Thursday, September 3, 2026

Thursday, October 17, 2024

Thursday, October 17, 2024

 

   I turned off the light around 9:30 pm and slept straight through to 4 am. How's that for a good night's sleep.?I have been dealing with the dark side of my personality, the part that obsesses about things that go wrong. I wake up feeling just fine. Then, I feel a surge of 'distress' rising in my body just to the left on the midline in the area of my stomach.  Thoughts don't trigger the surge; thoughts don't come up with the surge. It takes a moment for an appropriate thought that matches that feeling of distress to come up.  the sensation of distress precedes the distressing thoughts. This means the unconscious mind precedes the conscious one.  Is this what causes psychological states attributed to 'chemical imbalances?"

    It isn't wrong to say that negative mental states are caused by chemical imbalances.  All neurological activity is driven by both electrical and chemical elements.   All brain activity is fueled by electrical and chemical activity. 

    Our nervous system strives for homeostasis.  If we're still alive, the system is working. Why change it? Therefore, people have a default state of mind.  Is it inherited? Even if it is, can it be altered? Vipassana says yes; it can be. 

     In the Vipassana method of meditation, you're instructed to focus on body sensation. You observe the sensation on a small patch of skin. You don't think of the sensation as either pleasure or pain.  You describe the feeling as hot or cold, prickly, itchy, numb, throbbing, etc. You observe the area until the sensation changes. Then, you move on to the next patch.  

   Over time, with careful observation, you catch those mood changes, particularly when you're triggered. You get better at catching yourself before you do something you'll regret. You learn you can survive the ego wound.

    I set a challenge for myself when I was in my early thirties.  I  observed how quick I was to speak, interrupting people constantly.  I was a nervous wreck. I set the challenge of not talking but only responding in writing. I did that every Sunday for several weeks. Having to write down my response slowed me down. I learned I could survive without speaking immediately – or even sooner. I don't mean to suggest that fixed me.  I had a long way to go before my behavior approximated normal.  I have no idea how people put up with me.  

   As Joseph left the house this morning, our conversation from the previous night lingered in my mind. He had asked me to define 'thinking '. After some contemplation, I concluded that 'Thinking' is a broad category encompassing all mental processes in the mind. This simple question led to a fascinating discussion about the nature of our thoughts and how they shape our understanding of the world.

        I finally saw Dean on my morning walk.  I hadn't seen either him or Nina in days. She still tested positive for Covid when I last saw her. I texted her this morning to see if they were okay. Everything was fine. It was just a coincidence we hadn't run into each other. 

  Dean talked about procreation between breeds this morning. One of his chickens sat on the eggs of another chicken of a different breed.  Yes, his breeds of different chicks could procreate. It had something to do with mitochondria, which is really a bacteria. There are twelve strains. As a piece of miscellaneous knowledge, all humans have DNA from Charlemagne. I believe one in every three people has DNA from Genghis Khan.  These were busy boys.

    When I worked in a school in Trenton, I encountered one young man who was one of fifty kids sired by the same frisky adolescent male. Wow! I wondered how that would play out in subsequent generations.

    I called the building permit department today to see how my permit for the new solar system is progressing. The plans were submitted on September 17. It has been exactly one month, and still nothing.  Provision Solar told me that the permit has been approved; we are just waiting for the out-processing. That means the planning department submits a bill for the permit to Provision Solar.  Spencer, the project manager at Provision Solar, told me this process takes 72 hours on Maui. The Big Island Building and Permitting Department will take forever. It's been over a month and counting.  When I spoke to someone at the permit department, they told me only three people were processing the permits. There are different types of permits. They process one kind on Monday, another on Tuesday, etc. No wonder it takes forever.  They don't have enough staff. What does Maui have that we don't?  Hmm! Maybe more wealthy people and a large tax base. 

     Eli, the new gardener I hired, arrived at 7:40 when he promised to be here at 7:30, which was pretty impressive. I lay down for my early morning nap at 7 and set my alarm for 7:45. Eli is Mexican. He would run on Hispanic time. I was surprised he was that punctual. He had his 18-year-old son Cesar with him. I asked the boy to accompany us as we talked. Eli's English is not that good.  

     Mike and I hired Eli and his company when we first moved here.  I switched to another company because I thought they were responsible for the landscaping job at the Coffee Shack. If they were, it was all an accident.  We kept them on until I finally fired them.  I wasn't that happy with the work or their connection with me.  I didn't have any professional gardeners for a year. I hoped to do it all myself. It wound up being too much for me. the terrain is irregular.  I fell working in one area.  The first clean-up will cost me a pretty penny, but I have a tenant now and am collecting rent. It should cover it once I get over the initial expense of reining the growth back.  Ah, yes. I also have to hire a tree company to cut trim the trees so I don't lose my view. That's what we all have to do to maintain our views.  Hopefully, our neighbors won't let their trees grow to block our views.

   I left for Ulu Wini shortly before two, after I paid Eli for his day's work, even though they hadn't finished yet.  Eli did more than he originally said this morning.  He cut back the completely-out-of-hand plumbago, trimmed the bougainvillea shrubs, trimmed all the shrubs at the top of the driveway,  trimmed the high mock orange shrubs, cut out some agave growth (Lord, they get big), and took a chain saw to what was left of the Ficus tree and treated it with Round-Up, pouring a small amount into the new cut. That should get rid of the stumps permanently.  They also cleaned up the driveway, littered with fallen green waste. 

   I had a session with Shelly today.  I was in high spirits, feeling good with my new insights and the hope that I had finally resolved, perhaps dissolved, that spot of agony I'd been dealing with since a young child.  It had been a couple of days.  We'll see. That would be great news, making the rest of my life bearable.

     Shelly packed a surprise for me today.  The one unresolved issue is my work.  First, I want more clients. Second, which I didn't mention in this session, I want the fortitude to broadcast the approaches I developed to teach reading. I asked Shelly directly if she would recommend me. She said she had no contact. I remembered her husband was a child psychologist.  I assumed he had retired and had no access. He was still working, but he could only recommend evidence-based methods. Whoa! That was a shocker. Most of what I do is evidence-based.  

      I have a master's in reading, and I'm Orton Gillingham certified.  My emphasis on phonemic awareness versus phonics is evidence-based. Most phonics programs don't use it because most educators don't even understand what a phoneme is.  They have merely relabeled their phonics instruction programs as phonemic instruction. They have poured old wine into new skins. 

    Certain things I do are not evidence-based and are not grounded in previously used methods. The BrainManagementKills work. No one is going to check which part of the brain a student uses and direct them to use a different part than they are currently using. However, this exercise is benign. No one can be alarmed about it. 

  When I get into the spinning, that's a different matter.  Students can be alarmed to think of what is happening in their heads. Does it mean there's something wrong with them? Are they crazy?  Other than those two activities, everything is evidence-based.  The irony is teachers continue to use methods of teaching that are not evidence-based. 

