Just a lazy Easter Sunday

Dear readership,  I ask that you would respect my right as an author to write in different voices for different purposes.  The following post is copied from my literacy blog.  In that blog, I aim for a slightly more sober and straightforward style.  For crying out loud, it is a literacy blog.  I can't look like I'm all from Queensland or nuthin' can I, Ashley James?

           I woke up this morning at about 6:30 and checked my Facebook and my email. Nothing terribly urgent to attend to, so I quickly looked over my blogs.　At least I've set myself some pretty achievable goals. No Beethoven's 9th in 30 days for me. Just read a couple of books and keep up with this blogging thing. So that's what I did. I have followed through, I guess, on most of the day's reading goals.
          I put on a new pair of pants, and headed off to see the real world of information- a couple of libraries, a Catholic church because it's Easter, a used bookstore and now a media cafe. That's where I'm blogging from- one of my old haunts. I thought I'd put in a plug for them because they were a lifeline for me back in the day when I didn't have my own computer in Japan. It's a really cool place. You can play pool, read comics and magazines or use a computer in a private booth, all for about 400 yen an hour.*
          Anyway, at the International center, I read the first chapter of Real Happiness and the Cat in the Hat. I then read about 70 pages of the Narnia chronicles: it was much as I remembered it, a charming, symbol laden allegory that remains faintly quaint and somehow reminds me of a fantasy version of the Famous Five for would be converts. It's still kind of a book of apologetics. Lewis trots out many of the same arguments he uses in Mere Christianity, if you've ever read that. "Don't they teach anyone any logic in school, anymore," Lewis asks the reader, as though the existence of Narnia is common sense. It must be true because it seems just a bit, well, impossible, but in a good way. Sometimes, he strikes me as a better fantasist than a defender of his faith, which I share, incidentally, in my own fashion. I also checked out the kids books on display, and flicked through some Naruto, too. I was so happy to see Scott McCloud's wonderful Making Comics back on the shelf. I've only read in entirety his first volume, Understanding Comics. I'll start this other one from scratch. Scott's simply an amazing artist and visionary. I find his writing both profoundly thought provoking in what he has to say about the nature of that media, and, just, well, entertaining. Perfect for an Easter Monday. Someone must have recently donated a copy of the Windup Girl, so I kept that one for me. What else did I borrow? Oh yeah, Ed Emberley's drawing book. I'll add a link and talk about Ed in a later post. Thank you very much. I'll have those please.
           Then, I found my bicycle I( left it there late last week because of the rain) and headed off to the Aichi library. I got one of Richard Dawkins favorite SF books out, a book of poems by Pablo Neruda, a self help book that Cory Doctorow likes and some old English fairy tales. Then I went off to Church. I can read anything I want, and still go to Church, make the sign of the cross, throw out a few hail marys, retire to the most private part of the Church and pray real prayers. At least, I think they're real prayers. I know I really prayed them, at least grant me that. BTW: You want to read some theology, read this. It's written by a mathematician. If you know your Kierkegaard (spell checker?) as well as I do (not very well) you'll understand.
*COFFEE, SODA AND LOTS OF OTHER DRINKS ARE FREE. 

UNIQUE TO THIS BLOG AND ITS READERS
Factoid or the beginning of a poem* the beaver in cslewis drinks beer,

PS:  I like CS Lewis as a writer and as a man.  He does drink beer, and so does the beaver in his book,

PPS:  I'm sorry if I'm coming across as overly apologetic.  Please forgive me, I don't mean to.

PPPS: So that's that then, Good Friday with Aimee Mann and hanami.  Easter Saturday with inner voices and Ashley James and Easter Sunday with libraries, comics, media cafes and church.  I hope everyone out there had a great Easter.

30 day Challenges

A commitment to my readers
Here are some of the smaller things I will do as part of my challenges
1. I will listen to Thich Nhat Hanh's "The Present Moment"
2. I will read Real Happiness by Sharon Salzberg and follow her advice
3. I will reread "Cultivating Compassion" or "The Joy of Living"
4. I will have a look at "Let Go" by Martine Bachelor
5. I will read something by a Jesuit Priest.
6. I will keep reading children's literature
7. I will try and exercise more
8. If I have time, I will read some Rohinton Mistry
9. I will blog on these things
 at some stage within the next 40 days.

What are you guys going to do?

UNIQ: Diary on Easter Saturday: Gratitude list

This piece, begins with a gratitude list, and becomes a kind of philosophical argument.  My name is Grant Higham.  Like me on Facebook and you can tell me if you want to print this or use parts of it.  It's kind of intellectual property.  PS:  Andy, thanks for the chat, man.  It was fun.  If anyone already has my email and you can think of ways you want to use this, that's cool.  Drop me a line.

