony: at both the extreme points, the words I and you are confused. I equals you, and you equals I. It's easy to understand how I and you can be confused on the enmeshed side of the coin.  

        A healthy version of that confusion is between mother in infant child.  They should be enmeshed. What's good for that baby is good for that mother, both from the mother's and from the baby's point of view. However, the job of the parent is to separate from the child as they grow.  Just because the parent wants something for their child does not necessarily mean it's what they want or is good for them- regardless of how much the parent is willing to 'sacrifice' to make it happen.  Every parent needs to care for their child because of 'their' ( the parent's_) need. Fortunately, in most cases, the child benefits, but that is not always the case.  When you have adults who cannot discern what they want, how they want the world organized, versus what is actually good for someone else or what the other truly wants, then you start sinking into dysfunction.

      I think an isolated interpersonal relationship style demands a greater degree of rigid social order. Isolation means less discussion and negotiation. If there is going to be any stability, it will have to be a set of rules.  Problem: everyone comes in with their own set of rules. In the bad old days, the man had the 'authority to set the rules. In the best-case scenario, the man and the woman each had their own domains of control. Dad's rules were followed in this domain, and mom's in that. 

     In the isolated relationship structure, the words I, me, my, mine, you, your, and yours are used less frequently. Here's an irony: in an extreme example, that leads to enmeshment too. S.N. Goenka told this story about extreme denial of the 'I.'  He was touring India. He was a known, respected leader of the Vipassana mediation.  In one town, a fellow religious leader came to him for an interview. The conversation went like this: Goenka, "'Your' temple is having a big problem. The town leaders won't allow 'your' elephant to live in 'your' temple." Goenka had no temple and certainly no elephant.  The religious leader belonged to a sect that forbade using the words I, me, my, or mine.  This was done in an attempt to 'eradicate' ego. Good luck! (The goal should be a healthy one instead of an unhealthy one.) This poor fellow was forced into enmeshment because of his denial of the "I.' 

    To most of you, this will be merely abstract thinking. To me, this is an epiphany.  It is a lens through which to look at many relationships in my life.  I think my family leaned toward rigid/isolated. The one exception to that was my relationship with my father. He played Freud to my Anna.  I, me, my, mine were essential concepts.  How else do you do psychoanalysis? I was taught and rewarded for thinking that way. Then I had to deal with my mother, who had no idea what planet I came from. Poor woman!  I assume my dad had no insight into the situation either.  My dad was also excellent at talking about they, them, their and most particularly it.  He ran our mealtime conversation like college courses on religion, philosophy, ethics, mythology, etc.  I did well with that too. 

   Thank God I met Mike.  He was looking for a 'worthy opponent." He saw me like that. Someone who could be his equal in a relationship. He also saw me as just as concerned with the you, your, and yours as I was with I, me, my, and mine.  He frequently confirmed that he never changed his mind about that latter. I'm obviously not seen that way by people who find the first and second-person pronouns as a seasoning for conversational exchanges and never as the main meal.

Thursday, October 7, 2021

 Thursday, October 7, 2021

 

   Another good night’s sleep.  I am so blessed to have the gift of decent sleep.  I know people my age who don’t.  I suffered from insomnia after my father died when I was fifteen. It lasted until the first night slept in my freshman dorm. I was terrified of my mother.

    I am taking longer and longer walks.  I got up when the alarm went off and was out of the house in a reasonable time. Nonetheless, I wound up at home a few minutes before seven and the start of yoga.  I walk slowly, not so much because I can’t walk faster but because I concentrate on how I use my body with every step. I have been working on pulling my right abdominal muscles up to the left to raise that hip and bring it over to the leg, relaxing the muscles around the left hip.  Yesterday, I discovered if I shifted my tush over the left, using my right glutes, it was part of the complex arrangement of my muscles.

     I had already done several rehearsals of the Phase II video of the Phonics Discovery System. Today I planned to do an actual, something I could post. I had a Zoom conference with adolescent D’s teacher at 9:45, and my next appointment wasn’t until 1:30.  I had plenty of time. How about a nap? A nap sounds good. Think of how much better I will feel after a nap. I took that nap. I did feel better. I am a great sleeper, a deep sleeper. I generally feel better when I get up. Thank God. I did have a day there when it didn’t work that way.  All those years at home after my father died, it was one insomniac night after the other. I hope I never have to go through that again. However, I heard from friends and family this is what their lives are like. OMG!

   I finally got up and ordered my day. I started with putting the money I owe Scott for the propane canisters he got filled for me in an envelope where he can get it. Done!  I no longer have to try to remember it.  I also put some of the one-dollar bills I got from the bank into neatly folded sets of three and placed them in that small compartment over my rearview mirror so I could easily dispense them to the homeless as I pass them on the street. I weeded my front yard with vinegar and then took a shower.  I did all the above, and then my alarm went off, warning me to get ready for my 1:30 appointment with Canada A.  He’s an adolescent who prefers video games over everything else. I wonder if that includes eating. 

