Archive for August 2011
Healthy Dreaming
Try as I might, even though I know better, I continue to fall short of my ideals. I believe in the benefits of getting a full night’s sleep, yet I stay up late, and get up early, falling short of that goal. I know the value of eating a well-rounded diet of modest portions, yet I eat a narrow range of foods and continue to consume excessive portion servings. These are simple things that I have full control over. There are many more versions of this scenario that others face.
Maybe what is bothering me is the fact that I have failed to maintain a routine of walking and exercising to take care of my degenerating lumbar discs. Hopefully, choosing to write about these things will trigger the urge to achieve the ideals I value. My physical health will be an important asset in the future life we have been dreaming about lately.
On the drive home from the lake last Sunday, as we passed the multitude of horse farms along the way, I asked Cyndie if we were going to come up with a name for this property we are envisioning. She said, “Yes.”
I asked if we would have a sign at the entrance. “Yes.”
I wondered if I could make a sign out of stone, or if wood might better align with my abilities. Some of the places we pass have really beautiful signs.
Cyndie suggested a name. I took to it immediately. When we got home, I checked for active domain names related to it and found none. I may eventually test it out on family and close friends, but I don’t plan to reveal it until we actually purchase a property. Naming an imaginary property doesn’t feel right to me. It is quite possible that a place we discover will present its own name. In the least, I would like to know that the name we have in mind seems suitable for the farm we find.
I can’t help but compare all the local options we have looked at thus far, to a special place we know in Portugal. If we ever come to realize this dream farm of our own, the two places will definitely be related.
Paradise lost
I do believe that I will need to be dragged, kicking and screaming, back to work today. I have been thrown out of the garden of Eden. I have been kidnapped from my crib. I have been ripped from my mothers arms and tossed out into the world with nothing to protect me from the packs of wolves.
Okay, okay. All we did was drive home from the lake to end a week of vacation. To top off our last day, moments before hopping in the car, we took one last swim. The water was divine. Perfect temperature, and calm as could be. Glassy. There was no boat traffic in the vicinity. It was like we were alone in the world.
I think we were.
Quite frankly, we plotted a couple of excuses for use in a call to my day-job to buy another week away. It doesn’t hurt to dream.
When we arrived home, we heated up some left-over pizza from our favorite Hayward source, Coop’s. We are soaking up every last morsel of one fabulous week of vacation at one very special place. Maybe I will try to avoid looking at the clock all day long so the work day will pass as quickly as a day of vacation.
Here’s another shot of the paradise we left behind…
Flying Time
This morning dawned as my final day at the lake after a week of vacation. The weather is just about as perfect as it could possibly be, just like the day before, and the day before that. In fact, the entire previous week has been divine, even with a couple of thunder showers tossed in. For whatever brilliant reason out of the mysteries of psychological behavior, I found myself, twice, waking from a dream about a past workplace. That sure felt like a stab at my attempts to completely dissociate from work during my time off. Maybe that was my mind attempting to purge work from my thoughts, by doing so while I was sleeping. Thanks, anyway.
One project that I resumed during the week was sculpting the wood bracelet I am making for Cyndie. I tend to work meticulously slow, and that gives me ample time to enjoy the transformation from a chunk to the flowing shape. I am fascinated by the variety of visuals that appear as the grain is revealed. Lines appear that I would love to keep, but then must sacrifice in the effort of working toward a more refined shape. These are a couple of shots that I captured a few days ago. It is now even more finished than is shown in these images. It is a real trick to capture all the detail in a 2-dimensional image. Maybe a video is in order…
There is something that I have discovered about how fast this week has passed in my mind. These days of doing almost nothing have flown by so quick that today feels like we have only been up here for a long weekend. In fact, today is day 10. Tomorrow, I return to work. A few days ago, I discovered that I had no idea what time it was. I have rarely looked at a clock all week. When I checked for the time that day, it turned out to be 2:30 p.m., about 3 hours later than I imagined it might be. It occurred to me that on a normal work day, by that hour I would probably have checked the clock about a hundred times.
My thinking is that I should try checking the time repeatedly, while on vacation, so I can absorb how much time is passing while I am doing nothing. That way, maybe the glorious days will feel like they last as long as a day of work.
I’m just sayin’…
Sick System
This morning is another calm and beautiful day up at the lake. Picture perfect. It is odd to think about the comparison between the incredible serenity here as I write this, and the intense drama playing out at the same time on the east coast under hurricane Irene. It is very similar to something that is happening in the world of health and wellness related to a little spirochete or corkscrew-shaped bacteria named Borrelia burgdorferi that is the cause of Lyme disease.
Last night, Cyndie’s parents arrived for the weekend, and they brought a movie to watch called, “Under Our Skin.” It is a documentary that reveals the hidden story of the epidemic of Lyme disease occurring now that is being intentionally disregarded by a health care system and medical establishment willing to put profits ahead of people. It is shameful.
It boggles my mind that an intelligent society can fall to this level of collective depravity. Like many other despicable economic situations we have allowed to play out, corporate greed, banks and lending, farming and the food industry, oil & gas… we are letting the same thing happen directly with our health care. I guess the end result is the same. The food we have available to eat has become so processed in the last 30+ years, it is almost impossible to consume a healthy diet. It is getting increasingly difficult to afford a home or fuel for everyday life. Why not include doctor’s care and pharmaceuticals in the list of things that put individuals at risk for the profit of a select few.