Dear diary,

Life is full of challenges.  One of the hardest challenges is just to go on and continue hoping that life can be as full of promise that it once seemed to be.  I am in my thirties now and here are the things I see that I have done with my life so far. 
I have been born
I have had a mother and a father
I have had a brother and two sisters
I have had nightmares and sleeplessness
I have had so many dreams
I have seen the sun and felt the rain
I have walked, run, laughed and cried in the rain
I have heard water on an old tin roof.
I have tasted baby food and seven course meals
I have danced, sang and played the shamisen
I have solved maths problems and won a maths competition
I have listened to music and watched other peoples movies
I have felt friendlessness and isolation
I have been camping with a friend
I have seen the ocean with my family
I have seen a dead 3m tiger shark wash up onto the shore
I have had two cats and five dogs
I have taken care of one animal
I have had several girlfriends
I have had one wife
I have been deeply distressed and cried a lot of tears
I have cried for other people
I have been in some very dark places
I have been to four foreign countries
I have lived overseas for seven years
I have studied two foreign languages
I have read a lot of books
I have started a book
I have read Shakespeare
I have written a play
I have been in a play
I have started a screenplay
I have started two blogs
I have been baptised in a protestan church
I have made a confession
I have made an open confession
I have prayed on behalf of the human race
I have been to a zen temple, a Tibetan monastery
I have sat in a Sufi circle
I have attended a Russian Orthodox Easter vigil
I have prayed the Lord's prayer in a Catholic Church
I have been slain in the spirit and "tried" to speak in tongues
I have had a prophecy spoken about me
I have experienced some really wierd things
I have read the new Atheism
I have read Vonneguts version of humanism
I have envisioned my own charity
I have shaken a homeless man's hand
I have helped a friend with feelings of shame
I have been to hanami and hanabi
I have tried to teach myself swimming
I have swum with a Special Needs class.
I have had a wedding
I have been to my brother and sisters and cousins wedding
I have attended my grandfather's funeral
I have stayed with an aunt
Of course, I have also had regrets

But who who or what if anything
has dreamt this little man's life

Was it all just a part of Life and it's many processes.
If so, I thank Life in all its wonder for my own

Was it part of the Spaghetti Monster's grand idea
If so, I'll thank it for the pasta

Was it as the result of old unused up karma
 If so, I must have done a few things right

Was it just a waking dream
 If so, I am glad I am still living this one

Was it all part of God's plan
If so, I thank my creator and ask for his help

I believe in beliefs
At least allow me that

I believe that beliefs exist
That's a belief right there

Or maybe I only believe that I believe in beliefs
When I really believe in something else

Ah but then there's that other kind of belief
The really bad one

The one that's called commitment,
faith and trust

Believing in something and acting
as if you believe in your beliefs

Can anyone see anything wrong with that?

Ah, but then there's dogma and tradition
Surely some dogmas and traditions are fine

What about the tradition of giving your child a name
Who would dispose of that?

What about the dogma that dogs are creatures
You're not a creationist are you

Actually, I'M not you can be if you want
I do believe that scientists should set the science curriculum

Some of those arguments are pretty complicated
I do believe that there must be many, many, many
creationists out there, who are in theory and perhaps practice,
impediments to the teaching of one stream of science
an important one at that, one which has increible explanatory
power for something as important as life and
that research that comes from that field of study is
integral to helping us improve life in all its conditions.

So I guess I don't really believe in that kind of creationism

But I do believe in some of those creationists.
I believe that they are human and they make mistakes
and have the capacity to be wrong,
but I also believe that many of those same creationists,
or people have lived much, much, much better lives than me

They must have because my own life hasn't been that great.
I have got a lot of stuff wrong and I have made many mistakes
I have had a lot of regrets, I guess.

Do I share the same dogmas as Buddhists, Hindus, Jewish people,
Muslims, Zoroastrians, witches, pagans, pantheists, panentheists,
agnostics, atheists, skeptics, humanists, couldn't give a shit-ists,
it's-not-that-importantists, scientists, mathematicians, artists, dreamers
dancers, singers, actors, film makers, photographers, cooks and cleaners.

I don't bloody know.  I probably believe in some of what they believe
if they believe, in family, faith, hope, love, charity, peace, kindness,
dogs and people, and if they believe in my brother, I guess, for eaxample
We have stuff in common.

It's Easter Saturday.  I believe in God, I believe in the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost,
actually.  For some people they say that's about the same as believing in the Spaghetti monster
or some such nonsense.  What's he done for you lately apart from the pasta.  I will read anything,
I will hear any argument, I will believe in your right to have your own beliefs.