   I’ve found a Netflix series that I can stick with-sort of, Off Spring. They nearly lost me; I found some of the characters pretty annoying in their dysfunctionality. Then they get lines that throw them in a different light. I find the script interesting. They include one character who is not constantly sitting at the edge of her seat.  She provides rest from the craziness.

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

 Wednesday, October 6, 2021

 

    Another great night's sleep.  I was tired right on cue and in bed when before my bedtime signal went off.  I dozed in the early morning hours. I noticed my stressed feeling. I get irritated more easily with my students when they don't improve as I wish they would.  I realized I put out way more than I get. Well, that makes sense. Mike was a well of renewal for me.

    He didn't do that much; it just that what he did was exactly what I needed.  He was here; he was my safe haven.  We could be in the same space, doing our own thing, and feel totally connected.  I knew he was a safe part of my environment.  I can assume he felt the same about me because he commented when he felt I wasn't. If I got too boisterous or grimaced about something he did, he would say, "Are you a safe part of my environment?" Yes, he would literally make a comment like that. Safety was a big issue for both of us.

   Also, we would affirm each other, sprinkling small acts throughout the day. I'd look up from what I was doing, see him, and smile in delight that he was there. He'd look at me with love and delight shining in his eyes.  We would smile at each other.  He told me daily how beautiful I was and how much he loved me every day.  I would have bursts of enthusiasm rush to hug him and declare, "I love you so much; it's silly." We affirmed each other and our love for each other.  Benefit: we were loved, and we loved. 

    I remember a period in therapy when being just "a human being instead of a human doing" was a big thing.  Maybe this is what they meant. But of course, we did do.  We smiled at each other, whether there was eye contact or not. We breathed calmly in the presence of each other.  We were always aware of each other's presence and delighted in it. 

     I focused on Mike for a minute while lying in bed alone.  I could feel his loved flow into me. It's not quite as good as having him here, but I supposed it will have to do. 

      I am so fortunate to have friends and many casual acquaintances that stop each time they see me to exchange a few words.  With friends, I can have long conversations. But what I don't have is that quiet companionship that requires nothing but the appreciation of its existence.  I always appreciated that type of companionship.  

      I ran into Vince and Julie on my morning walk.  My Tesla Powerwall app said Kailua Kona was under a storm watch. I asked Vince if he knew about his. No, he thought it must have something to do with the air quality due to the sulfur dioxide in the air from the volcanic eruption. That wouldn't show up on an app concerned with solar panels.  

     Did I feel the earthquake yesterday?  No. It was at10 am, and I was napping at that time, trying to catch up on lost sleep from the night before in preparation for my luncheon date at Zola's.  I mentioned an earthquake I had experienced here. I was sitting in the living room and watched the whole house shake.

   Julie talked about the earthquake of '06.  Their son had just set out for work.  He thought something was wrong with the wheels of his car. Then he looked out his rearview mirror and saw the roadway undulate.  Vince and Julie were on the second floor of their home. Vince grabbed the TV set to keep it from smashing to the floor.  When they went down to the kitchen, they found the floor covered with broken pottery and glass.  All the cabinets facing in one direction had been flung open, and the dishes rocked out onto the floor. 

     The sulfur dioxide output of the volcano has already reduced. Lutz, an evening walking companion, said it was down to 15,000 tons from 85,000 tons.  He was in the air, flying home from San Diego after the first eruption.  He glanced out the window and saw brown clouds.  Yes, brown.  He thought this was from the eruptions on our island.  The 85,000 tons were floating at 30,000 feet. 

    I did a dry run of my Phase II video.  This isn't the first one, but I am sounding a bit more confident. I don't know if I like all the slides.  I have a bunch at the end to remind people of something I said earlier in the presentation. Doing some of this work feels good.

    I wrote Julia from Step Up Tutoring to ask her about the people in my cohort of new tutors that are supposed to be working with me. I sent an introductory letter to them, asking them to tell me their availability. They're supposed to meet with me as a group. No one responded.  I  asked her if these were folks who requested support or were they just volunteered.  The answer: they were just volunteered. I can imagine they don't want to do more than they signed up for. This organization is demanding time from these folks that's appropriate for a paying job. They have to participate in a "town meeting" once a semester, and now the new ones have to join a support group. Really???

