The Road to Diamond, Day 14: Home-bound

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December 12, 2024- Last night was no fun. I got up, twice in the night and knelt by the open toilet. I felt a bit better, after the second time, but nowhere near well enough to go to my scheduled work assignment. The school administrators had no problem with my staying home. I felt a bit better, still, when it approached time for me to get a chiropractic adjustment. Still, the protocol for stomach flu is no contact with regular appointments, for twenty-four hours, so I rescheduled that as well.

I probably got more sleep today than I have in twenty-five years, thus accounting for the fairly quick rebound from this morning. I kept dreaming that I was going through a couple of folders that my friend, Kathy, gave me to read. There are no such folders here, so maybe they are at her house and I will be asked to read them later.

Other than that, my waking time allowed for catching up on reading, and on a bit of binge-watching shows like “Lioness” and season 5 of “The Expanse”. “The Chosen” is also going to be in the queue, but as the weekend approaches, there are three days of intense activity-so long as I make an overall recovery. The computer screen is no match for Acker Night, a Red Cross Christmas Party and a major Baha’i gathering.

“How’s That for Love?”

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November 19, 2024- So says Kate, the adolescent daughter of a pediatric surgeon and an intelligence operative, to her mother, after hugging her father, after he’d been attacked by the father of one of his patients. This began the second episode of “Lioness”.

Love doesn’t always come easily and even the deepest is not always requited. We humans always need to have free will, before any kind of attachment or commitment can be made. I am no different, in that regard. There are those whom I have placed in the categories of friend, or extended sibling, who once wished that I would offer a different, more intimate role in my life.

Then, there are situations where mutual love exists, but the life experiences of one or both parties serve as blocks to the free expression of that love. A fear of commitment may follow the sudden death of a spouse, after which there was no time for grieving, for processing, for closure. Compound that by the incomplete grieving of one’s children, and the wariness is multiplied.

The real deal, in this set of circumstances, places the needs of the loved one, and the loved one’s family, front and center. Nothing changes, in the lover’s self-concept. Alternative plans are prepared, just in case, but the communication does not stop. Life goes on, in every other avenue of endeavour, while every effort continues to help the beloved achieve dreams and goals. There is wide latitude given, in the hope that the grieving over the prior loss can resume, and become complete. There is a standing offer of emotional and spiritual support.

How’s that for love?

Misogyny

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November 17, 2024- I watched the first episode of “Lioness” this evening. It is a spy thriller, centered on women secret agents and fighters, in a Middle Eastern backdrop. Each of the women has a male advocate, if not a lover. They just don’t really need those men, day to day. One of the central characters comes to the Lioness program by way of escaping from a gang of disaffected, misogynistic men.

I thought back to how I was raised-to be a gentleman (by my father), countered by male peers who were alternately respectful of our mothers, sisters, grandmothers and aunts, while carrying a veneer of seeing other girls and women as means to an end. It was the stuff of adolescence, certainly, but subliminally was carried forward into our group psyches.

My wife became my equal, my partner, by dint of her sheer intellect and tough personality. Penny grew to become nobody’s fool. I became someone who did not need a fool. As the first true love of my maturity grew into a fully independent woman, so I began to grow into a fully independent man. From there, we both became interdependent.

In the years immediately following her passing, I found the sticky residue of my adolescence clinging to my psyche. As sheer will power and prayer had helped me shed alcohol dependency, thirty years earlier, so did they help me shed the stench of misogyny that was trying to get out. I let it out, along with the lack of self-esteem that is behind all such negative dust. True maturity had been reached.

Young men, around the world, face challenges to their self-concept that have historically been faced by posturing, adopting a dominant position towards their female peers and subscribing to a false sense of entitlement. This is the ethos of The Pack. There is an alpha male, but his “true strength” is only evident when the rest of the peer group is present, for reinforcement. The public face of misogyny is the Incel (“involuntary celibate”), who takes the stance that abstinence from sex is being forced on him by a conspiracy of women and other men.

In truth, though, focusing on one’s sexuality is dealing with only the outer trappings of insecurity. Procreation has an important place in the order of society, but it is only a place. A person, male or female, who has been raised to truly value self, who is focused on his/her totality: Intellect, variety of interests, physical stamina, dreams and goals, social skills, spirituality-will be more likely to know success, to be resilient in the face of challenges and less likely to blame others when things go wrong.

These are things I have come to fully realize, over the past fourteen years.