"Disillusioning Discoveries", "A Few Crises", "I've Been 'Assimilated'"

March 28, 1999

©JAL - view of the Superstition Mountains

Laura read an article in Starnet today about the trails at the Superstition Mountains just southwest of Phoenix. She hadn't ever taken us there, so on the spur of the moment, the Gang of Five went. I don't know what Glen and Mother talked about as they drove there, but the Triad had a lively conversation en route.

A vigorous morning discussion...

Today's edition of Starnet featured an article called "Positive self-talk builds image, fosters creativity, expert says". The basic premise of the article is that:

"The constant internal chatter often referred to as ``self-talk'' comes from our subconscious mind, she said. It reinforces our internal image, for better or for worse."

It seemed to be of the basic "think positive" philosophy.

Laura's post to the Community Front Page concerning it had me puzzled:

This idea is a cart without a horse!

Visualizing a good self-image doesn't make for success ... being a success makes for a good self-image!

I couldn't understand it, and posted the following:

It is a constantly reinforcing circular thing...

Positive attitude and opinion of oneself leads to success which leads to even stronger self-esteem which leads to even more success. The reverse side, also true, is that negative opinions of self impair one and engender failure, increasing worse self-esteem. When one finds their ownself or a loved one in the downward spiral, changes need to be made and fast.

Most of us have 'been there'.

Laura and I had a very vigorous discussion this morning regarding this article.I couldn't see why she seemed to take objection to it.

Laura agrees that the negative tape running constantly in our heads is a bad thing. What she's saying is when entering into a new activity, we should remove ALL tapes, all judgments, and start the slate clean, "tabula rasa".

She gave as an illustration how I learned at 28 years old to ride a bicycle. I began, not knowing whether I could do it. "Just try", Laura urged, while having the wisdom to have me start on a child's bike. The ability to sit on the seat and be able to touch toes to ground gave me confidence. I succeeded on the 20" wheel bike. Then I went up to a 24" wheel bike. Getting at ease with that bike, transferring those skills to the adult 26" wheel bike became easily attainable.

The critical weakness in this philosophy is the "magical thinking" involved, the concept that from nothing comes success. Each success builds on a previous success. Those clinging to the illusion that belief without proof will enable them are a priori doomed to failure. There must be the foundation in reality, or it's all just a house of cards. The insecure will suffer more harm when "belief" didn't make it so. When you try a new adventure, just go into it with an OPEN MIND. You can say, "I succeeded at X, which is similar to Y, so I might do well at Y, too." But then again, that is building on a secure reality of earlier success.

Everything you have ever accomplished, from your earliest successes, such as learning to stand upright and learning to walk, builds on each other in a consecutive fashion.

We should also face failure without self-judgment. Asking ourselves, "What can we learn from this?" and then moving forward, with the new knowledge, will enable us to use it as more data to make successful plans.

March 29, 1999

7:30am - Not much fun and games are slated for today. I've got a bunch of sewing instead. . . Talk to you later!

A piece of the past at Goldfield Ghost Town

9:30pm - It's been a generally productive day. The vest is done, and the man came and got it. It fit him quite well.

Also I finished the page on our Sunday jaunt. When we went to where one of the trails were, we saw the cluster of buildings comprising Goldfield Ghost Town . It looked intriguing. All five of us had a fun time there, and learned a few things besides.

We won't mention getting lost yet again while en route to pick Julia up from work. I'm really getting to know the rural hinterlands. Bleah!

March 30, 1999

I was reading the Interlude meditation for the week. "Taking Notes for the Inner Voice" reminded me it had been a while since I had a visit with the Muse. So I sat down with a large blank sheet of paper and let the words rip.

Here was one of the earlier efforts:

HARD HOPE So what did you think you'd find when you went there? All the words and rhythms plucked away and only barrenness? See even in the iciest ground, the seeds lie in wait. JAL, 3-30-99

That was nice, but I was really pleased with the following poem, which came later in the session:

Not The First Time It was not the first time she had such illusions. It was the first, though that she knew that the cheap twinkle down things of the star-ish points were fake. Real stars can't be grasped, you know. If it were the first time, she'd of held those things and awed. But now, she just looks at them and puts them in a Box. They'll be stored with the other useless garbage. Hard Luck lies there in those piles, Maybe Brave Luck can tear some meaning from it all. It wouldn't be the first time. JAL, 3-30-99

It may have been well inspired by that vigorous discussion Laura and I had last Sunday. Disillusionment with 'magical thinking' can have its rewards.

* ** *** ** *

I assembled one little page I've been thinking about for a while. I now have See the Sights in Arizona . . . A Pictorial Tour! linked to from my main index page and from the index of all our pages.

WHEN did I write "We, The Dreamers", that poem on the overall index page? It seems nauseatingly pretentious to my older and wiser self. Was it only two or three years ago? Oh well. Maybe someday I'll look aghast at the stuff I'm writing now. Hopefully this means I'm improving.

I really should do some more sewing now. . .

March 31, 1999

©JAL, January 1999

Another month is nearly over and the moon is full tonight. Time's getting away from me. I'm in a bit of a moody phase. It'll pass, as all things do, but right now I feel downright pouty. I'll tackle some more sewing, and contemplate doing taxes. I've been procrastinating terribly on them. Blah. Blah. Blah.