But tomorrow's Easter Sunday, and I want to go to Church.

Personally, I would not say that I am a Buddhist, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Jew (more reservations about that one actually), an agnostic or an atheist.  I think I believe in trying to be a better Christian.
I think I believe in trying to be a better humanist.  I think I believe in trying to be a better creationist.
I think I believe in trying to be a better evolutionist.

I am a Christian.  So, what colour are you?  Who cares?  Religion is just like skin colour to me, except one is freely chosen.  It's not something I really care about.  Like gay marriage actually.  I have no opinion.  Everyone else can care about it, so why do I have to?  I have lived with gays and lesbian people just like I have lived with Koreans and Japanese people.  I can say those things are true.  I have been to their clubs.  I have actually been secretly in love with a lesbian best friend, when I was 21.  I have even, here's one for all you Louis CK fans, I have even kissed a man.  One man who was a stranger.  But, I've never been in love with a man.  I wonder what that's like.  Oh, I could just ask a woman somewhere.  No, but I wonder if its the same being a man being in love with a man.  I wonder if that's the same as being a woman who is in love with a woman.  I'll wonder stuff like that sometimes, but I don't really care.  It's just not my thing.  Hey, Louis, I even believe in good misanthropists, you know.  I believe in you guys, too. I believe in Nick, too. I really do believe in those two guys- but they aren't gay, not that there's anything wrong with it.  Other people I have to try a little harder with.  So what, who cares?  It's all grist for the mill as Ram Dass used to say.

I believe that Jesus Christ, died and rose again, and no-one else has really done that in exactly that same way, or in any way close to it in real life on Planet Earth with real witnesses.  And I believe that on the third day, in some mysterious way, that I can't understand, he rose from the dead and later he went into heaven.  Where he kind of "sits" in some weird way that I don't think anyone down here on earth can really understand, although a very saintly man, or woman, somewhere, might.  Maybe, someone else knows and they're not even saints.  Maybe they just know.  Maybe only a child somewhere knows the answer.  All I know is that I don't know.  Here's a kicker, maybe at least one intellectually handicapped child somewhere actually knows the answer to that question and I am right and you are wrong.  On this one thing.   It's possible, but you would say, highly unlikely.  Who cares?  I have my own weird set of beliefs that are uniquely my own and pretty hard to juggle.

Everyone else does not have to do that.  They would probably go insane.  I believe in the right of my little sister, and my mother, and my relatives to believe in whatever they want and to not have to justify everything they think.  Ben Neale, for example, is free, in my book to believe whatever he wants.  Because he is a much better man than me.  I want to be like Mike.  Le Bron James, not so much.  The guys just a basketball player. But I want to be a better person, as well, as being a Christian.  I have a few dogmas, but not that many.  Let's just all try to get along.  I want to be as good a person as Michael, Luke, Ben, Amigo, Michael Miller in Japan, Tom, whoever, just as good a person as some other people that might or might not be better people than me in lots of ways.  I want to be a little bit as good as some of the best skeptics and atheists we have out there.  The same goes for the best Christians we have out there.  And I willl choose to try to be at least a little bit as good as the Dalai Lama, although I think more of Thich Nhat Hahn, who smiles all the time.  He's my smiling coach,actually.  That's true.  I'm just not a very good student.  Sorry, Thay.  Sharon Salzberg is my kindness coach, and fuck it, Jesus can be my CEO.  Because I believe in Him.  I believe He died to help me.

For all you atheists out there.  Watch a movie called Shooting Dogs about Rwanda.  Watch it carefully, and think about your own lives.  We should all try to be a bit like that guy.  Just a bit.

PS: Don't really care much about gay marriage.  Everyone else seems to.  I get LOTS of stuff about gay marriage on Facebook.  That's okay.  Keep it up.  Some of it is, coming, with, a, bit, too, much, regularity...  But I like the one that said "So what if people choose to be gay, some people choose to be arseholes and they can get married."

Oh yeah, did I tell you.  I reserve the right to make mistakes so I don't edit a lot.  It's just a blog, man.

Good Friday with Aimee Mann

I might edit this later, and I will also be posting it on my other blog.  Tonight I met an atheist.  For me. that's fine.  I like the guy and we are in agreement.  We can't know everything but we can at least be fairly sure we are down here on Planet Earth.  Lets try and make it the best of all possible worlds, or at least as good as it can be.  For my friends Andy, for my reader, and my friend M n M.  In the spirit of Johnny Cash, otherwise known as JC, I present

INTERLUDE:  Good Friday with Aimee Mann: In the Spirit of Johnny Cash.