My wife, Cyndie, has direct experience with Lyme disease, lending this documentary increased impact for us. She endured an undetected onset of the illness for some time, until one morning she woke up with undeniable neurological dysfunction, most notably, facial paralysis of Bell’s palsy. It took a chunk of time for the cause of her variety of ailments to be treated as Lyme disease, and when they finally did, administering long-term massive doses of antibiotics through a PICC line, she experienced significant recovery.
To this day, it is unclear whether the little bugger spirochetes still linger in her system. The bacteria can form a biofilm that serves to protect the organisms from the antibiotics. They have the ability to hide or mask themselves. The corkscrew shape allows them to drill through tissue, similar to the bacterium that causes syphilis.
Why isn’t syphilis an epidemic? Why have we managed previous illnesses like the HIV/AIDs afflictions with long-term drug treatment protocols? What is different now? Well, we now allow genes to be patented and there are huge profits available to those who control drugs and disease. Insurance companies have a vested interest in avoiding expensive long-term care. By working in collusion, doctors who stand to profit are serving on panels establishing treatment protocols. At the same time, doctors electing to treat patients outside of the unrealistic protocols that have been established, are prosecuted and their licenses revoked.
Meanwhile, there is evidence that this under-treated Lyme spirochete is turning up in the brains of Alzheimer’s victims. Why would we allow our health care system to become so dysfunctional that it allows people to suffer untreated?
There is a hurricane of illness out there, and the majority of people are unaware. It is a calm day of normal health from their vantage point.
Clues
.
.
any
calm day
hunting
for treasure
is nothing more
than one clue
leading to another
and nothing ever ends
when distraction
is the rule
and the dream
that inspires
a chase
ends up having
inorganic origins
that drip
drip
drip
like an old and leaky faucet
.
.
.
Partially Helpful
I saw the movie “The Help” yesterday afternoon, with Cyndie. I came out of the theater feeling moved, entertained, and somewhat emotional over the experience. She had little to say. It was like it had poked her where she already hurts, but offered nothing beneficial for her. I wanted to explore some of my experience, but was sensing that she wasn’t interested in talking about the movie (or maybe, just wasn’t able). She does work as a racial equity leadership development specialist and transformational change consultant.
I got the feeling that there is a vast gorge between us regarding understanding complexities of racial inequity. The movie does a pretty obvious job of packaging the serious and dramatic situations of mistreatment of an entire race of humans, into a convenient parcel for popular consumption. It prods, to make people aware of the uncomfortable, without risking making them truly uncomfortable. I think it only served to make my wife feel like it sustains the damage of ongoing (unrecognized) inequity. By acknowledging a little of the problem, we satisfy ourselves that everything is okay now. It’s not. I think that made the experience of seeing the movie, entirely unsatisfying for Cyndie. It made the movie irritating for her. But that is my impression, speaking for her from my vantage point.
Afterward, I looked for some information about the movie, and when I read to her from this blog post: [Inconvenient Facts: The Whiteness of Memory in “The Help” Versus the Ugly Realities of Jim and Jane Crow America by Chauncey DeVega] she reported that the writer expressed pretty well what she was feeling, but couldn’t find the words to say.
Overall, I guess I would say that the movie is partially helpful. It does have people talking about the issues of racism and racial inequities. I don’t believe that it does much to inform on the actual realities experienced, nor on the extent of continuing institutionalized racism, and unacknowledged white privilege, that exists to this day. For that reason, in the long run, the movie may actually hurt, more than it helps.
Day Off
This morning it is quiet up at the lake, except for the waves strumming away on the beach and one distant rolling thunder. We easily slept in because the cloud cover obscured the rising sun that otherwise fills the room at dawn.
Yesterday morning, the last of family departed for the city, leaving Cyndie and me with the place to ourselves. As wonderful as this paradise is to share with family and friends, there is a complimentary specialness to being here alone. We lingered in the morning and did some reading. I played my guitar. Cyndie busied herself with polishing rocks she has collected. Cyndie fried up some “bullseyes” and we had brunch on the deck. Then we played a card game of “CrossCrib” in which I somehow skunked her in one hand of play. Yes, it called for a rematch. If you know the game of cribbage, I topped the victory-hand off by scoring a double-run in the crib.
By the time we had finished with that, we were both inclined to take a nap in the hammock, however, at the same time, the beautiful day was calling us to the beach. We decided to do a set of rehab exercises –her for the knee, and me for the back (which are not that dissimilar)– and then headed down for a swim. While we were in the water, an eagle made a low pass overhead, but then meandered away without further interaction. The swimming led to hunger, so after showering, we made a feast of cheesy nachos and salsa, with added garnish of cut-up leftover cheeseburger with fried onions and Coops pizza. We played a game of Scrabble on the iPad while we dined on the deck, and the opportunity for that nap in the hammock just faded away.
The mosquitoes offered a deciding vote on saving the nap for another day when they began to harass us in superior numbers to our ability to fend them off. We gathered all our things and headed for the shelter of the porch.
It felt like a day of vacation.
Perfecting Technique
Our wonderful friends, Barb and Mike, joined us over the weekend to help kick-off our week of vacation up at the lake. You may be able to spot me in the photo, practicing the art of vacating. I’m not sure I have it mastered yet, so it is a good thing I have a full week to perfect my technique.
Relative Something 