    When I called to volunteer, I was told I had to do precisely what the teacher wanted me to do and nothing else.  The example was a sight word drill. The teacher would give me a deck of flashcards, and I would have to go through them with the students and do nothing else.  I couldn't sound out the phonemes or work on their memorization techniques. There is evidence that this approach is NOT effective.  It harkens back to the Whole Word approach to reading, which assumes we learn through repetition. We know that alone doesn't work.  Does repetition have a role in learning' sight words?'  Yes. Dahaene, a French neurologist who researches the brain when reading, says we process letters and individual sounds even when reading sight words. The Shaywitz's, also neurologists, testified to this argument years ago. Evidence is ignored when it suits the establishment.  

    The evidence-based programs are all put out by publishing houses that charge a fortune for their new programs.  The research supporting their programs is all sponsored by the publishing house. The method I developed requires no new materials. You can use anything at hand.

     While I am Orton-Gillingham certified, I don't use it in its pure form.  It is a highly structured and sequenced program. It is scripted. It requires three years of lessons, one for every school day for 180 lessons per year.  There is plenty of evidence as to its effectiveness. I don't think these principles are incorporated into reading programs. It's too specific. It's impossible to use in a classroom where you can't assume students will be there daily.  To boot, the Orton Gillingham program doesn't just teach reading; it teaches spelling.  The teaching aspect is synthetic phonics; the spelling is analytic phonics. Students get to approach the letter sound correspondence from both perspectives. 

   There is debate about the efficacy of the synthetic versus the analytic approach to teaching phonics.  In the synthetic approach, the student is 'taught' what sound a letter represents; they do not discover it for themselves.   They use this acquired knowledge to identify each sound in a word and blend it to get a word.  The analytic approach is used in spelling. You start with the word; you have to analyze the specific sounds in the word, identify which letter (s) represent those sounds, and write them down.  in the Orton-Gillingham program students are drilled in both activities.  This is evidence-based. I differ from the Orton Gillingham program only because I assume students can be taught to figure out the sounds of the words independently. When they have the word in front of them, they figure out which letters represent those sounds. My method teaches all students to do what good readers figure out on their own.  It is a small leap that makes a huge difference. 

   I recently developed a new twist on an old method. The multisensory approach was codified by Grace Fernald in the 1930s. There is tons of evidence for its effectiveness. Students with difficulty perceiving letters write them on texture surfaces, like shaving cream, cloth, clay, etc. Teachers are instructed to write letters on students' backs. I will write them on the students' foreheads. The difference is I have to write them backward. I have recently made a shift, instructing students to imagine writing them directly into the surface of their brains behind their foreheads. It has proved to be a satisfyingly successful strategy.

    The big difference between me and most educators, including those who create and provide evidence for their expensive programs, is that I have a strong background in linguistics, cognition, and neuroscience. When I speak about my methods, they are grounded in this background knowledge. Most teachers don't have a clue as to what a phoneme is. They will have no way of coping with the allophones, slightly different pronunciations for a letter.  For example, in American English, the medial T, a T that is sounded between two vowel sounds, is pronounced as a D. They don't know what connected speech is.  It goes on and on. All most teachers do is learn a program and teach that.  That works for many kids. But these programs allow for no variation.

    What I do works because I watch the child and diagnose the problem.  I am very good at what I do. That makes me weird. My perspective makes me weird; my educational background and analytical approach make me weird.  A teacher who loved me as a person and thought I was excellent as a teacher called me a quack. This was close to twenty years ago.  I told her that she would be doing what I was in ten years.  That hasn't quite happened. No one is doing what I'm doing, but they are using more of my vocabulary. Again, pouring old wine into new skins. The BRAIN, writ large, is big on everyone's mind now. But it's just the old methods repackaged. 

    The one change is that the Whole Language Approach is now being condemned. That approach condemned phonics. Now, the pendulum is swinging the other way, and phonics is in. There are some materials that look like improvements to the Fountas and Pinnell books and methods. They will help many children. However, all the wisdom of the Whole Language Approach will be lost. It's the old problem of the elephant and the blind men. 

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

 Wednesday, October 16, 2024

    Last night, I picked Elsa up from under the dining room table and brought her to bed. She spent the night at my feet.  I have no idea what is going on with her.

    Every morning, I check Elsa's skin.  It has improved dramatically since I followed the Petco groomer's recommended procedure.  I returned to using the vet's prescribed shampoo but stopped bathing her every other day.  The groomer said not to bathe her more than once a week. The other significant change was what I did with the conditioner. She said to make sure I didn't rinse it all off.  It protected her skin.  Most of her belly is white again. I am thrilled. However, there are a few angry lesions still left in her groin area.    

    I was calm today. I spent the day working on updates and entries to my Teaching Blog, which I still have to set up. Hopefully, Sandor can help me when he returns to the island. I can even go to his house. He will be bringing his dad home with him. His dad has pretty bad dementia, and Sandor wants to give his mom a break.

    I also worked on trimming the shrubs that line the driveway.  I took a trash barrel of green waste over the Darby's today.  I do scattered work in the garden. Not nearly as much as I should. 

    I got a text from Eli saying he would be over tomorrow to spend the day beating back the ooze that had taken over the yard by 7:30 a.m.

    I had a session with fourth-grade LG today. I hadn't worked with him for over a week. Because his family learned his paternal grandfather was dying, the family flew to California for the week.  I didn't even work with him on Monday.

     LG's mom texted me to say she is seeing a dramatic improvement in his reading. He brought a book home and read it perfectly, not a single mistake. When I asked him what was making the difference, was he following my procedures, or was it just happening? He chose the latter.  

    His mother said he needs help with math.  Both he and his mom have trouble answering questions appropriately.  They go off on a tangent.  His mom said he had difficulty with the addition problem last night but couldn't do his multiplication homework tonight and to work on that. I drew an array of two groups, with three in each group.  I asked him to write the addition problem. He had no idea what I was talking about.  It wound up he didn't know what the word addition meant. He just knew the words add and adding. Really?  LG is easily confused. I think he's a bright child and a good learner. However, I think he makes things much more complicated than they have to be.  He needs to be forced to see the obvious. 

   I drew an array of two groups, with three in each group. I asked him to create an additional problem. He drew a blank. Later, he said he didn't know the word addition. I also wrote  ______+______= .  He didn't know what to do with that either.  Something is wrong with the way this child processes information. His mother is the same way. When I ask her a question, she doesn't answer it. she can be completely off-topic.  I don't know if the problem is neurological or psychological.  He had no idea that multiplication was a shortcut for addition or differed from addition.  It will take a fair amount of drill before he is sufficiently anchored in the mathematical process.

 


Tuesday, October 15, 2024

 Tuesday, October 15, 2024

     I slept well. When I woke, I felt that old anxiety. It started again yesterday after several miraculous days without it.  I remembered hearing that we all have a baseline mental state that we return to. If our life was difficult and we had something good happen, we would be joyful for a short time and then return to our baseline. That would be unfortunate in my case. My baseline is filled with sorrow and anxiety. Yuck! So was Mike’s. He tried a variety of things to deal with his feelings. When nothing worked, he had the doctor up his Lexapro meds to above the prescribed limit. I was concerned. He said he would rather be dead than not on that dosage of the meds.  It is those meds that may have triggered his pancreatitis.  It may not be, too. I have heard of several cases of people with kidney failure dying of pancreatitis. It’s not a good way to go. 