 

I wrote in an earlier post how I feel like I have lived a life of quiet anonymity.  In “Walden”, Henry David Thoreau writes about how he went to the woods because he wanted to live deliberately.  He wanted to find seclusion from the lives of “quiet desperation” that he saw in the surrounding rural communities.  I, too, often want to find some escape from this modern, lonely, chaotic urban lifestyle and society.  I just got off Skype with my brother and told him how I felt that, for a lot of people, the modern apartment has become a kind of sanctuary.  For me, that’s also true.  I mean I have all of my stuff here, and I am free from the prying eyes of others.  But sometimes I don’t want to be.  Sometimes I want my society, and my community and my neighbours to care about me, even to nurture me.  Sometimes my apartment feels more like a prison.  When I take my dog with me to the park, I always tell him, “Hey Sera, do you want to go and see the world for a bit.”  People often look at my dog and feel free to pass comment on how cute he is.  “Kawaii!” they say, or “So Cute!”  I always think, I know but how come you guys can’t just say “Konichiwa” or “Hello” or “Good afternoon” to me?  I mean, I can say something back, you know?  My dog can’t.  He is more or less oblivious to your presence as you are oblivious to mine.  I told my brother that I feel like I am living in a Facebook world where a lot of people might as well be the Man without a Face.  In this world where people prefer email and texting to phone conversations I feel like society has voluntarily cut off it’s own tongue.  So many of us now are keyboard warriors, people whose fingers do the talking as they type out yet another text to people they consider friends.  When I feel like that, I often turn on my Ipad and listen to a bit of Aimee Mann. 

              For those who don’t know her, I think Aimee’s music is the most eloquent expression of what it means to live in modern urban society.  A storyteller, she tells the ordinary stories about heartbreak, loneliness and pain lived by so many in modern suburban communities.  If you have forgotten the name perhaps you are more familiar with Magnolia, that modern cinematic classic directed by the masterful Paul Thomas Anderson.  So right now, I’ll just go and listen to the soundtrack of that film which was largely inspired by his listening to Aimee’s music.  (Gets up and takes out Blackalicious and puts on the Magnolia soundtrack).  Ah… that’s it.  My life. “One is the loneliest number you can ever do.  Two can be as bad as one , it’s the loneliest number since the number one.”  So true.  So real.  So honest in a world full of @#%&*! smilers.  Thanks Aimee.  You make me feel less alone.  As I write this I think back to yesterday and what it was like to meet another reader.  I was at the library at the Nagoya International Centre, when this young Spanish guy came up to me and asked me what I was writing.  I was parked in the children’s literature section, and was reading some Dr Seuss and scribbling furiously in my notebook. 

“What are you doing?” he asked me, “Are you writing poetry.”  “

“No,” I said, “I’m working on my literacy blog but I really want to write a book”
And so we talked.  I showed him where the Bukowskis were because he was into them.  I told him that he had to read “Slaughterhouse Five” by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.  On the way to the shelf, I also pointed out a little known but truly amazing novel called “This Thing of Darkness” and recommended he read Milan Kundera, who was once my favorite writer.  At the counter, he asked me what poetry I had read.  I know the names of a few of his poets but hadn’t read many except Pablo Neruda.  Downstairs, I had a smoke and we talked about Kafka and laughing in the dark, Celine and misanthropy, Fight Club and Nietzschke and how both were close to but not quite nihilism, money and the meaning of life and the difference between revolution and reform and between capitalism and democracy.  It was good to feel less alone.  But for the most part, in a world with so few voices to be heard, it’s Aimee’s I listen to the most.  Sometimes when it feels like I have no momentum, or I am feeling lost, I feel like I really am driving sideways.  Sometimes I do just feel like it’s not going to stop and I do wonder who will save me from this prison of the self.  That doesn’t feel like my fault.  I feel like that’s where we live now.  I feel like we are living in some kind of ghost town where all of the real people have left.  At least sometimes, I do.  I do.  I really do. 

I began writing this paragraph like this: “These are some of my favorite Aimee Mann songs with some of the lines that kill me.  Some of her lines will just break your heart.  I mean, all of her music isn’t like that, but there is a lot of honesty, truth and power in her music, at least to my mind. I will only pick one from each album. 

“Phoenix” from @#%&*! Smilers:

“I wanted to believe in you and maybe I believe it still but baby I’ve just had my fill.  You love me like a dollar bill.  You roll me up and trade me in.””