    I drove to the bank in town to cash two checks. It took me forty-five minutes. The teller was new and had to check, double-check, and then get someone else's approval. Thankfully, I had a book with me.  It was still annoying. I am pleased to report I made only one slightly nasty comment.  However, I made it in a soft tone of voice. Hopefully, that mitigated any negative impact.

    I stopped off at Costco to check on the futon Judy told me about.  Also, I wanted to check the price of the twin leather electric recliners that Mike bought. He thought he died and went to heaven with that chair. I thought I died and went to hell. I couldn't make myself comfortable. You couldn't sit in it without slouching. I tried putting pillows behind me, but they had no traction with the leather.  It would have worked if I could have sat Indian style, but that was out because of my hip. It was a bad deal all around.  I wanted to replace the chairs with a futon to put up a friend of August's if he chooses to bring one when they visit over Christmas. 

   I was disappointed on both counts. Costco wasn't carrying the model of the recliner I wanted to look at to get the price.  I want to sell it on Craig's List.  

   I called Judy as I left Costco, wondering what she was thinking of when she told me Costco carried futons. All I saw was sectional sofas with pillows instead of full-sized futons. Was that what she was thinking of? She called back as I was getting out of the car at home. No, Costco really sold futons and good ones. Mei bought one. It's just they didn't carry it all the time. She would keep her eye out for me. J. 

   I spoke to Jean, my hanai sister, today. She is still in pain and is still packing up her house for their move on the 16th. Yes, now it's the 16th, and they are still struggling to get everything done. 

   I got a call from the jeweler yesterday saying that four of the prongs holding in the small diamond on my grandmother's childhood ring are gone, and the other four as so thin, they're on the verge of breaking off.  My grandmother was born in 1881; I was told she got this ring when she was twelve. That's how old I was when my uncle gave it to me. I'm not having this ring enlarged.  I want to pass it on to the next generation. My niece has a 2-year old son. I don't know if they're planning on having more children. I have no way of knowing if their second child will be a girl or if their son would like to wear this ring. The repair on the four remaining prongs will be $120.  I can handle that.  I told him to go ahead with the repair.

    I wrote California E's father that I could meet today. I don't think he got the message. I sent a long message through Remind. It offered to translate into Spanish and then sent me a long message in Spanish which I couldn't read. I suspect it was saying the translation option wasn't available. Nuts!  Julia plans to hook me up with someone on their staff who speaks Spanish and help us negotiate.  I never heard back from E's father; I didn't drive myself crazy trying to get home by noon, the appointed time.

   I decided to consult a podiatrist to get his take on my hammertoe. I'm pretty sure that I know how the best way to deal with it. I ice my foot and massage it. When I walk, I make a point of moving my toes as much as possible, stretching them apart as I put my heel down and then pushing through all the way till I'm pushing off from the tips.  I think the good doctor will recommend proper shoes instead of Crocs and molded supports.  As far as I can make out, both those suggestions would be counterproductive.  I read on the Internet that walking barefoot can be good for the problem. I assume that's the case because your range of movement is greater when barefoot than shod.  Katie Bowman calls shoes foot coffins: they limit movement.  The Crocs allow the toes to move through their full range of motion.    

    Wednesday is my day with K's crew. She had just walked into the house at 2 pm. She was having car problems and then problems with the loaner while her air conditioning got fixed.

    I had Twin E first. Both girls are in second grade and not yet reading on a low Kindergarten level. I worked with them over the summer on just recognizing words in the -at family: bat, cat, fat, hat, mat, Nat, pat, rat, sat, and tat. That took most of the summer after making sure they had the names of the alphabet under their belts.  E was progressing better than A. Now, A is moving ahead at a good pace.  She was able to recognize more words than E did and her blending skills are much better. A had more trouble recognizing words she saw a minute ago, and blending is still out of reach.

   When I was finished with the girls, I worked with their older brother K. He is in 3rd grade.  We worked on basic handwriting skills and writing his first and last name correctly. He didn't know his last name at the beginning of the summer. He still didn't have primary paper available.  I mailed it to his teacher and to his mother.  His teacher claimed she didn't have the time to download the paper; his mother couldn't get her printer to hook up to her computer. Today it came out that her middle school child S had cracked the computer screen.  Oh, boy. Mom K grabbed a notebook and drew the primary lines and the words he had to copy.  She didn't write his name.  It was time for him to write these words from memory, "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog," and form the letters correctly.  He did a pretty good job, even it did mean dragging some of it out of him.

    I got a text from adolescent D's teacher. He goes to a small private school; he's in a class of eight children. The teacher is trained in Orton Gillingham and is a qualified social worker. She asked me to appraise his work level. She has been asking very little of him but feels she has to up her expectations for the next semester.  D is repeating the eighth grade. He will have to go someplace else next year. How is he going to cope with any high school?  

