She is my daughter and is immersed in the turbulence of her sixteenth year. Following a recent (1)bout with illness, she learned her best friend would soon be moving away. School was not going as well as she had hoped, not as well as her mother and I had hoped. She (2)exuded sadness through a (3)muffle of blankets as she (4)huddled in bed, searching for comfort. I wanted to reach out to her and wrench away all the miseries that had taken root in her young spirit. Yet, even aware of how much I cared for her and wanted to remove her unhappiness, I knew the importance of proceeding with caution.
As a family therapist I've been well-educated about inappropriate expressions of intimacy between fathers and daughters, primarily by clients whose lives have been torn apart by sexual abuse.
I'm also aware of how easily care and closeness can be sexualized, especially by men who find the emotional field foreign territory and who mistake any expression of affection for sexual ivitation. How much easier it was to hold and comfort her when she was two or three or even seven. But now her body, our society and my manhood all seemed to conspire against my comforting my daughter. How could I console her while still respecting the necessary boundaries between a father and a teenage daughter? I (5)settled for offering her a back rub. She consented.
I gently massaged her bony back and knotted shoulders as I apologized for my recent absence. I explained that I had just returned from the international back-rubbing finals, where I had placed fourth. I assured her that it's hard to beat the back rub of a concerned father, especially if he's a world-class back-rubbing concerned father. I told her all about the contest and the other contestants as my hands and fingers sought to loosen tightened muscles and unlock the tensions in her young life.
I told her about the shrunken antique Asian man sho had placed third in the contest.
After studying acupuncture and acupressure his entire life, he could focus all his energy into his fingers, elevating back rubbing to an art. "He poked and prodded with prestidigitatious precision," I explained, showing my daughter a sample of what I'd learned from the old man. She groaned, though I wasn't sure whether in response to my alliteration or my touch. Then I told her about the woman who had placed second. She was from Turkey and since her childhood had practiced the art of belly dancing, so she could make muscles move and ripple in fluid motion. With her back rub, her fingers awakened in tired muscles and weary bodies an urge to vibrate and quiver and dance. "She let her fingers do the walking and the muscles tagged along," I said, demonstrating.
"That's weird," (6) emanated, faintly from a face muffled by a pillow. Was it my one-liner or my touch?
Then I just rubbed my daughter's back and we settled into silence. After a time she asked, "So who got first place?"
"You'd never believe it!" I said. "It was a baby!"
(1) bout: a short period of great activity; a short period during which there is a lot of a particular thing, usually sth unpleasant / an attack or period of illness
(2) exude: if you exude a particular feeling or quality, or it exudes from you, people can easily see that you have it / if sth exudes a liquid or smell, or a liquid or smell exudes from somewhere, the liquid, etc. comes out slowly
(3) muffle: to make a sound quieter or less clear / to wrap or cover sb/sth in order to keep them/it warm
(4) huddle: to gather closely together, usually because of cold or fear / to hold your arms and legs close to your body, usually because of cold or fear
(5) settle for: to accept sth that is not exatly what you want but is the best that is available
(6) emanate: to produce or show sth
Thoughts:
Many useful expressions, but not much touched...
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
[Chicken Soup for the soul] The Animal School
Once upon a time, the animals decided they must do something heroic to meet the problems of "a new world." So they organized a school.
They adopted an activity curriculum consisting of running, climbing, swimming and flying. To make it easier to administer the curriculum, all the animals took all the subjects.
The duck was excellent in swimming, in fact better than his instructor, but he made only passing grades in flying and was very poor in running. Since he was slow in running, he had to stay after school and also drop swimming in order to practice running. This was kept up until his webbed feet were badly worn and he was only average in swimming. But average was acceptable in school, so nobody worried about that except the duck.
The rabbit started at the top of the class in running, but had a nervous breakdown because of so much make-up work in swimming.
The quirrel was excellent in climbing until he developed frustration in the flying class where his teacher made him start from the groud up instead of from the treetop down. He also developed a "charlie horse" from overexertion and then got a C in climbing and a D in running.