I Feel Shitty I feel shitty, Oh so shitty, I feel shitty and snitty and down And I pity Anyone I have to be around! ~ ~~~ ~ (Imagine this sung to the tune of "I Feel Pretty", from West Side Story) ... apologies to Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim...

I'd finally settled down to sulky sewing, when my self indulgent mood got interrupted by a loud call from Laura. "Come to the living room, NOW!" I came to find Laura crying. Her son Anton was in the hospital and it appeared to be acute appendicitus. With complications. He hadn't peed for three days. THAT was an odd twist. Our symptoms books didn't elucidate. So Laura and I, along with our friend Shayna, went to the hospital in Chandler. We found his spouse Cynthia in the gift store. We'd stopped in there to get him something to cheer him up. A cute wolf-like puppy looked huggable, so we brought it up to him.

Poor Anton looked in terrible pain. He must have been given a sedative and could hardly talk. Laura had a hunch and did the press and quick release test for appendicitus. That didn't hurt, Anton said. Rather it was towards his lower back. Laura was pretty sure it was kidney stones.

We waited quite a while before learning the doctor's verdict. Yes, it is kidney stones. They will see first if he can pass them, before they resort to surgery.

~ ~~~ ~

Also our dear friend Serena (Shayna's mother) had to take a very sick cat to the hospital. Time will tell how little Tasha does.

~ ~~~ ~

And earlier this morning, Laura's Mother had a heart scare. But Laura took her blood pressure, and her color looked good. With some judicious questioning, Laura was able to figure out her malaise was due to side effects from combining her blood pressure medicine with some Kahlua. Laura's Mother is a very tiny woman, and it doesn't take much alcohol to effect her. She's doing better now.

~ ~~~ ~

With all the crisises, my little mood got forgotten quickly. A part of me likes to think that I felt crappy because of a psychic connection to all these things going on that I didn't know about earlier. But that could be just 'magical thinking'. Anyway I'm sending good thoughts to Anton and Serena, for what they're worth.

April 1, 1999

I woke up to a cold, rainy day. It's the kind of chill that eats into you, and my plaid flannel shirt feels good. I've just added a sweater. There's still no word on Anton.

Tasha

But we did receive a kitty report. Tasha's in bad shape. Her little inner throat is swollen and bleeding from two dental surgeries. Originally all the back teeth were to be removed because of gum disease, but they didn't think she'd survive. So just the top back teeth were removed. As bad as her physical state is, her emotional state is even worse, though. Tasha's always been nervous and fragile. It shouldn't be a surprise when animals have the same sort of frailties to which humans are prone.

Our dog Max certainly seems quite human at times. Laura and I had a cute interchange with him this morning. Laura was petting him and calling him a puppy, using baby love talk. I was sitting right near them, and started making goo goo ga ga sounds in a plea for some attention, as well. Laura and I then sprawled out on the floor. Not too long after we were deeply into our cuddling and kissing, we felt a long furry dog snout plop itself on our laps. He was looking up at us with big soulful brown eyes. Max, too, was making a plea for more attention! Humans, animals, all - we all crave loving attention.

Good News!

Anton passed all his stones but one! He sounded a lot more chipper this morning when we called him. Laura lectured him good about drinking plenty of fluids! I think he paid attention.

(evening note: the last stone made its way out!) Whew!

~ ~~~ ~

Good news always makes us hungry. We had quite a feast at Golden Corral! I had one half of a huge foot long baked potato with butter, lasagna, sliced carrots (a VEGETABLE!), chicken breast (with skin), three cheese enchilada rolls, small amount grilled potato, onions and green peppers, blueberry muffin, bite of a chocolate cookie, bite of a chocolate brownie, iced tea. . . (whew, no wonder why it feels like I ate a horse!)

They've got new recipes at Golden Corral. Everything tasted better than it used to. It must be one of the advantages of small town living, for while we were in 'hog heaven', who did we see but Serena and Shayna, stopping for lunch after doctor visits! We joyfully hugged, and they went off in search of food.

Then, after we left and were braving the rain drops, we saw some friends from the SCA! Small world. Also, we learned why the food is better. Golden Corral has a new owner.

April 2, 1999

I've been assimilated. I learned from the Mining Co.'s newsletter that Microsoft's ( AKA 'The Borg') Internet Explorer 5.0 was out. It was free, so I downloaded it. It appears many pages designed using that browser don't work in Netscape. We're talking totally blank screen. So, resistance being futile, I downloaded it. I had a bad feeling when somehow it made the two Netscape icons appear speckled and hazy, while its large blue E icon looked very sharp and clear on the Windows main screen. Sure enough, without so much as asking me, it took over Eudora Pro. IE popped right up when clicking on a URL. So now to see what happens when I click on my lowly ancient (circa 1995) Hot Dog web editor's PREVIEW function.

(pause of chunking bits....)

A bulletin came up with the message. Netscape Communicator is no longer authorized to handle shortcuts. Would you like to reauthorize it? Or similar words. So I put it back in control. Now Eudora uses Netscape again. But I will say the new IE is intelligent. Somehow it was able to import all the bookmarks from Netscape. And it does know how to handle wav files. I heard Rockapella's choral voices (new musical temptation, there). Strangely, Netscape also does wavs using the Windows Media Player.. Since IE has been 'put in its place', I don't mind having it there.

Best of all, we can now listen to RAM audio files. I was delighted to hear John Bailey READ his journal entries. He sounds somewhat like I expected, a slightly more dignified Tim Curry.