    His teacher recognized the significance of his psychological problems. She said when she started with him, he was writing horrible things on his papers. "I'm stupid." "I'm no good." Scary stuff.  I told her I also saw his ego as of prime importance.  I am working with him on Zoom. I have only seen his image once.  He hides.  Pulling him out from behind the screen had to be handled carefully.  He is also very hard on himself.  He insists that he hasn't made any progress when his mother can see it.  His idea of progress is functioning as his most accomplished peer. Getting better does not mean making a small degree of progress.  

    I asked his teacher if the students in his class were aware of his reading problems. She said absolutely.  The guys in the class cluster around him and help him. When I told D that his peers knew he couldn't read, he said, "God, I hope not." He lives in an alternate reality. 

    We had a tutoring session today.  D took forever to read a word. When he did, he said he knew the word, but his mind went off. It sounds like an ADD problem. Some inner thought captures his attention. He said he knew what the thought was.  This is good news. I had been aware of his mind flipping; I was concerned it might be a form of epilepsy. 

   I haven't seen or heard from Isaac in a while. He's the young man volunteering in a small religious school for the year.  I gave him some suggestions on how to teach kindergarteners the alphabet using biblical passages.  I was concerned if he was okay.  I met him initially while walking in the evening. I hadn't even seen him on the street. He texted to say he was fine and had some success using my suggestions. I would love the feedback. Also, I generated a new idea for him. Something the kids can do together either in pairs or as a group.

 

Tuesday, October 5, 2021

 Tuesday, October 5, 2021

 

    I woke up fully rested and checked the clock. 11:30!  Yikes! This didn’t bode well.  I had a rough night’s sleep. This time I didn’t obsess over interpersonal relations but about the political situation.  I haven’t been optimistic about the direction our country, the world, has been heading in. Each day gives me a reason to be less optimistic.  I made plans to ask Scott to replace the empty propane canisters now.  I think I’ll also check on the cost of adding another Tesla battery.

    During the night, my leg bothered me.  I tried the acupuncture pen on my left calf. That didn’t do much. I used the tennis ball on my piriformis and then moved up the length of the left side of my body. Worked like a charm!

    Joe joined us for yoga today.  He hasn’t been coming on Tuesdays.  Yvette set up. She thought Scott was coming early to do it, but that’s not how it worked out.  She put the yoga toes on both my feet. I was concerned about the left one as well as the right.  I was developing a sizeable blister on my second toe as it rubbed against my big toe.  Unfortunately, I can’t reach down there to slip in a foam toe separator. That would protect the toe nicely.

    I needed a nap after yoga.  I had to get myself in shape for my luncheon with the ladies. I lay down but only had an insomniac’s rest. I did get some sleep, but it wasn’t very satisfying. I got up, showered, and got ready to go. I had plans to do a few chores in town.  I wanted to check the secondhand furniture store for a futon couch.  

       I want to replace the twin electric leather recliners from Costco Mike bought. I was never comfortable in them. They are great for slouching, Mike’s favorite pose.  I tried to support myself with pillows, but the leather was slippery, and the pillows just made it worse.  With a futon in there, I can put up another guest.   Damon and I talked about August bringing a friend with him when they come out for Christmas.  He, or she, could stay in the library this way. 

   The closest stop on the way to town was the jewelers.  He had called to say the ring cutter was working. Good ole Black & Decker.  It’s quite a clever device. A metal piece slipped under the ring and rested against my finger. The jeweler pressed a button, and a tiny battery-powered saw cut through the metal, never touching my flesh. 

    I told him the story of the ring.  I didn’t get a ring until two years after we were married. We had lived together for nine years because I didn’t want to get married; I was afraid it would ruin the relationship.  In the summer of 1984, we were vacationing in Cape May with Damon and Yvette.  We browsed the local shops without looking for anything.  I saw this ring and announced that I wanted it as my wedding band. It cost all of $200.  Mike said, “You know you will never wear it. You don’t like jewelry.” I insisted. I just had it cut off.

      Dorothy described the ring as a cocktail ring, not a wedding band.  Whatever, it’s my wedding band. The crown was twisted gold and with some indentations to embed something. The something embedded in his ring is something shiny and black.  I thought it was opal. A jeweler told me that it was probably plastic. The jeweler I just talked to said it was perhaps enamel.   Either way, two of the pieces fell out over the years, the central piece and one of the side ones.  I saw the ring as a symbol of our marriage. It mainly was pure gold, but it had these black synthetic pieces in it too.  Sounds like life to me. If you have a good one, the gold outweighs the darkness and artificiality. Artificiality is the part of any situation where you just have to fake it until you make it.  I assume that’s part of any marriage.

