My daughter asks what I’d like
for Mother’s Day. I answer,
“Empathy, Sympathy, Understanding
all those ephemeral essences,
invisible and they take up no space
in my closets or drawers.”
She makes a face, almost a grimace.
“But Mom, buying a bouquet of roses
for you would be so much easier.”
the more I appreciate her. Today I post a poem I wrote about her a while ago. Tomorrow I will post
a few thoughts about parents and ambivalence. Dear Readers, I would welcome your thoughts on the
topic of our mixed feelings toward our parents.
Paradox pervades our daily life, and yet we rarely acknowledge it/take it into account. To define it, a paradox is a statement that embodies two concepts that seem to contradict (even violate) each other but nonetheless are true.
For instance, creativity and destruction are inherent in our existence. We deconstruct the old to create the new, as in an artistic advancement. For example, at the beginning of the twentieth century, the Spanish painter and sculptor Pablo Picasso broke the former rules to create his new art forms, and the Russian composer Igor Stravinsky transformed the realm of music in his novel composition, “Rite of Spring.”
In a recent uplifting movie, “A Man Called Otto,” a paradoxical transformation occurs. Otto, a troubled soul determined to be nasty at every chance he gets, grumbles and growls at people and animals. Nothing pleases him. He resolves to end his miserable life, but each attempt he makes is interrupted by some amusing event that summons him back to living. A charming Hispanic neighbor named Marisol moves across the street and appeals to him for help in several ways. She, in turn, is a very giving person who clearly grasps the give and take of human relationships.
The dynamics between her and Otto are especially delightful to me, because I had to learn this vital equation in early adulthood. As the oldest of five children, born to a gifted but overwhelmed mother (the seismologist Ruth B. Simon), I perceived myself as mom’s helper, as a giver. But my mind blocked out the other side of the equation, that I was also a receiver of care.
In the relationship with Marisol, Otto is transformed. Ironically, he changes from the most self-absorbed, nasty individual to the most giving. (I won’t spoil the movie by revealing the end which is also a paradox, a mixed message of loss and gain.)
The film helps to introduce the subject of paradox in the process of psychotherapy. In psychotherapy, we study the evolution of human relationships that are uprooted/destroyed in the hopes of uncovering new or modified perceptions.
Like an artistic endeavor, it is a creative process. We are molding a different self, and actually if we tune in to our daily happenings to examine our responses/reactions to them, we open the possibility for reframing our perceptions and ourselves. For example, as a client raged about how his family stunted his psychological development, he remembered that they sent him to a good college, an experience that greatly expanded his knowledge of the world. He began to realize that, although his parents had damaged him, they had also nurtured him.
Juxtaposing the two sides of reality is a creative act. The opposite psychological process, or “splitting,” involves seeing the world as all “good” or all “bad.” Splitting is like traveling through a narrow tunnel in which the only source of light is straight ahead. Alternatively, when we are able to juxtapose the negative and positive in relationships and situations, we see the complexity and expansiveness, similar to crossing a bridge when we are surrounded by light from all directions. Clearly, the view from the bridge offers a greater perspective of the world than traveling through a narrow tunnel.
Conclusion: As a creative act, the psychotherapeutic process breaks down some aspects of our former self to create (or mold) one that perceives our relationships and our world with greater understanding.
Dear Reader, I welcome your comments: jsimon145@gmail.com
Jane Simon, M.D.
What does “dieting” really mean? We think of a diet as equivalent to restriction and are turned off by the idea of deprivation. (I haven’t yet met a human who cherishes the thought of any kind of deprivation).
But in a broader sense, we’re always following one diet or another; diet simply means what we eat, whether we indulge in a diet heavy in pizza or a healthier one (without an overload of carbohydrates) and select one rich in vegetables.
We humans complicate the matter of good nutrition. The subject intrigues us. Innumerable books have been written and sold resulting in millions of dollars pocketed by authors. And yet, I contend the matter is simple, but requires the old-fashioned concept of discipline. Discipline is another bane of our existence. We yearn for freedom while discipline requires attention and conscious choice: to do or not to do (which in itself, could be viewed as a kind of limited freedom). Either I eat this orange or I eat this slice of pizza. It is that simple.
If one wants to lose weight or maintain a healthy weight one eats more vegetables, fresh fruits and sources of lean protein (fish, chicken, eggs, beans, ow-fat yogurt and less beef and pork and cheese) and eliminates bread, pizza, cake, cookies and ice cream.
An occasional hunger pang is okay. An occasional treat is too, as long as one defines it as such.