    My historic way of dealing with my anxiety is to move faster than it did.  With increased self-discipline, I can no longer mask the internal turmoil.  I sure don’t want to over-medicate.  I believe it is possible to overcome this state through what Vipassana teaches.  It teaches if you calmly observe your body, everything is curable.  I have experienced some of that myself.  

    During my first Vipassana sit, I experienced acute physical pain. If I sat with my legs straight, my coccyx hurt.  If I sat with my legs crossed, my left inner thigh hurt.   I spent a lot of time switching between the two positions. Then, I committed to holding one through the pain. Only I didn’t call it pain.  I just described it without referring to the pain/pleasure valance. It went away and never came back in full force.

    When first sitting Vipassana, you are so overwhelmed by the physical pain that you remain almost unaware of any psychological pain.  My physical pain is no longer an issue.  I have very little. I have made many changes, but I’m still stuck with the baseline I set before the age of two.  I don’t like it one bit, but I am determined to work through it.  Sometimes it’s all too much.

  I once hit an extreme state of anxiety while doing a formal 10-day Vipassana sit in Massachusetts. I asked for help from the meditation leader. She told me to lie down and only focus on my hands and feet until I calmed down.  I used that trick now while lying in bed. I could feel the shaking in those spots, but it wasn’t overwhelming.

   When I woke up, I saw Elsa wasn’t in bed with me. She always sleeps the night in my bed. During the day, she follows me around every minute. I go to the bathroom, and there she is.  I walked to the door, and there she was.  If I lie on the bed during the day, I can count on her joining me. Then, at night, she has her own ideas. however, she always is there in the morning. It was a huge surprise not to find her there this morning.

   I walked out to the lanai and she was on the sofa where she had been last night before I went to bed.  I picked her up and carried her to the bed. I curled up with her and put a bit of blanket over her.  She continued lying there even after I stopped rubbing her belly. Usually, once I stop that or, God forbid, put some blanket over her, she’s out of there in a flash.  I’m worried about her. If this behavior continues, I must have the vet check her. There may be an actual physical problem underlying this change of behavior.  I hate to think of what will happen to me if there is anything wrong with her.  My relationship with her is the only bonded one that is positive.  I will be devasted.

    Because I spent so much time with Elsa, I got up late. I do one exercise each morning that leaves me tired. I move my arms as if I was playing a racket sport. I do forward hits, backhand hits, and then badminton moves, pounding my arms up and then down. The important aspect of the exercise is that it is jerky, so the muscles are shocked. It is that shock that stimulates muscle growth and bone strength.  

    This movement reminds me of the bounces we used to do in dance classes. Because of the influence of yoga principles, sustained positions were taught over the bounces.  From what I’ve experienced, the sustained position is suitable for stretching; the bounces are good for strengthening.

     I had sixth grade RCH today. It was our fourth session.  I used the mental embedding technique with her in our second session.  It already made a difference in her reading. The letters were clearer and more stable. We also worked on her b/d confusion. No teacher had offered her any tricks for telling them apart.  I started with the old BED trick. You form circles with your thumb and index finger, bringing them together while holding the other four up.  It looks a little like a bed.  The left-hand forms the lowercase b, and the right the lowercase d.   I also showed her that the base of the lowercase d was a manuscript lowercase a. I showed her the base of the d. if you saw an a in the letter, it was a d.

   We did a practice run. I chose some random text and pointed to each case of a b or d. She had to say which one it was. She made a few mistakes but self-corrected. She is an excellent learner, but she needed someone to show her what to learn. 

      It was drizzling as Elsa and I headed out for an evening walk.  I would get damp, but my clothes would dry quickly. As we rounded the corner, the rain started coming down harder.  I headed home. I wouldn’t make my 10,000 steps today. 

    I had been listening to The Forgetting Tree on Audible. It was a free book I selected randomly.  It took a dark turn.  I tried to find a plot outline. I found a general one, saying that the protagonist fell under the influence of a dark personality. That was an understatement. A middle-aged woman with cancer hires a psychopathic caretaker who starves her and steals from her.  Most of the book details these interactions.  Since I couldn’t find out how the book ends online, I thought of listening to the whole thing. Then, I realized I could skip most of the book and listen to the end.  I jumped from chapter 14 to chapter 24.  There were 31 chapters altogether. The abuse was still being detailed.  I skipped to chapter 28. Not over yet. I went to chapter 30. Yay.  The protagonist was getting control of the situation, and the two sociopaths no longer had sway.

     Yvette came up for dinner. She popped a frozen food in the microwave, and I prepared half an everything bagel, cream cheese and lox sandwich with a salad.  I enjoyed her company.

 

 

 


Monday, October 14, 2024

 Monday, October 14, 2024 

     While I walked this morning, I heard a chorus of howling dogs.  Dan lives on the corner of Kukuna and Holoholo and has six dogs. When they let loose, it’s impressive.  This was the first time I heard them in full throat, triggering every other dog in the immediate neighborhood. My friend Elaine, who lives on Holoholo, hears it more often than I do.  I only heard it today because I was on the highest point in our immediate neighborhood. 

    It was just Clyde and me for Chi Qigong this morning. It was spectacularly low tide. The lowest I’ve ever seen it at that hour of the morning.  While we were going through the asanas, two men passed, heading for the water. Each held a black puppy. Oh, boy.  I asked to hold one. The poor thing started shaking.  They were a month old, and the men were taking them for their first swim.  I didn’t challenge them, asking them in God’s name how a one-month-old puppy could benefit from this.  The puppies were a pitbull-Chihuahua mix.  The female was the Chihuahua. Yikes.  The men said they tried to keep the two dogs separate but failed.

   I stopped off briefly at Target simply because I was right there. I picked up a jar of red raspberry jam I had forgotten the other day. Then, I checked the Haagen Das stock. The sale was over, but I spotted a pint of Vanilla Bean.  I was still hunting for that old Haagen Das vanilla ice cream. Judy told me the vanilla bean might be it. When I checked out, I discovered the computer hadn’t been informed that the sale had ended. I was sorry I hadn’t picked up a second pint.

    I got home around 9:30. When I checked my texts, I discovered the fourth-grade MH’s dad had set an appointment for 10 am.  We continued working on Stuart Little. I was alarmed to see MH making reading mistakes I hadn’t seen her make in over a year. She said she wasn’t feeling well.  This particular passage gave us plenty of opportunity to work on using context clues to develop vocabulary.  

    When students encounter unfamiliar words, I ask them to give a ‘logical’ substitute for that word. I believe this is the best way to develop vocabulary. You figure out a possible meaning in one context. In each context, the word has a slightly different meaning. The reader develops a sense of what that word might mean, a prototype.

   Immediately after that session was over, I hopped back into the car to meet my friend Jean in town to help her find Goodwill in the Old Industrial area. I tried to give her directions over the phone, but she had trouble picturing them. It was easiest to just drive down there and meet her.

       When I arrived, she was still in Target.  I suggested we go in her car instead of taking both of them. As I suspected, there were no parking spots in the section by Goodwill.  I offered to drive the car around while she shopped.  A space opened up shortly after she went into the store.  She picked one ‘pillow’ designed for an infant with a depression in the middle of two bolsters. She wanted the pillow to protect her thirty-five-pound cement angel she packed in a duffle bag. It would travel on the plane along with golf clubs and rifles. The bolster she bought didn’t work out. She wrapped her angel in her clothes for protection.  