      I kept my eye on the ring, waiting for the last black chip to fall out and our marriage to be perfect.   I don’t know if it is possible to achieve that goal, no matter how long or how good the marriage is.       

    I planned to go to the bank and to the secondhand store.  I drove over to the bank; the parking lot was jammed.  That meant a long line. I figured I wouldn’t have time.  I aimed my car toward the secondhand store, decided I wouldn’t have time to do that either before  I had to be at Zola’s house by noon. It was almost 11:30.  I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to get there. I decided better safe than sorry.  I was there way too early. I pulled over, tried to read, and opted for a rest, hoping I could shake that lousy feeling. 

   Zola’s house is fantastic. She has a large lanai with a great view.  She served hot chicken salad, a recipe of her mom’s, and a green salad. Then this apple dish, sort of pie without the crust, just some cornflakes on top.  It was delicious.  Despite feeling lousy, I had a great time. I feel comfortable being exuberant with these ladies. It’s been a long time since I was with a  group of people with whom  I felt I could just be myself.  I was the first to leave because I felt like I would fall asleep right there.  I had to make it home before I fell asleep at the wheel. Also, I had a 3 pm appointment with 3rd grade A.

    I made it home by two. I changed and went down for a nap. Again, I had an insomniac’s sleep, the one that never leaves you feeling rested.  I worried the whole time about missing my appointment, although I confess to being frustrated with this student and his family.  The boy is completely preoccupied with being ‘normal.’ I feel for him, but denying his problems isn’t an effective strategy. Also, I can’t get his mother to play the audiofile for him. He has a bad auditory processing problem. She resents my asking her to play it for him. She doesn’t like it; it drove her nuts. It doesn’t cost her any money, and she can play it for him a night so softly that she will never hear it.  Still, she won’t do it.  Given the seriousness of the problem, and the frustration I have to face, perhaps unnecessarily, I again am considering quitting. 

     We worked on his sight vocabulary today.  He still goes through the list in a halting way, figuring out each word. It’s an agony. When I said he was still having problems, he said no. He was okay.  I need his cooperation if I am going to be able to do the BrainManagementSkills with him.

    I established again that he used the front part of his brain to hold visual images. Great! However, he also used that part of the brain to hold auditory information. Not so great. We’ve been here before.  I can see there is a problem. I may even know what he has to do to change his brain pattern, but it doesn’t feel right.  I got him to pay attention to the auditory part of his brain while I  broke down words into phonemes, basically doing what the audiofile does.  He had difficulty holding on to that spot. His mind slipped back to the visual processing center.  There’s probably a release in there that would make short shrift of the problem, but I don’t feel I can do this with him.  He is so concerned about being normal, I’m afraid he will be frightened by the concept of having that sort of movement in his head interfering with his auditory processing. 

I believe he fell asleep as I spoke. That was fine with me. However, his mother told me that he has trouble staying awake during the day and falling asleep at night. While listening to phonemic transcription has positively affected others, I don’t know how it will affect this boy.

Monday, October 4, 2021

Monday, October 4, 2021

 

    I had another night of long, luxurious deep sleep.  I was even in doze mode until after 4 pm. 

Ahh!

     I got an email from Jen, the tech support person at Step Up Tutoring. I need her help with translation.  I am having a terrible time straightening out technical issues with California E’s parents. Their English is close to non-existent, and my Spanish is inadequate. 

      I know you can be an adult living in LA and never have to learn a word of English. We had a priest assigned here. He had lived in LA for 9 years. Hello was a challenge.

       I got a ghost text from Dorothy.  It said, “Will you be making a jack ‘o lantern?” I thought it was an odd question to ask me.  What was even odder was that it disappeared. I couldn’t find it on her thread.  I texted her, asking her if she sent me such a text. She said she had made that comment in response to a picture of her grandson on that picture app. She had not sent me a text. It seems like everything is getting screwed up. 

     I finally dropped off the job application to the Middle school.  Ginger told me she would be out today but said someone would Xerox all my documentation. Looking back on the other day, I don’t think she looked on the verge of tears.  I think everyone who works in that office is stressed to the max. That would explain that strange telephone call from the principal at 6:30 one morning. Geez, she sounded like a wired New Yorker. The remaining clerk, Sidney, has been consistently helpful, downright kind to me, and giving me information that made me understand what everyone is going through. Sidney Xeroxed all my documents: passport, signed social security card, birth certificate, driver’s license, Covid passport, and college transcript. 

      Yesterday, I was inspired to take my rings off. Good luck!  My knuckles have dramatically increased in size. No way could I get either of the two rings I was currently wearing off.  I called a jeweler before I left the house to drop off my application to the middle school. Yes, they cut off rings that could no longer be slid off the finger. They suggested I try Windex first. Apparently, it is the most effective lubricant. 