No one is perfect. I made a mistake yesterday morning. I make my own oatmeal cookies because I have a sweet tooth and include healthy ingredients, very little butter or sweetening (honey), one egg and lots of oatmeal, whole wheat flour and wheat germ, golden raisins and chopped walnuts. This batch as usual was delicious. But I could not stop eating and demolished more than half. I told myself the ingredients are healthy but the matter also involves quantity and I had overdosed. Suddenly I realized I had behaved as a person with an eating disorder! I observed honestly, without berating myself, and determined to reform. I simply cut down on the calories for the remainder of the day. In brief, no one is perfect. If one falls off the horse, follow the old adage, get back on again.
I’ve added the photo of my first attempt at making huevos rancheros for a Sunday breakfast that includes a well-balanced amount of protein (eggs, vegetarian chile, and a sprinkle of Monterey Jack cheese) vegetables, tomatoes and guacamole and grated onion and for carbohydrate, corn tortillas. (What’s missing is a dollop of low-fat sour cream.)
Conclusion: A diet is simple but discipline (which includes honesty) is essential.
Dear Readers, I welcome your comments: jsimon145@gmail.com
(Some Thoughts after reading the Obituary of Poet
Bernadette Mayer, WSJ, December 10, 2022, p. B14 )
We come in all sizes and flavors
pigtailed or well-coiffed, etc., etc.
Our nationalities are many
and to save our world
We simply have to recognize
that everyone needs to be seen
that everyone needs to be heard
that everyone needs some kind
of appreciation for who they are
for what they stand for
and hope to sort out
creativity from destructiveness
to share our thoughts and feelings
our gripes and delights
to open our ears and sights
to the possibilities of beauty
and ugliness in the nature of
our being and to capitalize
on the beauty, to minimize the ugly
and to hear what is there
as well as what is not there
and to love and love and love
which means connecting
and appreciating something
within the heart and soul
of each one of us
When do we do embrace and when do we distance ourselves from one another?
I think of us as magnets. We either attract or repel. My daily walks in the park with my dog highlight this point. Canines either engage and play with one another or snap and run away.
Last week I attended a book party at the Corner Bookstore (on Madison Avenue and 93rd St) to hear the poets Molly Peacock and Phillis Levin discuss their decades long friendship with each other, detailed in Molly’s intriguing new mosaic of a prose and poetry, A Friend Sails in on a Poem.
Peacock has pieced together journalistic tidbits of their ventures in different places, including enticing food venues, along with some of their magnificent poems. The reader is privy to how they have nurtured each other and each other’s art, not by critiquing each other’s writing, but by listening, appreciating, encouraging and, at times, offering a sprinkling of helpful suggestions.Their relationship has deepened and mutually rewarded them for decades.
They met and were drawn to each other in their twenties in a poetry workshop at Johns Hopkins University and immediately recognized and embraced the differences in each other. How rare an art!
Peacock acknowledges she began as a confessional poet who doesn’t hesitate to expose her foibles, while Levin reveals herself as reserved and hesitant to expose the personal.
The morning after the reading, I wondered about what draws us to one another and, alternatively, what repulses?
Yesterday’s session with Mr. K. (name changed to mask his identity) popped into mind: Mr. K is thinking of ending his relationship with his woman friend of two years because she doesn’t like his friends and refuses to socialize with them. He can’t imagine how he can build a life with someone who doesn’t appreciate his friends. Neither of them cares to explore the causes for her dislike. It is what it is, just like puppies in the park.
The opposite of love is not hate, which embodies an attachment of another kind. Rather, it is indifference that smacks of lack of caring.
Love involves sharing, accepting, caring, wanting the best for the other. Also important, though challenging at times, is doing something, participating, engaging in an activity that we’d prefer not to. Love can involve stepping out of our comfort zone.
Competition can also obstruct friendship. Peacock and Levin acknowledge that competition was never an issue between them. Mutual regard for both similarities and differences lies at the foundation of their relationship.
Hurting another’s feelings either intentionally or inadvertently distances the other.
Honest communication is as essential to a relationship as soil and water are to nurturing a plant. By contrast dishonesty devalues our integrity and wounds our feelings as an arrow punctures flesh. I experienced this a few years ago in a relationship with a colleague whom I at first very much admired for her brilliance. Sadly, I had to let go and lose the benefits of our relationship when dishonesty undermined and dissolved the bond.
From Peacock’s A Friend Sails in on a Poem: “The reflection of love is in our diary entries from these years. At odd moments at breakfast in Cazenovia, together we made a shorthand of weather, food, and poem titles.”
Conclusion: Caring relationships are essential and are responsible for (the essence of ) our humanity and well-being.
Dear Readers, I welcome your comments. jsimon145@gmail.com