    Jean treated me to lunch afterward at Ultimate Burger. I know that’s Yvette’s favorite.  We shared one well-done burger and some delicious fries.  It was perfect.  Afterward,  Jean drove me to the Target parking lot and took me to my car. I went home for a nap.

   I had the Twins at 3:30.  I had Twin A first. I work exclusively on the visualization exercise. I started with a long word with seven letters, GROOVES. She told me when she felt she had the word properly embedded in her visual working memory.  When she spelled the word for me from her VWM, she deleted the R.  Ah, that’s why she was having problems.  She deleted letters. Ah, I understood her problem.  She doesn’t process all the letters in a long word.

    The working memory only can process 7 pieces of information at a time, plus or minus 2, which means it can process between 5 and 9 pieces of information. That’s its limit. Of course, we feel like we do more. The alphabet has 26 letters in it. We recall it quickly using chunking.  We learn the letters in groups: ABCD, EFG, HIJK, LMNOP, QRS, TUV, and WXYZ. That’s seven bits of information with between three and five bits embedded in each chunk.  

   I learned the process of visualizing letters about 40 years ago at a Neuro-Linguistic Programming activity.  The leader advertised it as something that helped people improve their spelling.   I had trouble holding more than five letters when I started doing it.  I just closed my eyes, pictured the word SECURELY, eight letters, and easily read the letters backward off the image in my mind.  It sounds like a party trick, but it helps improve our reading and spelling.

   Once Twin A announced she had the image of the targeted word securely embedded in her mind’s eye, I moved the text so she couldn’t see the word. I asked her to spell the word. Then, I asked her to tell me one letter at a time. What is the first letter? The second? The third, etc?  Then, I asked her to identify random letters. What is the third letter?  The fifth? In order to do this quickly, the image has to be clearly visible in her mind’s eye.  I went through the text, asking her to do this exercise with each word.

    Then I had Twin E.  Unlike Twin A, who was initially the better reader, she had been applying the process with deliberation as we worked in our sessions.  Twin E said she was seeing a big difference in her reading. Not surprisingly, Twin A didn’t report a significant difference.  

   I saw both girls enjoy this process as if it were a game.  I met with them together.  If they did this work on their own, they wouldn’t have to meet with me for at least a few weeks.  

   I worked on the updates and listened to the radio for the rest of the day.

    Around 7 pm, Jean pulled into the driveway with her son-in-law and grandchildren.  She was here to pick up the plastic crate we packed with her two 15 lbs. angels.  It had been sitting in the back of my car where Joseph had put it earlier in the week.  Jean had a bunch of plastic zip ties to seal the lid to the plastic crate.  She asked for some tape and a Sharpie to write her contact information. Then they were off to the airport to deposit Jean for her flight home. 

   As I sat on the lanai and watched The Royal, a British TV Series about a ‘country’ hospital, I got a phone call from Darby. “Look at the comet.”  I saw a smokey vertical streak in the sky.  That was it. I was looking at something that hadn’t been seen from Earth for the last 80,000 years. Too bad Mike wasn’t here.  It would have meant a great deal to him.

  

Sunday, October 13, 2024

Sunday, October 13, 2024 

 

   Whatever else is going on in my life, I am attracted to greater order than I have for the rest of my life. I make my bed every day now, and when I get out of my shorts and T-shirt uniform, I make more of an effort to look good. I wear a bit of makeup and put on earrings.  

    While I like attending the Catholic church every Sunday because it’s a ritual that keeps me tied to Mike, I don’t feel welcome there. A few people reach out to say a quick hello, and Judy and Paulette, friends outside of the church, talk to me. Since both these ladies are involved in several ministries in the church, they have other things to discuss with any number of people after mass.

     When I attended Unity Church, I had a very different experience. A total stranger will sit down and find something to chat about.  I go there for their sound bath on the first Sunday of every month and Crystal Healing on the second Sunday. I probably would find their services interesting. They think more about abstract ideas for developing social unity. Rituals are important in the Catholic church. The readings often address issues in human relations. However, they also address issues of faith.  It’s the old faith and practice conflict. I even consider faith a form of practice.

   I was raised in a home without any religious practice.  My father was Jewish and an avid agnostic or atheist.  My mother thought nothing about religion and was a pagan by temperament.  She’s a child and a force of nature.  She wasn’t a profound thinker. Belief in God was pooh-poohed.  I observed that people who believed in a higher power exuded calm and security. I wanted that. I don’t know if you can say that I believe in God. I certainly don’t believe the way some of my friends were raised in their religion. I resolved to give myself permission to believe in God. I gave my right brain to believe while my left remains skeptical- at best. It works for me. 

   I attended the crystal healing service today. I arrived around 11:30.  Members of the congregation brought food for the social hour after the service. Someone brought a crockpot of spaghetti and meatballs. It was delicious. I had three small servings despite having had a soft-boiled egg, buttered toast with red raspberry jam for breakfast, and half a glazed donut during the social hour after the mass. 

    When I returned to the worship space after the social hour, I was surprised to see how few people were there for the crystal healing. Usually, it’s wall-to-wall people lying on yoga mats.  Several people walk around, placing a crystal on each chakra point and two at our feet.  I enjoy participating in the event, but I don’t know if it does much for me.  

 


Saturday, October 12, 2024

 Saturday, October 12, 2024 

   I had another good night's sleep.  For another day, I didn't do stinking thinking in the early hours of the morning.  The inner shaking feeling was gone.  The key was the belly breathing.

   I've been a belly and back breather all my life.  It gave me problems with therapists who couldn't see my shoulders go up and down and assumed I had stopped breathing.  I would slow my breath but still feel the air passing in and out of my nostrils.  They left me feeling I was doing something wrong.

   Then that damn incompetent Gokhale instructor. What a nightmare!   She taught me the Gokhale rib anchor.  That concept makes perfect sense.  My core muscles are much stronger for that understanding of where the contraction should be.  I can lie on my back and raise and lower my legs, easily stopping them anywhere along the way.  I couldn't do that two years ago. However, when I first tried the rib anchor, I complained that I couldn't belly breathe while holding it. Doreen told me to do chest breathing. It nearly killed me, literally.  It indeed almost drove me to a nervous breakdown.  If I do have some heart damage, it may be the cause of that, too.

    Mike was a chest breather. I always knew it would contribute to an early death.  When he was asleep, he took one and a half to two breaths to mine when I was awake. He was also a mouth breather.  Both of those breathing traits promote anxiety.  

  Why do you never hear correct breathing on a list of good health habits along with proper diet, exercise, and sleep?  I am astounded at the difference the belly breathing makes to my well-being.  Having returned to it is such a relief.  I feel I am myself again. I find belly breathing doesn't interfere with my rib anchor any more than rolling back my shoulders interferes with my rib anchor.  I have to hold the rib anchor against my belly breath and my rolled back shoulders.  It requires coordination and strength. 