     I didn’t have Windex, but the jeweler did.  As I suspected, my knuckles were too large for anything to help.  He could get the little ring off my pinky with wire clippers, but my wedding band was too thick for that. His Black & Decker gadget for sawing through the ring wasn’t working. He said he would call me when he had it up and running. 

    I got a phone call from my friend B. He was helping his daughter move into a dorm at the start of a college year.  They only recently reconnected. What a joy!!

    In my session with adolescent D, we continued transcribing the words into their syllables and phonemes.  He still makes mistakes that I wish he wouldn’t, but he sticks with it, he takes more risks and gets more things right.  He read weather as water. The two words share many of the same letters and in the same order. I felt down about it. As I think of it, I’m giving him mixed messages. I tell him to use his automatic processing, but I criticize him when it doesn’t produce the correct response. I have to revise my response. All the letters of water were in weather and in the right order, nor did he add any letters. That’s an improvement. Then he came upon the word expected. He just gave up.  I did something different; I wrote just the vowel letters. Then I added on the consonants behind the vowels and then in front.  Doing that isolates the vowel letters more and more concretely demonstrates the process of decoding these multi-syllable words. 

   I jumped from video to video on Netflix.  When one prompts a surge of anxiety, I switch to another.  The documentaries are the easiest on my nerves, even the one singing the praises of Richard Carpenter. Yuck!

Sunday, October 3, 2021

  

Sunday, October 3, 2021

 

    My obsessive thinking up again in the middle of the night. I should have suspected something because I wasn’t tired at bedtime. Because I maintain regular hours, my body fades right on schedule as a rule.  Not tonight. I was wide awake and full of energy.   I think fear strikes my body before the thinking starts. There is some incident that triggers the fear, and I’m off and running. Controlling my thoughts does not alleviate the grip fear has on me. I can feel it in every cell of my body. It’s not a great feeling.  I believe I lived this way for my whole childhood and much of my early adulthood.  

      Vipassana, a method of meditation, helped me get some relief- and the supportive, comforting presence of Mike. I tried to calm my mind. That lasted for all of two seconds at a time.  I got up and took two CDB pills.  I think that’s what helped last time.  They didn’t seem to be helping now. Then I felt the shift.  It had taken enough of an edge off the fear for meditation to have an effect.  I calmed my body and fell asleep. What a drag!

    I took on Kukuna this morning. I ran into David. I hadn’t seen him in a while. He said he hadn’t been walking; he was busy harvesting coffee.  We talked about his neighbors’ roosters. He said the guy had about ten. One of our neighbors brought a suit against him, forcing him to get rid of them. What he did was house them on someone else’s property. Then that person decided to sell, and our neighbor brought his brood back home.  He has their cages tucked up against the side of a hill. I’m above him; that’s why I  don’t hear them.  People to either side of him are not so lucky- including the guy who originally sued him. I have no idea what the latest development is.

        I ran into a second person, one I didn’t remember ever seeing before. Although I don’t know how I could have forgotten her. She has a huge head of long white hair. She was walking a dog. Once I established hers was male, I proposed letting them have contact.  The problem was she had just gotten her dog and didn’t really know how he might behave.  He was a fourteen-year-old dog whose owners moved to the mainland and couldn’t take him along. Can you imagine having a dog for fourteen years and just abandoning him?  I hope it was a hard choice.  The white-haired woman, Laurie, volunteered to take Hughie.  She couldn’t see putting him down for convenience. He wouldn’t have lasted in a shelter.  

  At 9 am I had an appointment with the M&W sisters.  M, who is repeating first grade, still had problems allowing automatic processing. I asked her if she was afraid of making a mistake. From her reaction and something mom said, it was clear this was a problem for her in many areas. This fear had to be addressed. It is a learning blocker. I started with the release phrases: I let go of anything bad about my hatred of my fear and keep anything good or anything I still need. And then, the opposite: I let go of anything negative about my love of my fear and keep anything good or anything I still need.  She felt some relaxation, the telltale sign it’s having an effect. She experienced some relaxation when he released the hatred and a lot of relaxation when she released the love.  I assured her I always do both, even with myself. One of the two releases is always a big surprise. We think we only feel one way, but we don’t. 

      I felt more had to be done to achieve the necessary calm for her to proceed with her learning. I have several protocols I can use.  I chose EFT, the tapping cure. Getting the right setup is vital when doing this. This is what came out of my mouth: “Even though I’m afraid of making a mistake, I’m still a good person.” She said yes to this phrase, and I went with it using Pat Carrington’s tapping steps. There are several different ones. As with everything, there’s the original and millions of variations as each person adapts it to their own lights. That’s the haps. M zoomed through the reading today. Where it had taken the full half-hour to get through three of the same stories we read in each session, today, she read four.  One was a totally new one. Besides that, we had taken time to do the fear releases.  Pretty darn good.