Then I started listening to the Forgotten Arm and “Beautiful” and “Videos” and “Little Bombs” on it. And I realized this can not be written that way.  Not when I love so much of this music.   But here’s a little taste of Aimee Mann at her finest from “It’s Not” on Lost in Space.  This is a truly beautiful song, haunting in its melodies and it’s lines that

“So here I I’m sitting in my car at the same old stop light.  I keep waiting for a change , but I don’t know what, so red turns into green, turning into yellow.  But I’m just frozen here on the same old spot…    So baby kiss me like a drug, like a respirator and let me fall into the dream of the astronaut where I get lost in space forever… and I believe it’s you who should make it better though its not.”

Then I looked through the rest of that albums playlist before…

So, I’m listening now to the songs on Bachelor #2, and I like all of them, I love How Am I Different?  Red Vines, and, Save me, and so many others.  I don’t know, I could just listen to all of this music forever.  I used to think they should listen to the Forgotten Arm in church, just to understand how a lot of the beauty in this world is connected to its pain.  Who are the people that need salvation?  Salvation from what?  Would you have me disown the notion that I should feel a little bit of pain while I’m down here on earth; because that’s what we call empathy.  Save me from all of the smiling, someone, please.  I’m writing this on Good Friday, this is my sanctuary in a way.  I love going to mass, you know.  Everyone else doesn’t have to but I do.  I like being in solidarity with the world’s poor and dispossessed and wondering at other peoples pains and struggles.  So I guess that makes me a bit of a disciple.  Hey, guys?  You think all of the people in Church are Christian?  You think there are no people outside the Church who are Christian?  That’s why the church finds itself ostracized and alone. 

But I will flick back further and listen to “Par for the Course” on I’m With Stupid, and listen to that tremendous crescendo of “I don’t even know you,  I don’t even know you, I don’t even know you, I don’t even know you ANYMORE “ or go back and listen to superball and feel it’s energy, feel how it makes me want to feel, to clap, to jump, to jive,  to laugh, to think that I’m a Superball, bouncing back and forth between this and that, but not one person can hurt me unless I choose not to push away all of the pain.  But why would you do that?  Why would you feel pain?  Because it’s a part of life and I want to be open and free.  Open with my feelings, free to feel the pain of myself and my world.  That’s just me. 

Then finally, I have a quick listen to “Mr Harris” on Whatever.  This story talks about a young woman and the relationship she begins with an older man who looks like Jimmy Stewart in his younger days. The chorus goes like this “And honestly it might be stupid to think that love is love but I do. And you’ve waited so long and I’ve waited long enough for you.”  It’s probably the inspiration for the relationship between Julianne Moore’s character and her older, dying husband, one of the most beautiful parts of that most beautiful movie, Magnolia.

So, it’s very difficult to say how much this music means to me.  I am me for listening to it.  It has made me, listening to these bittersweet stories and truths about the real world.  Hello? Where is everyone else living.  Why do we we feel the need to pretend to others and ourselves that everything is fine when some things are and some things are not?  C’mon guys, that just makes no sense.  I will be an open book, because I feel like it.  It’s who I want to be.  I respect that way of living in this world.  I will shed my tears.  To be honest, I don’t cry much.  People can’t see me when I write.  They don’t know who I am.  But if I never voice these things, they never will know me.  They just won’t.  Time to leave your hiding places and drop the act and bring out the real self from the closeted heart.  Oh yeah, you have to listen to “I Know There’s a Word for This.”  Has anyone ever explained so well what its like to feel pains that are indescribable.  There must be a word for how I feel, so I’ll look it up in the dictionary, find out what it is and I will try to avoid it.  And sometimes “saying uncle” is all we want to do to the pain inside of us.

I will pick my favorite song from Magnolia, though.  “Wise Up.”  C’mon, Grant, if you don’t wise up some parts of your pain will never stop.  I will turn my I pod off right now.  Well, at the end of this song, “I’ve Had It”,  because it’s so beautiful and I can’t just press stop.  I want to listen to it.  When they bury me, I want them to play all of these songs on an endless loop and say my son really loved that music.  Or my brother.  Or my husband.  I don’t who will be around when I say my goodbyes, Who does, but hopefully someone will be there.  And then play “Wise Up.”  Ah…  There it is.  Its not what you thought it would be like when you began it.  Now, you know its not going to stop, its not going to stop, its not going to stop, till you wise up.  See me now, mum, dad, Michael, Luke, Stacey, Helen, Satoko, my friends, even if you don’t call me, see me writing, listening to this music, typing.  Thinking.  Feeling.  Seeing.  Rewinding the tape inside my mind.  Seeing William H, and John C, and his love, and her father, and the old man on his death bed and his wife, Julianne, and the nurse, Philip Seymour, and that little boy and his pain, and even Tom as Frank, what a courageous performance, and I see frogs, and I see them falling out of the skies.  I see the rain, and the storms, and I see the rainbows, too, the hopes for broken dreams for broken people from broken places on a broken planet to all be mended and to be made well again. I listen to Aimee’s music because it makes me think of everything, of human lives lived everywhere.  I am in church, even now, because It’s with me everywhere and that’s what I choose to believe. Then, at the end, play this one song, Wise Up, one time for me and say, it’s stopped now, Grant, at least for a while.  Now, let’s see what happens next.  For now, I’m up and at it, off to see my world.  I hope it says hello.