    When Elsa and I visited Paulette the other day, Judy's friend Carol was down working on a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle. It's something Carol and Paulette do together.  I participate when it comes to finding the edge pieces.  I take no pleasure in matching pieces with such minute differences.  Drives me nuts! 

   Carol had a hip replacement, as I did. Her other hip has been bothering her. She hadn't been doing the exercises her PT gave her. What might those exercises be? She went upstairs and got the instruction sheets.  I already did most of them regularly, but there was a variation in one I had been doing. I had been lifting my hips while lying on the floor to strengthen my glutes and stretch the muscles in the front of my thighs.  Carol's instruction sheet went further.  While in the hip lift, extend the lower half of one leg so the other foot is on the floor and only one hip and leg supports the hip lift. Wow! That was an eye-opener.  I had no trouble doing this with my right hip and leg - but my left hip and leg. Well, that was a completely different story.  I lost height in the bridge every time I switched to the left leg. Very interesting. I had no idea my left leg was that much weaker than my right.  It gives me a clear goal.

    I had the Twins this morning.  The lessons aimed to embed letters into the visual working memory. I believe the girls pretty much bypass any conscious processing.  Ideally, you use the automatic, unconscious processing but constantly monitor it with your conscious mind.  You're always looking for errors, overseeing your own work.   It's hard to do both at once. That's why you write a rough draft and then edit it. You're not expected to produce a perfect manuscript on your first attempt. That's also why a batter can lose his mojo.  Conscious monitoring dominates, and he loses his magic. Learning to control who's in control is tricky.

   I spoke to the twin's mom about what I was seeing.  It's almost as if the girls have no conscious oversight over anything they do.  Because of this lack, they appear 'stupid.'  It looks like they don't know what they're doing. I gave their mom an example using one of her favorite activities, paddling, which is a team sport. She's been doing it for a long time. I told her much of her stroke is automatic, but she also observes it for form.  I was surprised to learn she does that all the time.  It's an essential part of her paddling practice, which she does several times a week when the activity is in season. 

   The conscious processing is analytical. It's almost impossible to consider someone who doesn't do it intelligent.  It's the picture of the dumb blonde or dumb anyone else, even if there is evidence that the person is brilliant because of their excellent schoolwork.  The role of oversight opens up a huge can of worms.  When I see a student has some awareness of their performance in any area, I realize there is a core of intelligence in there.  In the case of the girls, they both feel sad because they are poor readers. I had a boy who scored 69 on two intelligence tests demonstrating awareness.  When the school made it clear to his parents that their son wasn't learning like other students and his mom said she would teach him, The boy said, "Mom, that won't work." Such an insight shows substantial intelligence. 

  


October 11, 2024

October 11, 2024 

 

     When I called Jean, my Hanai sister who lives in a retirement community in New Jersey, her husband answered the phone.  It's easier to talk to him than her.  She is not doing well physically. She is in constant pain, and her pain is her favorite topic of conversation, understandably.  John, sadly, suffers from dementia.  He is a brilliant man who can still easily discuss chemical engineering but can't remember what happened three minutes ago.  He is aware of his condition and seems to be doing okay with it. He is a happy, senile old man.  He seems to enjoy my miscellaneous conversation. I usually talk about nonpersonal topics. Today, in my despair, I talk about how poorly I was doing.  John was a good listener. I also felt good that       I wasn't burdening him with my travails.  He wouldn't remember a thing I said. 

        I was considering making some changes to my will.  I had to find it first.  I had looked in several places with no success. I found it today on the coffee table on the lanai, where I had stacked other written material and projects when I cleared the dining room table.

 When I worked with the Twins this morning, I did the visual recall drill with both of them.  they both seem to enjoy the exercise.  If I could get them to do this exercise with each other as a form of play, that would be fantastic. I'm astounded that I never thought of this before.

This visual embedding work I started doing was partially inspired by Dahaene's lectures. He emphasizes the problems with the visual aspect of the reading process versus the aural. Twin E is making more of a conscious effort with the embedding than A. Twin A read wearer as water today. There is a lack of conscious oversight. They only do what their unconscious mind directs them to do.  They are never at the helm of their own behavior. They can only do what they've been trained to do.  This 'thoughtlessness' makes them look stupid.  How do I teach that type of oversight? Do I want to teach them this? If they have enough to make it through life, would they really be better evaluating their every move?

 Imprint in clay  E ran a head A  wearer as water.  lack of conscious oversight is what makes them look stupid. They only do what comes naturally. There is no oversight thought.  Do I want to teach them this?

      It was Hula Friday.  Lord, the teaching is lousy.  Last Friday, she got up on the stage to model the dance. We all loved that. I asked her if she planned to do that. She said no; she would start on the floor.  None of us have a good view of her that way except for the people right in front of her.  Her mic system is poor.  We can't hear her clearly and don't know the vocabulary.  Also, she only models the moves repetitively. She doesn't say things like it's two of these, then one of that, then two of the first move again. It's all bottom-up. She makes no effort to help.

 I finished listening to Why Fish Don't Exist by Lulu Miller on Audible. I loved it. It's brilliantly written, and her language is wonderful and endlessly engaging. Sadly, it's only four hours long. I could listen to this woman forever. What a wonderful writer. I chose a biography of Robin Williams next. Wow! What a comparison. It's repetitious without direction, and the language is uninteresting. It's as bad as Why Fish Don't Exist is good.

      After Hula, I went to the bank to cash two checks. I deposited one and cashed the other. When I arrived, there were two tellers and three people before me. Then, one of those tellers closed up, and seven people came.  It was a ridiculous situation.  I was going to stop at Costco on the way home but didn't have time if I wanted to go to Ulu Wini after their lunch. 

 I had a quick lunch and went off. There were only a few kids at the table. Most of the ones who were still in the program were playing in the playground set, which is a centerpiece of the community.

      The commercial playground set was installed during my first year volunteering there in 2015.  Children of all ages gather around the set. The older children sit on it or play with the younger children. The younger children clamber over it, using all the climbing and sliding options.  The age range of the children moving around the structure is from three years old to middle school children.  It's a pleasure to sit there and watch the show. 

      Only one student wanted to work with me, second-grade SL. I had only worked with her once before since school started this year. My notes said she had problems with memory.  She told me the letters moved about, spinning from the top of her head on the left side and the forehead in a counterclockwise manner. Today, we established that spin slowed down when confronted with letters.  I had her do the appropriate spin release.  If the spin is inclined to speed up under stress, allow it to speed up until it stops.  If it's inclined to slow down under stress, allow it to slow down until it stops.  ST did the latter.  I asked her if it was peaceful.  She nodded yes.   And the letters were stable.  

      I started with the word THE.  I had her press the letters into her Working Visual Memory at the forehead.  Then she had to wait until her 'mind gave her the word."  the instructions are to sit and wait as if waiting for someone else to say the word.  THE came up for her.  Next, we worked on OF.  This word didn't come up for her.  I told her the sound represented by each letter, and she blended the sounds.  I then reviewed THE and OF, having her imprint the letters in her VWM and wait till the word came up.  When she remembered OF, she looked surprised.  Then she looked away where. Before, she had given me rapt attention.  I asked if she was done.  Yes.  I sent her packing.  If a student has been paying attention, looks away, or becomes distracted, I take that as a cue that they had it for the day.  This is their brain saying they need time to process what's happened.  I considered a break like that part of the learning process.