    With W., who is in fifth grade, I continued with Phase I of The Phonics Discovery System. She doesn’t like it.  Adolescent D is okay with it; 3r grade A is too. She combines the vowel with the following consonant when I ask her to separate them. I have to remind her every time. 

   I had a long conversation with Damon. We talked about August’s struggle to get a room change.  He did move some of his stuff into the room across the hall from his as Cylin, and I recommended, assuming squatter’s right.  Unfortunately, the response was to lock the door- with August’s stuff in there.  This is an opportunity for him to learn how to pursue something he wants without assuming entitlement.  This is tough in this situation. This is a private college- expensive. The college has not updated this dorm.  It does not have enough electricity to support private air conditioners and has not converted the building to central air as it has with other dorms.  August is in the worst room in the worst dorm.  How to pursue what he wants without becoming obnoxious- or learning when obnoxious is a good move?

    I was walking while I was talking to Damon.  Whenever I get a phone call, I leap to my feet to get more steps in. Judy and Paulette passed on their way to church. The next thing I knew, they were passing me the other way, heading back home. They spotted Paulette’s cat, Meew, at the end of the block. This is quite a distance from home. He is a male, but he is fixed. Paulette picked him up, and they drove him back home.

    I did some more work on the Phase II video of The Phonics Discovery System. All I did was work on some of the slides. I didn’t practice a Zoom presentation. I must do this every day until I get a version I’m happy to publish on YouTube. 

    In my before-dinner walk, I ran into one of my walking acquaintances that I hadn’t seen for a while.  He said head visited the mainland, sightseeing deserts. He also went to  La Paz, Mexico.  He says he is planning to move there.  He likes desert living. He was impressed by how much cheaper it is to live there than here in Hawaii. Hawaii living is expensive. Everything needs to be shipped in by boat or air. However, this man is somewhat of a jerk. He had endless complaints about the stupidity and crassness of others.  He thinks the people here are nasty.  It is true the native Hawaiians often resent the presence of us haoles. I can’t blame them.  They are the ‘minority now, with all the implications.  This man said the people in La Paz were nice.  Hmmm!  He was there as a tourist.  He was there to spend his money and then leave.  If he becomes a resident have may find that the natives are not going to be so thrilled with him.  When he talked about how unfriendly people are here, this man made a point of saying, “of course, not you.”  Given my discomfort with his hyperness and negativity, he may find that I am not that friendly either.

Saturday, October 2, 2021

 Saturday, October 2, 2021

 

     I slept in till dawn.  I ran into Vince and Julie as I walked. Vince asked if I was okay because they hadn’t seen me for several days.  I had been walking a different route, going up Kukuna. I didn’t do it yesterday or today because Elsa wanted to go to the left coming out of the driveway.  When I take my short walks during the day, I usually turn to the left. I think she hoped she could force me to take a quick walk instead of my long one. She is always behind me as we walk away from the house and in front of me, pulling on the leash as we head back.  Besides, seeing Vince and Julie, our old turkey flock had returned.  They disappeared for a while. Vince, who feeds them each morning, asked if I knew what had happened to them.  I had no idea. His explanation today: they had checked out ‘greener pastures’ and decided this was their best bet.

     At 9 am I had an appointment with the M & W sisters. M continued missing words that we had been reading every day.  I had her read the Carpenter selections starting with the first one every time. She was missing words that she had read repeatedly. I finally asked her if she had trouble remembering words. Yep. Ah!

     I showed her how to implement automatic recall. For one reason or another, she was reluctant to allow this to happen.  I teach it by drawing a crude picture of the head and brain and telling students to let information to ‘sink’ into long-term memory and then retrieve it.  It is a big adjustment if you are not used to it. It’s up there with “let go and let God.” It can be scary giving up conscious control.   Often when the students allow it to happen, they can feel the neurological surge.  Of course, those of us used to it no longer feel it.  Students stop being aware of it shortly after they start using it regularly. We are generally unaware of systems that work; we are only aware when things don’t work, which is why many students can give me an amazing amount of information about what goes on in their brains. M didn’t ‘feel’ the information slide down through the hippocampal formation into long-term memory, but she reported she felt weird.  Weird in this context is good; it means there has been a change. Something unfamiliar is going on. We had some time left in our session, but it didn’t feel right to continue. I didn’t want her to take control of her mind.  Her mother was sitting there. I told her to have M  play with the clay or, better yet, nap, so the change could consolidate. A shift like this is a little like moving something damming the neurological flow. The brain knows what to do on its own once the interference is removed.