 

Written on Good Friday, in memory of Jesus of Nazareth, a beautiful human being.  We can at least all try to agree with that, can’t we?

I know you are at peace.

PS: Save Me

 

A taste of my new blog.

          DEAR READERSHIP, it's about literacy.  If you are involved in teaching in any way, or know someone who is, pay attention to some of my ideas.  They might just work.

           I am currently involved in something called the "30 day challenge".   Wow!  Didn't mean to be.  I'd already been doing this thing anyway.  But here's the thing, I am not setting any specific day limits.  I don't really want to write the worst novel ever written within 30 days just so I can call myself a novellist.  In saying that, would that be such a bad thing to do?  No, it wouldn't.  And it would hardly be likely to be the worst novel ever written.  Logically, it couldn't be.  Not with everyone trying to take on the same challenges at the same time.  Actually, some pretty good books may come out of that process.  Anyone know how long it took Keruac to write, On the Road?  If I remember correctly, it was said to be about 14 days.  Famously, Truman Capote said, "That's not writing, that's typing", although perhaps with a touch greater eloquence. On the other hand, the novel "Slapstick" by one of my literary heroes took about...  I have no idea, but it reads like it was written by an eight year old in about eight days.  It really is that bad.  But it probably took the poor man forever.  He was probably just stuck in a rut and finding it difficult to recapture old glories.  The point I am leading to, in my own rambling, walk about, turn around and go back again kind of way is this:  I have been on this path since about early March.  I have a very specific set of goals I want to reach before I leave Japan.  Before I leave here, I want to have enough material that I could write a good book in another 30 days.  This blog is a bit of a forum for that.  Partly why I'm not afraid of split sentences, let alone split infinitives.  Heck, I'll even split a wo  rd.  I'm looking for my narrative voice, and I will do all manner of crazy things to find it, and I will type as quickly as I want, then press publish.

           So, in the spirit of all of that, I have set up my other website as a place where I can write about my teaching experiences in Japan and my ideas for teaching, in general.  Now, here is the challenge I set myself on the other page: to read 365 books in one year.  That's a lot of books, right?  Impossible.  You really will be the starving artist.  Well, I'm kind of cheating a bit.  Here's how, according to an excerpt from my other blog.

          "Well, I'm sort of taking it bit by bit.  I want to dedicate a lot of this site to literacy.  I have so many books, it's kind of crazy.  If and when I leave Japan I will have to do something with my old books.  The first thing I should do is read them.  When you are an inveterate book collector like me, you end up with so many books, many of which remain unread or unfinished.  I have a plan to document my efforts to read, and finish 1 book a day.  That doesn't mean a book everyday.  So I'll be doing a little cheating.  I might read 10 Dr Seuss books, and say, that's almost enough for a fortnight.  I might also go and get some old manga I've already read, flick through it and say,　I've read that one twice now.  Expect lots of children's literature on the list.  I will also consider stuff like the Book of Luke as a gospel to be one book.  If that's okay with everyone.  Well, no-one probably cares anyway, right?  Then I might be able to write about that endeavour as well in my main book... or something like that.  Where to start, elementary dear Watson.  I'm going to start with Sherlock Holmes.  And I know just the place, Book Off... I'll be right back..... (for the Redbacks if they'll let me play.)"

          After that, I wrote three lovely dedications to thew students I have been teaching over here in Japan.  I would love for some of my kids to be able to read, in English, everything I write,  so I picked three returnee students to write about mostly.  But I also want to get stuff translated into Japanese for all of my champs like Fumino, Ryosuke, Kensuke, Charles Ryo Otagawa, Ryota and their like.  Following that, I wrote my first "book" review, in the spirit of my very own Rule #1: It doesn't have to be a book.