The eagle was a problem child and was disciplined severely. In the climbing class he beat all the others to the top of the tree, but insisted on using his own way to get there.
At the end of the year, an abnormal eel that could swim exceedingly well, and also run, climb and fly a little, had the highest average and was valedictorian.
The prairie dogs stayed out of school and fought the tax levy because the administration would not add digging and burrowing to the curriculum. They apprenticed their children to a badger and later joined the groundhogs and gophers to start a successful private school.
Does this fable have a moral?
~ George H. Reavis
* nervous breakdown: 신경쇠약
** Charley horse: a popular North American colloquial term for painful spasms or cramps in the leg muscles.
Thoughts:
What an interesting fable! There are relatively many useful expressions as well :)
They adopted an activity curriculum consisting of running, climbing, swimming and flying. To make it easier to administer the curriculum, all the animals took all the subjects.
The duck was excellent in swimming, in fact better than his instructor, but he made only passing grades in flying and was very poor in running. Since he was slow in running, he had to stay after school and also drop swimming in order to practice running. This was kept up until his webbed feet were badly worn and he was only average in swimming. But average was acceptable in school, so nobody worried about that except the duck.
The rabbit started at the top of the class in running, but had a nervous breakdown because of so much make-up work in swimming.
The quirrel was excellent in climbing until he developed frustration in the flying class where his teacher made him start from the groud up instead of from the treetop down. He also developed a "charlie horse" from overexertion and then got a C in climbing and a D in running.
The eagle was a problem child and was disciplined severely. In the climbing class he beat all the others to the top of the tree, but insisted on using his own way to get there.
At the end of the year, an abnormal eel that could swim exceedingly well, and also run, climb and fly a little, had the highest average and was valedictorian.
The prairie dogs stayed out of school and fought the tax levy because the administration would not add digging and burrowing to the curriculum. They apprenticed their children to a badger and later joined the groundhogs and gophers to start a successful private school.
Does this fable have a moral?
~ George H. Reavis
* nervous breakdown: 신경쇠약
** Charley horse: a popular North American colloquial term for painful spasms or cramps in the leg muscles.
Thoughts:
What an interesting fable! There are relatively many useful expressions as well :)
Monday, April 25, 2011
[Chicken Soup for the Soul] Did the Earth Move for You?
Eleven-year-old Angela was stricken with a debilitating disease involving her nervous system. She was unable to walk and her movement was restricted in other ways as well. The doctors did not hold out much hope of her ever recovering from this illness. They predicted she'd spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair. They said that few, if any, were able to come back to normal after contracting this disease. The little girl was undaunted. There, lying in her hospital bed, she would vow to anyone who'd listen that she was definitely going to be walking again someday.
She was transferred to a specialized rehabilitation hospital in the San Francisco Bay area. Whatever therapies could be applied to her case were used. The therapists were charmed by her undefeatable spirit. They taught her about imaging - about seeing herself walking. If it would do nothing else, it would at least give her hope and something positive to do in the long waking hours in her bed. Angela would work as hard as possible in physical therapy, in whirlpools and in exercise sessions. But she worked just as hard lying there faithfully doing her imaging, visualizing herself moving, moving, moving!
One day, as she was straining with all her might to imagine her legs moving again, it seemed as though a miracle happened: The bed moved! It began to move around the room! She screamed out, "Look what I'm doing! Look! Look! I can do it! I moved, I moved!"
Of course, at this moment everyone else in the hospital was creaming, too, and running for cover. People were screaming, equipment was falling and glass was breaking. You see, it was the recent San Francisco earthquake. But don't tell that to Angela. She's convinced that she did it. And now only a few years later, she's back in school. On her own two legs. No crutches, no wheelchair. You see, anyone who can shake the earth between San Francisco and Oakland can conquer a piddling little disease, can't they?
Thoughts:
I guessed that this story would be related to a miracle. A little girl who contracted a debilitating disease finally becomes able to walk again. She didn't give up any hopes and faithfully held out hope to herself. Good.
However, what makes me feel miserable is the author's saying, "Don't tell that to Angela." I know this could be justified with a good intent, but still makes me feel like... Make her the only one who does not know the fact that everyone knows.
