reliably unreliable
I saw on facebook someone was complaining about executive dysfunction--she said she can't have a complex conversation while driving. Also, something about not being able to watch tv while doing something requiring attention online.
I was amazed this was considered a problem. Many people chimed in sympathetically and I was shocked. They talked about labels for this and how to get diagnosed. I felt like it was a weird joke or I'd slipped into another world.
I wanted to reply that I can't drive at all, let alone have a conversation while driving. And I don't watch tv at all, let alone watch tv while doing demanding tasks online. I thought this was a valid, regular way to be, not strange and a disability.
I wanted to tell the person that maybe modern life is expecting too much of us.
But maybe I'm so off I can't even tell what's a disability, or anything at all. I realized my comments might be hurtful and didn't say them. She was complaining--she was suffering about this. What I wanted to say sounded unkind.
Maybe I'm just getting old. When I was a kid...maybe we were allowed to do one thing at a time, more.
A few days ago, I woke up from a dream--in my dream, Ming said, "Love is mineral."
I replied, "Oh, I always thought love was animal."
In real life I think I'm an ok critical thinker, but in dream life, I'll immediately accept some pretty wild ideas. In my dream, mineral meant like chemical--love was dopamine and oxytocin or something. Cold chemicals--gray and gritty, stuff you could put in a little dish and measure in grams.
As for my dream-belief about love being animal--animal meant something soft and living, fleshy, of mammals and our breasts. It was a dream thing where all that was understood in an instant. I woke up laughing.
As for vegetable, that was an option we didn't discuss. I like to think of love that way, though--tangled vines thickly twining in a secret garden, or cold, bare twigs in winter that burst greenly into life in spring. Summer fruit heavy and juicy, breaking open. Large pomegranates, weighing down a tree.
Twenty years ago when I was a teacher, I was trying to help my students learn about critical thinking. We were talking about unreliable narrators. Maybe that was the quarter I was teaching the novel Sula.
I asked my students--in the X-Files, just because someone says something, can you believe it? People have personal motivations, biases, things they're hiding, things they want, and they might say whatever, or some skewed version of the truth they believe for known or unknown reasons.
I think it's strange some kids have to be taught this. How did they get to be 18 years old and not understand advertisers, sexual predators, and anyone else who wants to use you for any purpose can say anything to try to get what they want?
Most students seemed to believe that what comes out of someone's mouth is trustworthy and straightforwardly believable. Wow, if only I could have lived such a charmed life.
One of the X-Files mottos was Trust No One. I think that series was kind of about unreliability--that was a fun aspect of it. And wanting to believe. How can you believe if you can't trust anyone.
I think the connection between Scully and Mulder was an intimacy that contrasted with the idea of trusting no one. They had one another, at least. So the intimacy between them was delicious as a source of comfort and better knowledge.
I want to be a reliable narrator. I struggle with trusting myself and others.
Someone told me my heart was so open--it was a compliment. Years ago, it was hurting me to try to figure out when to have my heart open and when to have it closed to protect myself. I want to be real, but sometimes I close the door.
Nowadays I struggle with other stuff. Can you believe we've lived here four and a half years? I wonder when I'll be a real Nevadan, if ever? Yee haw!
This is one of my favorite songs from when I was young--it's about wanting knowledge.
I want the answers quickly
I was amazed this was considered a problem. Many people chimed in sympathetically and I was shocked. They talked about labels for this and how to get diagnosed. I felt like it was a weird joke or I'd slipped into another world.
I wanted to reply that I can't drive at all, let alone have a conversation while driving. And I don't watch tv at all, let alone watch tv while doing demanding tasks online. I thought this was a valid, regular way to be, not strange and a disability.
I wanted to tell the person that maybe modern life is expecting too much of us.
But maybe I'm so off I can't even tell what's a disability, or anything at all. I realized my comments might be hurtful and didn't say them. She was complaining--she was suffering about this. What I wanted to say sounded unkind.
Maybe I'm just getting old. When I was a kid...maybe we were allowed to do one thing at a time, more.
A few days ago, I woke up from a dream--in my dream, Ming said, "Love is mineral."
I replied, "Oh, I always thought love was animal."
In real life I think I'm an ok critical thinker, but in dream life, I'll immediately accept some pretty wild ideas. In my dream, mineral meant like chemical--love was dopamine and oxytocin or something. Cold chemicals--gray and gritty, stuff you could put in a little dish and measure in grams.
As for my dream-belief about love being animal--animal meant something soft and living, fleshy, of mammals and our breasts. It was a dream thing where all that was understood in an instant. I woke up laughing.
As for vegetable, that was an option we didn't discuss. I like to think of love that way, though--tangled vines thickly twining in a secret garden, or cold, bare twigs in winter that burst greenly into life in spring. Summer fruit heavy and juicy, breaking open. Large pomegranates, weighing down a tree.
Twenty years ago when I was a teacher, I was trying to help my students learn about critical thinking. We were talking about unreliable narrators. Maybe that was the quarter I was teaching the novel Sula.
I asked my students--in the X-Files, just because someone says something, can you believe it? People have personal motivations, biases, things they're hiding, things they want, and they might say whatever, or some skewed version of the truth they believe for known or unknown reasons.
I think it's strange some kids have to be taught this. How did they get to be 18 years old and not understand advertisers, sexual predators, and anyone else who wants to use you for any purpose can say anything to try to get what they want?
Most students seemed to believe that what comes out of someone's mouth is trustworthy and straightforwardly believable. Wow, if only I could have lived such a charmed life.
One of the X-Files mottos was Trust No One. I think that series was kind of about unreliability--that was a fun aspect of it. And wanting to believe. How can you believe if you can't trust anyone.
I think the connection between Scully and Mulder was an intimacy that contrasted with the idea of trusting no one. They had one another, at least. So the intimacy between them was delicious as a source of comfort and better knowledge.
I want to be a reliable narrator. I struggle with trusting myself and others.
Someone told me my heart was so open--it was a compliment. Years ago, it was hurting me to try to figure out when to have my heart open and when to have it closed to protect myself. I want to be real, but sometimes I close the door.
Nowadays I struggle with other stuff. Can you believe we've lived here four and a half years? I wonder when I'll be a real Nevadan, if ever? Yee haw!
This is one of my favorite songs from when I was young--it's about wanting knowledge.
I want the answers quickly
But I don't have no energy
I hold a cup of wisdom
But there is nothing within
My cup, she never overfloweth
And 'tis I that moan and groaneth
posted by Laura-Marie @ 1:15 AM
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