Patient 82 should be dead. At the age of 63 he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. In most cases, he would not have lasted a year. But seven years on, patient 82 is alive. Not merely alive — thriving.Patient 82 should be dead. At the age of 63 he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. In most cases, he would not have lasted a year. But seven years on, patient 82 is alive. Not merely alive — thriving.
Day: December 26, 2022
He bent down on his right knee
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Oh,John Joe was a farmer’s son.
- He lived up in the hills
- When he went to tend his sheep
- He saw the cotton mills.
- The rivers ran with water pure
- And so provided power
- Yet over these dark ruined towns
- The heathered hills did tower.
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Mary was a local girl
- Se walked out on the moors
- She wore a dress of silky cloth
- Printed with small flowers.
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John Joe saw Mary
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When he was dipping sheep
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She peered over a dry stone wall
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And saw the new lambs leap.
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Her hair was long.Her hair was gold
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Her eyes were sapphire blue.
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In John Joe’s eyes she was so fair
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What was a man to do?
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He watched her walking all alone
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Was she sad or sick?
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He showed her how his dog behaved
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And showed her shepherds’ tricks.
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So one day,he held her hand
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As they walked to the Pike.
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They stood up there and gazed all round
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So John thought he would strike.
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He bent down on his right knee
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And spoke to Mary then.
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I’ve loved you Mary since we met
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I hoped we’d meet again
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Mary smiled with her blue eyes;
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Her lips were pink and bright.
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I love you too and love the hills
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And. love the summer light.
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The next year they were married
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Mary wore white lace.
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She looked so happy then
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To know she’d her own place.
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The church bells rang,the people sang
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John and Mary wed!
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And naturally, when evening came,
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At last, they went to bed.
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When Mary lay in John Joe’s arms
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She knew this was her home.
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And so for many, many years
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About the hills they roamed.
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They cared for sheep and hens and goats
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They cared for children three.
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They never had a falling out…
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But talked beneath a tree.
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From youth to age the years went by
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But John still loved his bride.
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And Mary too was happy
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With John Joe by her side.
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Their faces,lined, were full of cheer
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Their hair as white as snow
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And everywhere that JJ went
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Mary too did go.
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Until the day came for his death
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He lay down in the grass
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Mary ran and held him close
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And thus sweet John did pass.
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The muffled bells rang from the tower
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John Joe was carried in.
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The parson prayed and hymns were sung.
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The sheep dog made a din.,
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In the dark earth John was laid
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And Mary wept and cried.
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what will I do now,my sweet John ,
-
without you by my side?
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So Mary grieved and wept and sighed
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And thus she spent two years…
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The loss was great and bent her back
-
with the weight of care.
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For when we open up our hearts
-
We feel both joy and woe.
-
This is the pattern of our love,
- Which like the river flows
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Wilfred Bion and The Importance of Not-Knowing
https://www.therapysummit.com/article/wilfred-bion-and-the-importance-of-not-knowing-part-1/
The image is a common one: a child crying due to some unseen force. The mother enters and, through words or touch, soothes the child to the point that he ceases to cry and goes on being. What happened here? Sometimes the child will be soothed without even the slightest touch from the mother (no changing of a diaper or offering of the breast), and yet something material has changed within the baby. For Bion, what happened is that the child’s experience was contained by the mother (Szykierski, 2010). The child has not yet been able to put his experience into thoughts for himself, and has therefore used the mother’s thinking ability to make his experience more palatable. Bion believed that, through the mother’s presence and reverie (which is to say, her ability to perceive what is going on for the child), she can take in the child’s experience, use her mental capacity to digest the child’s intolerable experience, and give it back to the child in a form that he can now tolerate. The mother has now contained the child’s experience (Brown, 2012). The child is then left in a much more manageable state
D
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Is there sacredness in this world now?
We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls
Yet men have died in places that appal
Women too and children then unborn
Fell into cold dark earth in lands forlorn
As our weapons grow, our hearts are hard
The people live in Gaza behind bars
The water all polluted as taps drip
Is this war or is it vengeance fit?
In Britain, it’s the poor who lose the war
As it was when Jesus Mary bore
Yet here are clerics blessing marching bands
A military show for all the land
The genocide in Europe of the Jews
The self destructive actions of the proud
The fields of France filled sick with blood and bone
Who are we to cast judgemental stones?
The War’s not over when the fighting stops
The soldiers and the tortured suffer shock
The widows and the parents all bereaved.
The unborn children hover in unease
We let the prisoners out from camps of death
But who would take them in or take their path?
The injuries will travel down the years
As still we fight and still we live in fear
It’s Europe’s grasp and greed which was the cause
Of death in Gaza, Syria, in long wars
Yet we judge we are more civilised
When we self defend with bitter lies
How my heart sings 