Tuesday, March 5, 2013

DAY 37) Brain Based Belligerence?

“I’m such a silly twit.”
“Sorry, can’t except that. When you call yourself a twit it means you may call others that too.”
“Well, I can’t help it if I’m an idiot. I forget things so easily.”
“Two things occur when we call ourselves idiots; we create a semantic basis of belief that demeans ourselves and worse, we are ready thereby to demean others too. We lack some compassion.”
“‘Semantic’ basis? And what do you mean; I lack compassion?”
 “Semantics is about word choice; we create habits that make words and phrases less-better for ourselves than more-better. And there are multiple levels to compassion; most of us think of it as expressing sympathy, or even with more feeling, empathy. Compassion cares for and with, yet allows as is. You have compassion aplenty!”
“Apparently not enough if I call people idiots! Sympathy, empathy, compassion; the difference?”
“Sympathy is a feeling for; Empathy is a feeling with; Compassion is having understanding.”
“Hm. ‘Understanding’; not ‘feeling’?”
“Feeling for, with, and part of everything is compassion; it allows for forgiveness of the self first, and thereby everything and all else for ‘whatever’; although that does not excuse, condone, or permit terrible things, or even silly things, ha! It just allows for an understanding of how things are as they are.”
“Okay. Why do I forget things I’ve known all my life? Or why do I forget everyday things like right now? I can’t remember a date! Or where I put something. I need my little routines, you know, or I cannot function!”
“You think you cannot function, so you don’t. If you thought you could adapt, you would. We each are what we think we are, even though it takes lots and lots of practice to think oneself into a newly habituated person, ha!”
“Still, I’m just worried I keep forgetting things.”
“M’Lady. You are physically and emotionally exhausted. You are 90 years old, and you keep the pace of people not even half your age. You’re alert and caring and thoughtful and considerate, and you run this house and tend to meals and then insist on doing the washing up too. We work at this Memoir from 6:30 a.m. when you greet me with tea until 8:30 or so every day, and even through our meals or breaks we keep engaging in conversations like this. Today and yesterday you wrote about four pain filled deaths and three weddings. We also did the Fairy Party day! And the Vargo caravans episode! No wonder you are tired! Your brain is like a multi-complex with a kazillion secretaries all scurrying to the distant reaches of time to gather documentation, and then their losing some of the pages on the way back! The short term secretaries have taken a holiday! You don’t focus on them much. But they’ll be back when the distance runners are done! You certainly care enough about them too.”
She smiles at me. “Thank you for that. I feel much better. Now then, let’s get back to work!” 
And as she gets up, gathers up some of the tea things, and leaves some things to me, I look around at the ghosts in the house, and wonder just who is listening?


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