Placebo Effect or Lie?
She was transferred to a specialized rehabilitation hospital in the San Francisco Bay area. Whatever therapies could be applied to her case were used. The therapists were charmed by her undefeatable spirit. They taught her about imaging - about seeing herself walking. If it would do nothing else, it would at least give her hope and something positive to do in the long waking hours in her bed. Angela would work as hard as possible in physical therapy, in whirlpools and in exercise sessions. But she worked just as hard lying there faithfully doing her imaging, visualizing herself moving, moving, moving!
One day, as she was straining with all her might to imagine her legs moving again, it seemed as though a miracle happened: The bed moved! It began to move around the room! She screamed out, "Look what I'm doing! Look! Look! I can do it! I moved, I moved!"
Of course, at this moment everyone else in the hospital was creaming, too, and running for cover. People were screaming, equipment was falling and glass was breaking. You see, it was the recent San Francisco earthquake. But don't tell that to Angela. She's convinced that she did it. And now only a few years later, she's back in school. On her own two legs. No crutches, no wheelchair. You see, anyone who can shake the earth between San Francisco and Oakland can conquer a piddling little disease, can't they?
Thoughts:
I guessed that this story would be related to a miracle. A little girl who contracted a debilitating disease finally becomes able to walk again. She didn't give up any hopes and faithfully held out hope to herself. Good.
However, what makes me feel miserable is the author's saying, "Don't tell that to Angela." I know this could be justified with a good intent, but still makes me feel like... Make her the only one who does not know the fact that everyone knows.
Placebo Effect or Lie?
Sunday, April 24, 2011
[Chicken Soup for the Soul] We Learn by Doing
Not many years ago I began to play the cello. Most people would say that what I am doing is "learning to play" the cello. But these words carry into our minds the strange idea that there exists two very different processes: (1) learning to play the cello; and (2) playing the cello. They imply that I will do the first until I have completed it, at which point I will stop the first process and begin the second. In short, I will go on "learning to play" until I have "learned to play" and then I will begin to play. Of course, this is nonsense. There are not two processes, but one. We learn to do something by doing it. There is no other way.
~ John Holt
Just a little thought:
I. failed. to. live. today. again. Whenever people ask me "What have you been doing lately?," my response was always same. "I'm studying for the exam ^^" Nonsense. You are not doing anything right now. Less stressed out, Less drained of energy. Feel like doing nothing at all now.
We can learn to do something by actually doing it. But how about you? Just staring at those questions.. even afraid of giving a glance to the papers, sigh, sigh, sigh...
I totally agree with someone's saying that laziness also follows the law of inertia / diligence definitely follows the law of inertia! Shake yourself out of delusion that you will be living a successful life without efforts! Stop digging a hole for yourself. Please get out of the hole! Hate STATUS QUO... "There is often something just slightly, deliciously off." Then comes my decision, "Let's do it from tomorrow..."
Wouldn't it be swell?? if you start it RIGHT NOW??
~ John Holt
Just a little thought:
I. failed. to. live. today. again. Whenever people ask me "What have you been doing lately?," my response was always same. "I'm studying for the exam ^^" Nonsense. You are not doing anything right now. Less stressed out, Less drained of energy. Feel like doing nothing at all now.
We can learn to do something by actually doing it. But how about you? Just staring at those questions.. even afraid of giving a glance to the papers, sigh, sigh, sigh...
I totally agree with someone's saying that laziness also follows the law of inertia / diligence definitely follows the law of inertia! Shake yourself out of delusion that you will be living a successful life without efforts! Stop digging a hole for yourself. Please get out of the hole! Hate STATUS QUO... "There is often something just slightly, deliciously off." Then comes my decision, "Let's do it from tomorrow..."
Wouldn't it be swell?? if you start it RIGHT NOW??