    While W’s reading sounded much more fluent, she was making small errors. I decided to start her on Phase I of The Phonics Discovery System.  I told the mother about the impact on my reading of making my 5 Stories audio file.  It increased my reading speed, changed my speech, made it easier for me to listen to others, and changed how I listened to music. Since I was 58 at the time, had a 760 out of 800 on the verbal section of the SAT, and straight A’s in grad school, I felt it was safe to claim that I was a reasonably good reader before I made the tape. Seeing the impact on me, I expanded my expectations for this little audio file. I have used it successfully to help several students with speech and reading problems.  It impacts the auditory processing system. 

       I had adolescent D a bit later in the morning. He has been listening to the audio file nonstop. It took forever to get him started. I don’t know if we got his auditory working memory functioning with the BrainManagementSkills, allowing him to respond to the audiofile or if the audiofile was responsible for opening the center. Either way, he’s become a manic listener to the file now.  We’ll see if it makes a huge difference or not.

      In our last session, he was surprised when he got a word correctly.  I told him that’s what automatic processing feels like when it works.  Before this, his automatic processing often gave him the wrong word, ‘by accident,’ according to D. Of course, by accident. But we want the accidents to produce correct responses more often than incorrect ones. That ‘accident’ is often referred to as “the magic that is handed out  on the day some kid who has a reading problem was absent.”  We continued working on Phase I in The Phonics discovery System.  He is open to this process now.  Today he applied what he learned about the pronunciation of -ure from nature to endure.  They are not pronounced the same. Why am I excited? Because D applied a pattern.  By the way, the mispronunciation of endure using this association gets him close enough to figure out the word using context clues.

    I’ve been feeling strangely fuzzy-headed, a little like I’m getting over a smoking or drinking binge.  It just occurred to me, it may be my reaction to the toxic volcanic fumes. 

   Judy called. She was feeding Lukey.  He is her extremely disabled three-year-old grandson.  He has a bad case of the FoxG1 genetic disorder. He will never be able to do as much as a two-month-old child. He is very disabled. He is one lucky boy. His parents and grandparents live on a single compound and adore him as he is.  Judy’s older sister, Ginny, had two disabled children. One died in her twenties. Ginny is now an 89, taking care of her 58-year-old son, who needs EVERYTHING done for him. She has done this all his life and continues to do so with love and joy. Some amazing family!!  Judy tells me Ginny’s other two kids have pushed her to find a placement for Jimmy; Ginny and her husband will not last forever.  I expressed concern for how Ginny would feel without Jinny to fill her days. She said, no worries, Ginny has a full life. Jimmy goes to school every day, and Ginny takes off, plays with girlfriends, and participates in church activities. Wow!

     Poor Damon has had to listen to me go on and on about my grief about a bad social situation. I texted him to tell him I had my emotions under control for the movement. He should be sure to call me while things are still good. 

    I watched a documentary about Carpenters. What a sleaze that brother is.  The film was in praise of his contributions to their success.  I don’t doubt that his musicality did make a substantial contribution.  However, it wouldn’t have been enough to give him his career without Karen as the front man.  Her voice was incredible. After she died, he fell into oblivion.  Here’s the problem: I think he used his sister without regard for her preferences.  He made the success of their band his absolute priority. Karen didn’t want to sing; she wanted to play the drums. He could have compromised and allowed her to sing while playing the drums. He says that peeling her off the drums and getting her to stand out front took enormous effort. He says that with zero awareness of how he took advantage of her and made her life a misery.  He makes me want to puke.

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Musings:

    A friend of mine sent me a link to a meditation to help control intrusive, upsetting thoughts. Here’s the problem, quieting the thoughts does not quiet the body response if the problem is rooted in PTSD. 

    I recently read that the fight/flight/freeze response is turned off during sleep for normal people, giving the body a chance to recover. For those with PTSD, this response never turns off. The body is always on alert.  Mike and I both had this problem. Mike would have nightmares and call out in his sleep.  There is no complete peace if the trauma isn’t healed.

    I can feel my body going into action before my mind knows what is going on. Something triggers the response, and my nervous system is off and running.  My obsessive thoughts just try to keep up with what is going on in my body, trying to make sense of them. Otherwise, I just have this fear coursing through my body with no explanation. Searching for an explanation means searching for a way to solve the problem, even though it often only makes matters worse. 

   Dealing with the trigger can help quiet the feelings somewhat, but not completely. Two things helped me find calm over these many years: Mike’s desire to protect me and the Vipassana meditation.   Vipassana focuses on physical sensation as well as quieting the mind.  In fact, it directs you to use your mind only to deal with the sensations in your body.   When I use that, I can calm down somewhat.  The trauma of your childhood can be overwhelming.