DAY 1: Book(let) 1.  "Blazing Arrow" by Blackalicious
What by who? That's exactly what Jonah would say. Who the heck is Jonah? Jonah is the hero of Summer Heights High, a comedy series by Chris Lilley, an Australian comedian. Jonah is Polynesian by birth, loves break dancing, has a lot of problems at school and is struggling to read. How can we help the Jonahs of this world learn to read? Here's a novel idea. We could help them to read by thinking about what they do like. In Jonah's case, hip hop and break dancing. Blazing Arrow by Blackalicious is one of the finest examples there is of "positive" hip hop. I love this album to death. I think it's absolutely amazing.
Yeah, great, Grant- you like music, you like hip hop: What does that have to do with reading and literacy. Well, this is how you teach literacy. Teenagers like Jonah know all of the words to this music, so it's the best example they have of a book on tape! How about that, hey? That's right. So what we do is we copy the lyrics for them, in large print. And we have them read along as they sing. Here's another thing you don't know, miss! say the Jonahs of the world, you can't rap for sh#t. You ain't no good at breakin' neither. Sorry mate, you help me get better and I'll help you with your reading. This empowers people. Using preexisting knowledge, and GIFTS to connect with people so they can work safely towards correcting weaknesses.
So, I'm just going to choose one random song, "Make you feel that Way". Here are the lyrics of that wonderful gift to lyricists everywhere, The Gift of Gab.

"Make You Feel That Way" words and lyrics by Gift of Gab

[Chorus x15] Make you feel that way.
[Verse One] Up and early for the hope of a brand new day.

See a homie you ain't seen since back in the days.

Fresh haircut, fitted with a fat ass fade.

End of work, we chilling on a Saturday.

How you felt when you first heard the Daddy Kane

Rakim, KRS, hey I had that tape.

Cooling out with ol' girl on a fat ass date.

Find a hundred dollar bill, wow man that's great.

Get promoted at your job up to management.

Plot a long time finally your plan has made it.

Times I feel I wanna shout, man its real that way.

When I think of things that make you feel that way.
[Chorus x15] Make you feel that way.
[Verse Two] Christmas day when your mamma got your first bike.

Type of feeling when you went and won your first fight.

How your team felt winning championship games.

Celebrate in a huddle dancing in this rain.

Have a thought, see a shooting star cross your screen.

Put in hard work, finally you're living your dream.

Deaf man, get his hearing, now in come vibes.

Blind man, get his sight, see his first sunrise.

Dumb man, speaking out, now he's load and clear.

Birth of your child, smile so proud ya wear.

Going in your third eye for the styles ya hear.

Making music that'll bump for a thousand years.

Eating right feeling conscience like health is first.

Said a prayer that's sincere and you felt it work.

Times I feel I wanna shout, man it's real that way.

When I think of things that make you feel that way.

[Chorus x15] Make you feel that way
[Verse Three] All up in her vibe, something coming over me.

Summer days more likely that you notice breezes.

Winter days more likely that you notice heat.

When I'm warm it's more likely that you'll notice me.
In the dark it's more likely that you notice light.

In the light more likely that you notice night.

Hungry, more appreciation for that meal.

Dead broke more appreciation for that skrill.

A bad day'll make you really notice ones that's good.

And that'll make things a little better understood.

Times I feel I wanna shout, man it's real that way.

When I think of things that make you feel that way

Make you feel that way...

(Ya know its like ahh like the most greatest feeling you could ever feel you like just total elation. Sunny day, just that day. You know its just like you know just the most joyous feeling you could ever comprehend. You know, chilling with your family. You know just you know just really really feeling, feeling the moment, with the folks. Ya know really really really just chilling. It's love. It's love. It's love)

Points to consider: 1)The most important thing is that kids either are already familiar with the music, or they would be willing to learn it first. 2) Now some people would say that it couldn't work because the beat is too fast. So... change the beat. "Hey, Jonah, do you think you could beat the beat." Set that kind of challenge first. Now, how about this, lets slow the tempo down, like jazz. bam de de bam de de bam de de bam. Give them some Endtroducing by DJ Shadow to listen to first. 3) But, it's hip hop. So? They already listen to it, they already know the words. Just gently introduce them to some positive hip hop. PS: A lot of hip hop has a lot of positive messages. Including Eminem : ) Moreover, hip hop is essentially spoken word poetry, which is why I love it. Those guys are storytellers, man. 4) But it's not grammatical, or it includes mispronounced words. So? Draw two columns, the left would be headed HIP HOP and include words like ya or "wrong" expressions, the right would be called SCHOOL, and have grammatically and morphologically correct words and expressions. Explain the language is different, HIP HOP is about flow, school is about precision. Both are important. 5) Sir, you can't rap for sh#t. So, Jonah? You can't read. What's the difference. We're all good at different stuff. You teach me to rap and I'll teach you how to read. What do you think Jonah? Is that a deal. No sweat.