Friday, April 22, 2011
[Chicken Soup for the Soul] Love: The One Creative Force
Spread love everywhere you go: first of all in your own house. Give love to your children, to your wife or husband, to a next-door neighbor.... Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God's kindness; kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile, kindness in your warm greeting. ~Mother Teresa
A college professor had his sociology class go into the Baltimore slums to get case histories of 200 young boys. They were asked to write an evaluation of each boy's future. In every case the students wrote, :He hasn't got a chance." Twenty-five years later another sociology professor came across the earlier study. He had his students follow up on the project to see what had happened to these boys. With the exception of twenty boys who had moved away or died, the students learned that 176 of the remaining 180 had achieved more than ordinary success as lawyers, doctors, and businessmen.
The professor was astounded and decided to pursue the matter further. Fortunately, all the men were in the area and he was able to ask each one, "How do you account for your success?" In each case the reply came with feeling, "There was a teacher."
The teacher was still alive, so he sought her out and asked the old but still alert lady what magic formula she had used to pull these boys out of the slums into successful achievement.
The teacher's eyes sparkled and her lips broke into a gentle smile. "It's really very simple," she said. "I loved those boys."
~ Eric Butterworth
Two thoughts on this short story:
1. How people measure success
Lawyers, doctors, businessmen. What comes to your mind when you think about these kinds of jobs? I would say, "Money!"
When I first read this sentence, I found myself reflectively feel unpleasant just because it has a certain biased standard. Why do people see being a lawyer as living a successful life?
Of course, it does not say that those who make less money than so called the upper class cannot be considered successful, but what makes me unpleasant is the reality where most people measure success by how much money they make.
Oh, great. Some people might argue that lawyers are able to HELP more people than others. I would ask them, "Then, how many lawyers in the world are working from the motivation to help others? How many people who really need that help recieve help from them?"
Probably, I am being too senstive towards M.O.N.E.Y. I feel even bored when my friends praise some people who have a fortune. Money does not guarantee a successful life.
I hope I will be able not to beg for money, already holding money.
2. How I love people
The answer of the teacher was literally simple. "I loved those boys." Great, but what people wonder was the way to love! I heard somone saying love is not a mere feeling. I agree. Love can be the one creative force... but it asks for time. Love can be time-consuming sometimes.
Why am I so pessimistic tonight? ;p
A college professor had his sociology class go into the Baltimore slums to get case histories of 200 young boys. They were asked to write an evaluation of each boy's future. In every case the students wrote, :He hasn't got a chance." Twenty-five years later another sociology professor came across the earlier study. He had his students follow up on the project to see what had happened to these boys. With the exception of twenty boys who had moved away or died, the students learned that 176 of the remaining 180 had achieved more than ordinary success as lawyers, doctors, and businessmen.
The professor was astounded and decided to pursue the matter further. Fortunately, all the men were in the area and he was able to ask each one, "How do you account for your success?" In each case the reply came with feeling, "There was a teacher."
The teacher was still alive, so he sought her out and asked the old but still alert lady what magic formula she had used to pull these boys out of the slums into successful achievement.
The teacher's eyes sparkled and her lips broke into a gentle smile. "It's really very simple," she said. "I loved those boys."
~ Eric Butterworth
Two thoughts on this short story:
1. How people measure success
Lawyers, doctors, businessmen. What comes to your mind when you think about these kinds of jobs? I would say, "Money!"
When I first read this sentence, I found myself reflectively feel unpleasant just because it has a certain biased standard. Why do people see being a lawyer as living a successful life?
Of course, it does not say that those who make less money than so called the upper class cannot be considered successful, but what makes me unpleasant is the reality where most people measure success by how much money they make.
Oh, great. Some people might argue that lawyers are able to HELP more people than others. I would ask them, "Then, how many lawyers in the world are working from the motivation to help others? How many people who really need that help recieve help from them?"
Probably, I am being too senstive towards M.O.N.E.Y. I feel even bored when my friends praise some people who have a fortune. Money does not guarantee a successful life.
I hope I will be able not to beg for money, already holding money.
2. How I love people
The answer of the teacher was literally simple. "I loved those boys." Great, but what people wonder was the way to love! I heard somone saying love is not a mere feeling. I agree. Love can be the one creative force... but it asks for time. Love can be time-consuming sometimes.
Why am I so pessimistic tonight? ;p
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