https://unherd.com/2022/12/jk-rowling-works-her-magic-again/#cxrecs_s

Many of the longest-lived cultures with very low rates of dementia are getting close to nine or nine and a half hours of sleep a night, which sounds ridiculous for most of us. But we do have to stop thinking of sleep as a waste of time. Now I track my sleep with my watch and I’m very diligent about it. I get at least seven hours a night.

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/023c9f1e-8837-11ed-bb21-8f4d97ec7b02?shareToken=232dd70c8a87da27613e5e443c88a20f

I’ve been so very lonely in this place

I cannot understand the death of God

Are we meant to do with out his grace.

On his dying face our feet have trod

Abandoned in the darkness I fell down

I could not rise again till I had died

In The waters of my tears I drowned

I wanted only truth, they’ told me lies

Where is my map my compass my sure guide?

My guardian angel was a myth of note.

He stood behind my shoulder, by my side.

He was no man despite his shining coat

Feel inside, your instinct knows the clues.

No one else can walk on in your shoes

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/aug/11/viv-albertine-deborah-levy-rachel-cusk-divorce-menopause-midlife?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

“It has been an old comparison for our urging on – the Beehive; however, it seems to me that we should rather be the flower than the Bee – for it is a false notion that more is gained by receiving more than giving – no, the receiver and the giver are equal in their benefits. The flower, I doubt not, receives a fair guerdon from the Bee – its leaves blush deeper in the next spring – and who shall say between man and woman which is the most delighted”

I wish I were on Hutton Roof again
The limestone and the little open flowers
The sea at Arnside like a distant gem
The spaciousness, like days with far more hours

I wish I were as agile now as then
I’d climb the mountains, hills,the little lanes

Windermere below still winding on
The handsome Lake,the old man, Coniston

I wish I were in Dent, the curious shapes
The hills and their deep mystery engross
The height, the little river, the mistakes
The lost loved man alive, to hold me closeI

I yearn to be on Hutton Roof today
The holy smell of grass, the feel of air

https://cpj.ca/defiance-not-compliance-turning-the-other-cheek/

https://www.cpj.ca/defiance-not-compliance-turning-other-cheek

“Wink goes on to examine the phrase “if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” Why, Wink asks, does Jesus reference the right cheek specifically? The answer is both challenging and enlightening. Jesus lived in a right-handed world where left hands were reserved only for unclean tasks. Therefore, we can see assume that the person doing the hitting would have used their right hand. The only way to strike someone on the right cheek with your right hand is a backhanded slap. Such a blow connotes an insult, not a fistfight, and was a normal way to reprimand someone over whom you had power (e.g. masters to slaves, husbands to wives, Romans to Jews). To strike your equal in such a manner was socially and legally unacceptable, carrying with it a huge fine.

With this new understanding of the context Jesus was speaking in, picture the scenario with yourself as the oppressor. You are a wealthy, powerful person whose slave has displeased you in some way. You reprimand your slave with a backhanded slap. The response you expect is the response you have always received from your slaves – the response you yourself would give if someone higher than you treated you the same way. You expect your slave to cower, submit, and slink away. Instead, your slave defiantly turns their other cheek and challenges you to hit them again. What can you do?

You would like to give your slave another backhanded slap to show them their place, but to do that you would have to use your left hand which would admit that your action is unclean. You could hit them on their left cheek, instead, but it would be embarrassing to hit your slave the way you should hit your equal. You’re confused. You don’t know what to do. Flustered, you could order the slave be flogged, but the slave has already made their point. They have shown you that they are a human person with dignity and worth. You don’t own them, you cannot control them, and they do not submit to your rule.

And so, in light of Wink’s insights, Jesus’ instruction not to resist evil and to turn the other cheek transforms from an instruction to accept injustice into a challenge to resist systems of domination and oppression without the use of violence. Rather than ignoring an evil situation and hoping it will go away, Jesus is telling his followers to find creative, active, and nonviolent ways to assert their humanity and God’s love in the world.”

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/26/well/live/music-therapy-cancer.html

Ms. Caudill and I then went to a conference room to discuss music therapy with my husband, Don, and our friend Alexandra, who has engaged in music ministry. Music must be an especially effective form of therapy, Don supposed, because it directly expresses and creates emotions. Alexandra agreed. Singing in a choir for and with people impaired by dementia, she has witnessed elderly men and women who could not remember their own names recalling verbatim the words of beloved hymns.