      Since no one else wanted to work with me, I headed off to Costco. I only had a few items to pick up. I had to park at the far end of the parking lot; I anticipated spending half an hour in line. I chose the self-checkout. The bank of checkout stations at the far end was free. There was no one using them or in line.  

      As I walked out of the store, I checked each checkout line to see if Adolescent D was working on one of them. This would be his last day before school starts again on Monday. He wasn't on any of the manned ones, and he wouldn't have recognized me anyway since I was masked. 

        I removed my mask as I exited the store. As I crossed the street, D came toward me, pushing carts he picked up from the drop-off areas in the parking lot to return them to the front of the store.  I only recognized him because of his haircut, chin length, light brown, and wavy.  He had on a baseball cap and sunglasses. I didn't even see his face.  I was bareheaded and unmasked, but I had sunglasses on.  He didn't give me a second look.  I am not inclined to approach him and tell him who I am.  Given he only let me see his face on the Zoom screen twice in the three years I worked with him, I figured such an encounter would be traumatic.

         I came home planning to do a lot of writing on the updates and my Teaching document. I did neither. I played endless games of Free Cell and listened to NPR.   On one of the shows, they talked about the interstitial tissues. My question was: how do these tissues differ from fascia.  Coincidently, Mellissa called. She's a doctor. I asked her the question. They're completely different. Fascia is the saran wrap for every organ and every part of every organ. The interstitial tissue is between every cell. It sounds a little like bubble wrap.  These are two organs in the body that have been discovered in my lifetime.

      The doctors knew about fascia.  During autopsies, they would scoop it up and throw it away so they could get to the real organs.   The interstitium was undetected. It can only be seen under magnification.  In preparing the slides for magnificent the interstitium is destroyed. They were discovered by accident. Amazing.

     When I saw Dr. Reed the other day, concerned about my mental state, I reminded her I had requested an EKG.  She had ordered it earlier, but Kaiser never called me to make an appointment. She had a nurse come in and administer there and then. She called me the next day, saying she saw something on the EKG that concerned her. She wanted to do follow-up testing for a stress test and an echocardiogram.

      I got an appointment for November 14 at 9:30 for an echocardiogram and stress test. I will spend the day in Honolulu getting the tests.  I called to make travel arrangements. They will contact me two weeks before by appointment. I will go to our local clinic to pick up the travel documents for the flight and the taxi to and from the hospital.  The stress test alone will take four hours. I better have plenty of books on-tape lined up. 

     After I finished the session, I left for a beach date with Jean.  We met at Pine Trees. It's a lovely beach but not suitable for swimming.  Few beaches in Hawaii are good for swimming. All the ones I've been to have dangerous rock formations surrounding them, and most have boulders in the middle of the water you can bump into as you swim.  There is one beach that is relatively free of boulders.  The water never gets higher than your waist. You can swim in it, but it's not an ocean experience. The other problem with Hawaiian beaches is that sudden drops often make the water dangerous.  These beaches are gorgeous and fabulous for surfing but not the best for swimming.  Kua Bay is the best of the lot. They have lifeguards there now. The last time I was there, I asked the lifeguard about any incidents. Sure enough. He had just pulled someone out with a broken back.  He had been surfacing, and a wave caught him wrong and dashed him on the rocks. 

    Jean and I had no plans to swim. We didn't even put on bathing suits.  We sat on the beach, walked a bit, and enjoyed the view and each other's company. 

 I don't say much about people other than my students in these updates. Since the first readers are friends and family, I must honor everyone's privacy. 

 Jean had to be home by 11 because her son-in-law had an appointment.  The kids were home from school. She would watch them while he was out.  She wanted to stop off at Target before she went home.  I went with her because she wanted to meet Judy. The hope was she would be working at that time.  Judy was there checking people out. Her line was busy. I stood behind her, smiling. The woman who was checking out pointed to me. Judy ignored the signal.  She did it again, and Judy finally turned around. I gave her a quick hug and went on my way. While there, I  checked if the Haagen Das ice cream was still on sale.  It was.  

     I was Judy's last customer before her break when I went to check out. Jean never got to meet Judy.

     While I indulge in the Haagen Das ice cream, I am very disappointed in the taste. I don't know how much of this is due to the change in my taste buds with age and the change in the recipe from the last time I had ice cream before Mike died over five years ago.

 I stopped at Farm & Garden on the way home. Bill at F & G hadn't recognized the shrub I showed him that was in trouble.  I texted a picture of it to Margo.  It was a plumeria shrub, and it was suffering from scale. She told me to cut off the infected branches and treat the plant with Bayer's All in One.  When I told the clerk at F & G what I wanted, she got me Bioadvanced  Tree and Shrub Protect and Feed.  They said it was the same. It was no longer called Bayer's because it was associated with Monsanto. I hope so. They usually give top-grade service. They are a trusted company in a heavily agricultural area.

      I went home for a small lunch before heading to Ulu Wini. I only had sixth-grade ML today. We continued working on comprehension. After working with her, I stayed at the community center. I pulled out my computer, checked emails, and worked on updates. I love the atmosphere there.  

     Ulu Wini is a local income housing project that is a true community.  Someone donated a park playground set that is a central focus for all the kids.  I watch children of all ages play there and interact. They have no idea of how lucky they are to have that. 

     Of course, no one can call the Marshallese children lucky. They were forced to leave their island homes, which provided an even stronger sense of community.  I had the last remnant of that sense of community when I was a child. I lived in one of the first projects in NYC.  All the kids hung out in front of the building and on the street.  My sister had it even better. When we moved to the Long Island community of Great Neck,  she played in an undeveloped field that provided drainage for the area. There were several children her age in the immediate vicinity. While there were at least three other children my age, we were all freshmen in high school. Running around the neighborhood playing tag was out. 

     I had an appointment at 3:30 with Dr. Reed.  She used to be my primary physician. She switched to same-day care after she gave birth to spend more time with her baby.  Since she is the nicest lady in the world and the best physician by far, I see her rather than the other doctors.  Reed avoids extreme treatments when possible. She searches for more straightforward answers.  I came to her because I was concerned about my mental state, that internal shaking, and my fear of an impending breakdown.  

      I had spoken to Dr. Reed about my mental state before this.  She had said it didn't sound like depression; I took pleasure in things and felt better after contact with others. The problem was grief and loneliness.   An antidepressant didn't seem appropriate.  She recommended an over-the-counter pill, 5-HTP, which provides serotonin rather than just preventing its uptake.  She asked me how many I took. Two a day. That was too much. Too much serotonin was just as bad as too little.  I had to cut back to one a day.  The L-Theanine she recommended is good for anxiety; I could take up to 8 pills a day, two pills four times a day, but I should start with one at a time. 

      Dr. Reed also checked my breathing with her stethoscope. She could feel my intercostal muscles shaking. She recommended abdominal breathing. That made an immediate difference. 