“Music lights up neurons between the right and left hemispheres of the brain,” Ms. Caudill said. “It can also aid in neuroplasticity, helping the brain form new connections.” A stress reliever, music is used to recover speech, improve walking and assist in the retrieval of memories. Popular and classical melodies can be infinitely modified to meet various backgrounds and tastes.

[Read more about the use of music for mental health.]

Sometimes depressed patients are encouraged to compose new lyrics to a favorite song that can then convey their reactions to their condition. Ms. Caudill recorded a lymphoma patient singing her version of Shawn Mendes’s “In My Blood” and upon discharge gave her an MP3 of her new “anthem”: “Sometimes I feel I should give up, but I can’t. It isn’t in my blood.”

A virtual wall stops grace from being shared
.The still,small voice no longer can be heard.
The sacred, silent space unoccupied
No burning bush nor tempest speak the Word.
We centre all our self on the absurd
For iPads cannot pass through any I.
The still,small voice no longer can be heard.
God no longer feels inclined to share.
The golden clouds of angels cannot fly
No burning bush nor tempest speak the Word.
The altar’s stripped, the rituals mere nightmares
.The ancient priest says Mass and wonders why.
The still,small voice no longer can be heard.
A virtual wall stops grace from being shared.
Jesus is made flesh and , silent, dies
No burning bush nor tempest speak the Word.
No man is an island,John Donne cried
But now there is no truth to satisfy
The still,small voice no longer can be heard.
No burning bush nor tempest speak the Word

At the very edge of human sight
Places we don’t go till in despair
Love is waiting like a golden light

The world in panic, will the virus bite?
Noone ever said this world is fair
At the very edge of human sight

Is there really danger of such might,
Where our hidden fears emerged dark ,bare
Love is fading where’s the sun, the light?

Panic like a virus can ignite
Responses that are worse than germs out there
At the very rim of human sight

Our defences that are usually adroit
Now lie like dead young soldiers unrepaired
Love is fading to a weaker light

The still,small voice is quieter than a bird
The storm is passing by, will it be heard?
At the very edge of human sight
Love is dying,looks like candlelight

Respect your own privacy and do not peer into your unconscious mind

If you are a psychoanalyst remember that there is a reason why things are unconscious.

Your unconscious mind will communicate with you in your dreams and if you don’t remember them wakeb up.

Developer piercing glare how to use if anybody trust the pry into your innermost parts

Do not kill anyone without a trial.

You’re not the judge not the jury

I hapve  heard  grass singing in  the wind.
I   have walked through poppy fields in  sun
I have  struggled  when dark rain descends

I have watched  trees’ shadows in the ponds
I have  crossed the  arctic wastes of pain
I have  heard  grass singing in the wind.

Another soul is writing  with my hand
I have  wept  while loaning him  my pen
I have   struggled  when dark rain descends

I have found  the edges  of the mind
I  have   sensed a  silence un-contained.
I have  heard  grass singing in  the wind.

I have  grieved for   all who are confined
I have  cringed at  creeds of  cunning  men
I have  crawled  when  crushing  rain  comes down

I have seen the storm  through camera lens.
I have felt the   solar system bend.
I have  heard  grass singing in  the wind.
I have  shuddered  when dark rain descends

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https://www.nytimes.com/2021/10/12/style/falling-in-love-again.html

https://jpawlak2.medium.com/discovering-your-unconscious-mind-44811080630a

https://www.moneysavingexpert.com/news/2023/january/nhs-prescriptions-annual-season-ticket-/

They lay down in awe and fear,
Of what their love was bringing near.
They gazed into each others eyes
And so did tantalise.
They lay down to gaze into
the eyes and soul of one who’s true.
They gazed until ,when overcome,
They were united into one.

Their souls and bodies were conjoined,
And thus their hearts were well entwined;
As honeysuckle on the walls,
In joy’s sweet arbours does grow tall,
Their loving lips and eyes and hands
Gave pause to time’s soft flowing sands.
and as they touched and gazed and longed,
The birds sa

ng out in glorious songs.

Which is me and which is you?
Are we one or are we two?
I give you all myself today,
So this shall be our way

When Mary got home,she took off her coat and put the kettle on the fire!She got the tea caddy out and put some tea into the pot.Suddenly the door burst open and Annie her exuberant neighbour fell into the kitchen
Are you ok,Mary asked her gently.Those 4 inch heels are rather dangerous.
Annie was wearing a sky blue track suit,red stilettos and a big green pashmina. Her make up had melted all down her face as she was so warm with running.She had some waterproof make up but had the feeling it might be dangerous to clog the pores.
Where have you been?She asked curiously.You were ages.
I forgot to get off the bus as I fell into a reverie.
That sounds like a black hole!
I was daydreaming so I ended up by the river and a policeman asked me for a date,sort of.
Did you have any dates with you?
No,I only had Stan in my bag,then.
Where is he? Have you put him into the wardrobe?
It’s already full.He’s still in the bag at the moment on the sofa .
The two women fell into a sad, mutual silence realising Stan would never now teach Emile to swim in the bath nor return his overdue library books.
Am I liable for his fines,Mary wondered prudently.
I can pay if you like,Annie,said generously.She got out some home made biscuits and gave one to Mary who was wearing a long black dress from Lands End which resembled a nun’s habit.
Are you thinking of retiring to the cloister soon ,she continued.
No,I don’t believe in Christianity any more.Christ.yes,Christianity ,no.
What about Xmas?Will you celebrate?
I shall pray and do out the kitchen cupboards.
Are they that bad,asked Annie curiously, twiddling a ringlet with her thin fingers.
Possibly,Mary giggled!
They didn’t teach domestic science at Oxford!And Mother was always busy cooking and cleaning the grate after she got home from work.
Talking about grates,I’d better look at the kettle.
She lifted it off the fire and held it up in the air.It was very black on one side,just like the one Mary’s mother had had so many years ago.
Why don’t I make some tea,she asked.
I don’t know,said Annie.Is this the Xmas quiz?
No,you don’t understand.It’s a rhetorical question.
Oh,do stop showing off,Annie told her.I only went to Knittingham Polytechnic and we never did Greek,just Aramaic.I have forgotten it now.
Mary poured out the tea into two pint sized mugs and the women sat silently warming their hands on the mugs and meditating on the wilful backwardness of the local poly which now only taught Latin,Hebrew and chemical engineering.The latter was an error as the professors thought that was what Wittgenstein had studied before finding Bertrand Russell more attractive.
Russell’s paradox had haunted Annie ever since those happy student days.Whereas, she being a lady with a very high libido would have preferred Russell to his paradox ,if she had been given the choice.What Lord Russell would have liked we can only speculate.

I’m sorry the prime minister is not here ear today. He is looking at the Channel and says he will have to have an eye test because he can’t see any migrants in dinghies.

The prime minister has promised that e,,, that everybody will have to , study mathematics,,until they are 18 years old. I am wondering what exactly they are going to teach. The paper say that there are, not enough mathematics graduates. But do you need a degree in mathematics to teach people how to read and how to do arithmetic? Because those are the things that children fail in primary school and in the secondary school just go through without help.

My question is this. Are we going to get maths graduates to help the high flying children even more teaching so that they’ll be ready to do a master’s degree before they go to university or are we going to get intelligence sensible sensitive teachers who can teach all the children who are failing at GCSE level how to read better and how to do the kind of arithmetic we need in everyday life and in looking after our money or paying taxes. Will we teach them how to understand inflation? Will we make it easier for them to find a place in society? Learning how to budget and and what to do if you get into debt? How to understand credit cards and how to avoid being take it in by offers of money all the time?

We’re talking about the poor and they’re not so poor but people who are not so skilled at reading long forms and have no one in their family able to help.

We need to to empower the poor but will any government do that?

Let them solve quadratic equations,

https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2022/06/mastodon-mammoth-extinction-climate-change/661351/

Ice Age megafauna went extinct only moments ago, in staggered waves over human history. The last mammoth, for instance, died after the first pyramids were built. Yet we know little of the lives of these animals with which we shared the planet for hundreds of thousands of years.