 I had been an abdominal breather all my life.  Whenever someone observed me breathing, they commented on my deep breathing. That is with the exception of therapists, who watched the movement in the chest instead of the abdomen.  Then, a year ago, I signed up for individual lessons in the Gokhale approach to posture. I spent a lot of money on an incompetent teacher.  There was nothing individualized about her program.  She read from a script and could make no adjustments. She gave me a reason to believe she hadn't even read my intake form, which stated I had a spinal curvature. She never commented or acknowledged that problem. The day she worked on my feet, she was surprised I had arches when most of the people she worked with didn't. She then showed me a picture of a baby's foot to show me the correct shape of the human foot instead of exploring how I could improve my feet. That was the last straw.  

      When Doreen taught the lesson on the rib anchor, I complained I couldn't hold the anchor and do abdominal breathing.  Since I believed then, as I do a year later, that the idea of the rib anchor is correct, I made an effort to change my breathing to chest breathing as she directed.  Doing so undermined my well-being.  Her directions should have been to find a way to do abdominal breathing while holding the rib answer.  The same holds true for the shoulder position. You have to work to keep the rib anchor while rolling your shoulders back.  Too many of us have collapsed our shoulders and chests.  Our ribs stick out, and along with it, our bellies and our shoulders roll in and down.   The ribs should be down, and the shoulders and neck should be back. 

    I asked Dr. Reed to recheck me with her stethoscope after I did the abdominal breathing. She said she no longer felt the shaking. I felt light-years better. 

Thursday, October 10, 2024

 Thursday, October 10, 2024 

      Today was Yvette’s 55th birthday. I sang her Mike’s and my version of the birthday song, which involved a lot of improvisation. Some people look forward to it. One friend called to hear it when I forgot to call. One or two asked me not to sing it.

    I only met with Twin A today. Sometimes, one or the other of them is sound asleep at the time of our appointment. There’s no point in waking them. The session is over by the time they get their minds in gear. Besides misreading words without the awareness that she is doing so, Twin A does not recall the procedure I teach: the five steps to decoding multisyllabic words.   1. Identify the vowel letters, 2. Identify which letters or letters combination makes a vowel sound or is silent; 3. Divide the word into syllables 4. Identify the phonemes in each syllable and blend those sounds, 5. Blend the syllables. Every time, I have to walk her through the steps as if she had never heard it before.

    After I finished the session, I left for a beach date with Jean.  We met at Pine Trees. It’s a lovely beach but not suitable for swimming.  Few beaches in Hawaii are good for swimming. All the ones I’ve been to have dangerous rock formations surrounding them, and most have boulders in the middle of the water you can bump into as you swim.  There is one beach that is relatively free of boulders.  The water never gets higher than your waist. You can swim in it, but it’s not an ocean experience. The other problem with Hawaiian beaches is that sudden drops often make the water dangerous.  These beaches are gorgeous and fabulous for surfing but not the best for swimming.  Kua Bay is the best of the lot. They have lifeguards there now. The last time I was there, I asked the lifeguard about any incidents. Sure enough. He had just pulled someone out with a broken back.  He had been surfacing, and a wave caught him wrong and dashed him on the rocks. 

    Jean and I had no plans to swim. We didn’t even put on bathing suits.  We sat on the beach, walked a bit, and enjoyed the view and each other’s company. 

    I don’t say much about people other than my students in these updates. Since the first readers are friends and family, I must honor everyone’s privacy. 

    Jean had to be home by 11 because her son-in-law had an appointment.  The kids were home from school. She would watch them while he was out.  She wanted to stop off at Target before she went home.  I went with her because she wanted to meet Judy. The hope was she would be working at that time.  She was there checking people out. Her line was busy. I stood behind her, smiling. The woman who was checking out pointed to me. Judy ignored the signal.  She did it again, and Judy finally turned around. I gave her a quick hug and went on my way. While there, I  checked if the Haagen Das ice cream was still on sale.  It was.  

     While I indulge in the Haagen Das ice cream, I am very disappointed in the taste. I’m not sure how much of this is due to the change in my taste buds with age and the change in the recipe from the last time I had ice cream, which must have been before Mike died over five years ago.

       I stopped at Farm & Garden on the way home. Bill at F & G hadn’t recognized the shrub I showed him that was in trouble.  I texted a picture of it to Margo.  It was a plumeria shurb and it was suffering from scale. She told me to cut off the infected branches and treat the plant with Bayer’s All in One.  When I told the clerk at F & G what I wanted, she got me Bio advanced  Tree and Shrub Protect and Feed.  They said it was the same. It was no longer called Bayer’s because it was associated with Monsanto.  I hope so. They usually give top-grade service. They are a trusted company in a heavily agricultural area.

      I went home for a small lunch before heading to Ulu Wini. I only had sixth-grade ML today. We continued working on comprehension. After working with her, I stayed at the community center. I pulled out my computer, checked emails, and worked on updates. I love the atmosphere there.  

     It is a community.  Someone donated a park playground set to the community.  It acts as a central focus for all the kids.  I watch children of all ages play there and interact. They have no idea of how lucky they are to have that. 

     Of course, no one can call the Marshallese children lucky. They were forced to leave their island homes, which provided an even stronger sense of community, and are long gone in most of the US.  I had the last remnant of that when I was a child. I lived in one of the first projects in NYC.  All the kids hung out in front of the building and on the street.  My sister had it even better. When we moved to the Long Island community of Great Neck,  she played in an undeveloped field that provided drainage for the area. There were several children her age in the immediate vicinity. While there were at least three other children my age, we were all freshmen in high school. Running around the neighborhood playing tag was out. 

        I had an appointment at 3:30 with Dr. Reed.  She used to be my primary physician. She switched to same-day care after she gave birth to spend more time with her baby.  Since she is the nicest lady in the world and the best physician by far, I see her rather than the other doctors.  Reed avoids extreme treatments when possible. She searches for simpler answers.  I came to her because I was concerned about my mental state, that internal shaking, and my fear of an impending breakdown.  

    I had spoken to Dr. Reed about my mental state before this.  She had said it didn’t sound like depression; I took pleasure in things and felt better after contact with others. The problem was grief and loneliness.   An antidepressant did seem appropriate.  She recommended an over-the-counter pill, 5-HTP, which provides serotonin rather than just preventing its uptake.  She asked me how many I took. Two a day. That was too much. Too much serotonin was just as bad as too little.  I had to cut back to one a day.  The L-Theanine she recommended I could take up to 8 pills a day, two pills four times a day, but I should start with one at a time. 

    Dr. Reed also checked my breathing with her stethoscope. She could feel my intercostal muscles shaking. She recommended abdominal breathing. That made an immediate difference. 

   I had been an abdominal breather all my life.  Whenever someone observed me breathing, they commented on my deep breathing. That is with the exception of therapists, who watched the movement in the chest instead of the abdomen.  Then, a year ago, I signed up for individual lessons in the Gokhale approach to posture. I spent a lot of money on an incompetent teacher.  There was nothing individualized about her program.  She read from a script and could make no adjustments for me. She gave me a reason to believe she hadn’t even read my intake form, which stated I had a spinal curvature. She never commented or acknowledged that problem. The day she worked on my feet, she was surprised I had arches when most of the people she worked with didn’t. She then showed me a picture of a baby’s foot to show me the correct shape of the human foot. That was the last straw.  

  When Doreen taught the lesson on the rib anchor, I complained I couldn’t hold the anchor and do abdominal breathing.  Since I believed then, as I do a year later, that the idea of the rib anchor is correct, I made an effort to change my breathing to chest breathing as she directed.  Doing so undermined my well-being.  Her directions should have been to find a way to do abdominal breathing while holding the rib answer.  The same holds true for the shoulder position. You have to work to keep the rib anchor while rolling your shoulders back.  Too many of us have collapsed our shoulders and chests.  Our ribs stick out, and along with it, our bellies and our shoulders roll in and down.   The ribs should be down, and the shoulders and neck should be back. 

    I asked Dr. Reed to recheck me with her stethoscope after I did the abdominal breathing. She said she no longer felt the shaking. I felt light-years better.

 


Wednesday, October 9, 2024

 Wednesday, October 9, 2024  

  Wednesday, October 9, 2024. I found myself in a moment of confusion about Shelly's appointment time. I had initially thought it was on Wednesday, but then I convinced myself it was on Thursday. Just as I was about to step into the shower, the phone rang. It was Shelly. Thankfully, I hadn't fully lathered up and was able to quickly rinse off. I wrapped myself in a towel and settled in for the session. I was in desperate need of this moment of relief.

    I told her about my internal shaking. I attributed it to ongoing fear, endless fear.  There's nothing in my current life I'm afraid of that warrants this order of anxiety.  This is post-traumatic- distress from the years of explosive verbal attacks from my mother.  I lived in terror.

  I didn't have time to take a shower after the session. I had to get ready for Ulu Wini. I looked for my preferred earphones on the bathroom counter, where I was sure I had put them before I jumped into the shower.  They were nowhere in sight.  I ran around the house looking in all the other possible places I might have left them.   I returned to the bathroom with the extra set with the external mic. I put that set down on the counter and went about getting dressed. When I came back, there was the set with the external mic, and right next to it was the one with the built-in mic.  Weird.  I chose to think it was Mike. He knew how distressed I was and reached out to console me. It was either Mike or I had lost my mind altogether.  Door A or B?  

    I talked to Shelly about my internal shaking and extreme behavior.  I think terror underlies the shaking. I spent most of my childhood in a state of abject terror.  The next attack was guaranteed. I didn't know when it would happen and what would trigger it. I knew leaving a light on when it wasn't necessary would trigger one.  I was a child; I sometimes forgot.

    I remember the constant need to move quickly as if I could outrun the overwhelming feelings. It was like navigating a turbulent river. You had to paddle faster than the water, or you would lose control of the canoe. That's how I lived, always on edge, trying to maintain control of my terror.

   After the session, I looked up the significance of feeling like I was shaking inside. Yes, indeed, it was a sign of anxiety.  I know I've been distressed, obsessing about things that don't work out as I like.   It was bad enough this morning that I took two L-Theanine. Dr. Reed told me only to take one.  It calmed me down but left me feeling weirdly fuzzy.    It affected my work at Ulu Wini. I don't know if I was better or worse off for it. I just felt weirdly calm and spoke in a well-articulated, slow manner.

   Second-grade KJ asked to work on multiplication again. I gave her the same problems I gave her last time: arrays, and asked her to make an addition and a multiplication problem for the array. She didn't have a clue, so  I started from scratch. 

  Second-grade JM was next. She needed no help with word recognition, and I'd say she is above grade level. We worked on comprehension using We Don't Eat Our Classmates. While she had read the book before, she couldn't answer some fundamental questions.

      Third-grade TC had difficulty with automatic recall.  I asked her if she felt a block in her brain in the area behind her ear. She described the block. It was white, large, and hard that slid in sidewise.  We could not eliminate, move, drill through, or around it.  I don't know how the spinning at the left temple was identified. She did a spin release there. When it was done, the block behind the ear was gone. Okay. Let's see how this plays out.

    Last, I worked with a second-grade SL. I hadn't worked with her since she was in first grade. I checked my notes from the previous school year when she was in first-grade. My notes said she had problems with automatic recall. I worked on Fry Sight Word List 1-25. She had trouble with most of the words. She had issues with memory and visual processing.  She identified the left temple as the place where she ''saw'' the words in her head. I have found the forehead to be the best spot for embedding the word into the visual processing system.

    Over the thirty years I have been doing the BrainManagementSkills with students, instructing them on which parts of their brains to use to be effective readers, I have found the forehead area to be the only one that consistently works for visual processing.  While students may get some embedding in other brain regions, the word's visual image is stronger and clearer at the front.  However, there is no scientific evidence to back up my theory. The primary visual cortex is at the back of the brain, not the front.  As I experience it, the forehead is like a computer screen. It is where we have access to the data processed and stored in the rest of the brain.  I have seen images of the brain firing when reading posted by Stanislas Dahaene, a French neuroscientist interested in how the reading brain functions. The front of the brain, where I think the words are initially embedded, doesn't light up, suggesting it is not involved in the reading process.  I have no explanation. All I can say is that so far, those students who haven't used that part of the brain to embed the image of the word have done poorly and have improved once they switched.

     I directed SL to use the area behind her forehead. We identified the spin that interfered with her using that part of the brain, but I was too tired to proceed with the release. 

   I took a long nap when I got home.  The anxiety persisted.  I had no contact with Joseph today. I am concerned he is uncomfortable with me.  His personality is controlled and moderate. As far as I can see, his emotive range is from A to D.  He's steady and reliable. Nothing like me. But we find a way to enjoy each other, mostly discussing ideas. He's an excellent intellectual companion. I   hoped he was not totally freaked out by my bizarre behavior the other day. I apologized, but that won't relieve his concern that I'm a crazy lady capable of anything. Some people require predictability in all aspects of their lives. The unexpected is out, unforgettable if not unforgivable.

     I worked with the  Twins when I got home.  She read Australia as Indiana. When I challenged her, she said the two words looked alike.  She read most of the words in the passage accurately and fluently. And then she misread  Australia, reading it as Indiana, and didn't see a problem with it.  She said she thought they looked the same. We also worked on identifying the main idea. When I asked her about the story, she grabbed two words from the text: Americans and water. I highlighted those two words, one in bold and the other in italics.  Then, I underlined all the references to rabbits. It was four rabbits to one American and one water. I told her you could tell the story by what had the greatest number of words.  I must figure out why she doesn't know when she misreads a word.

     Twin E said her reading accuracy improved significantly because of our work with the embedding.   When she practiced with me, she took her time and checked if she had embedded the word in her visual memory.  Twin A hadn't been doing that. I suspected she felt she didn't need to because her reading was good enough as it was. Her word recognition skills were much better than Twin E's.  Twin E may catch up and surpass her. 

    I finally got around to clipping to bougainvillea in the yard off my bedroom.  Darby doesn't want any of that green waste; it has thorns big enough to puncture a truck tire. I  had one puncture a vein once.  Mike came to my aid.

   I was wide awake until 10:30. Usually, I'm not good for much more than watching videos after 8:30 as I wind down for the night. However, tonight, I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the hour. 

 


Thursday, October 31, 2024

Thursday, October 31, 2024     In my last session with Shelly, I worked some on the lingering damage from my relationship with my dad. Mostl...