POSTSCRIPT: I made a promise to try to do this thing at least for a while. Now I'll go and read a bit, and just chill out for a while.　I have a very specific reading plan in mind. Expect Dr Seuss and Phonics and later Flowers for Algernon and literacy. As well as tomorrow's review. Teaching Like your Hair's on Fire by Rafe Esquith. Wonder what he'd say about my stuff.

RATING

Hip hop and music are underrated, undervalued and underused as source materials for teaching literacy.

 

So that's kind of why I'm writing two blogs now.  What I would ask from hungry readers, if there are any, is not to demand my blog appear with daily updates.  I kind of wanted to get it started, and have done so now.  Check in every few days, and make sure you've read some of the archives.  Anyway, thanks for being there, on the other side of the World Wide Web. 

 

Much love from Grant.

UNIQ: www.grantseraph11.wordpress.com is my other blog

I am trying to play around with social media.  Part of this is exposing myself to it as much as possible.  So I also started a new blog on Wordpress yesterday.  I like the layout, and I think its easier for people to post comments.  Check it out.  The address is Grantseraph11.wordpress.com

Let me know what you guys think.  At the moment, I'm doing both as interlinked but somewhat separate entities.  The focus is different.  This will be dedicated to my writing, and my concept novel.  The other will have more photos.  And more book reviews.  I may merge them later.

Heck, I've only been doing this blogging thing for a week. 

What I will do is indicate which entries are unique to this blog, through the symbol UNIQ.  Any writing I like on the other blog will be transferred to this one, except book reviews.  The other website will serve as an excellent place to read book reviews, I hope.  Thanks guys.

UNIQ: Good morning Vietnam: Dreams, families, the power of myth.

              If Robin Williams can say it why can't I?  At least I can dream of saying it.  I can definitely type it, because I just did.  I can do it again, too.  Look.  Good morning, Vietnam.  See I did it again.  I can imagine my dad reading this and thinking what's my crazy son going on about now.  Well, just this:  My dream is for my blog to reach a worldwide audience.  But I'm going to need your support. 

If you like my stuff or think of someone who might, please pass along a link to a friend.  As a writer what I would like to feel is that I'm reaching a growing audience.  It might just be me, but I think I write with a little bit of power.  Not a lot, just a little bit.  I believe in my gifts.  I can sit on my balcony, and see an old cardboard box that says "gift".  Now, I only have such a box because of the thoughtfulness and kindness of Helen and Ben Neale, who sent my lovely wife some flowers and chocolates all the way from Australia.  Just to thank her for supporting me during what are for me right now some pretty difficult times.  Now that's love, people, expressed in a very concrete way.  But this world full of stuff, and language, and labels, seems charged with meaning for me.  What was the gift?  Was it just the flowers, and the chocolates?  I mean, my wife loves flowers, and those flowers are for me,and my family, the most beautiful elements of our small apartment, and I love chocolate (I ate most of them, just to show a bit of solidarity with my brother Luke who once snuck into our fridge and ate the Mother's Day chocolates I bought).  But, getting back to my original point.  The real gifts Ben and Helen gave to us were Love, Thoughtfulness, Caring and Kindness.  So I ask myself, what are your gifts, Grant?  What are you trying to give back to this world?  What are my flowers?  My flowers, as I am trying to embody in my writing and the way I live my life generally, are small things like Hope, Resilience, Quiet Strength, Courage, Bravery, Fearlessness and Openness, with just a little bit of Creativty.  My greatest gift, what I want to give back to this world is this- a very real lesson in the power of Self Belief.  So I'm trying to write a book about my life, and about its meaning. 

Now those are some pretty big claims for any unpublished, aspiring writer to make.  But here's the thing you don't have to believe in me, I have to believe in me.  I don't have to believe in your dream, either.  But I made a choice a long time ago, that wherever you are, whatever you're trying to do, I will choose   to believe in your visions and your dreams.  Why not?  It just helps people, you know.  A little bit of support never hurt anyone.  So if you like what I'm writing, or just that I'm writing, or just that I believe that dreams are for all of us, not just Martin Luther King, Jr.  I believe this.  There is a hero inside of every single human heart.  There you are.  We're all Superheroes, Supermen and Superwomen. Our families, in essence, are all the Incredibles.  And we didn't even know it.  That's what I believe.  You know what I want?  I want to live a life a little less ordinary, and a lot better than the crap movie of the same title. 

Or maybe we're not heroes.  Maybe you don't want to be a hero.  Maybe you identify with someone or something else.  That's okay, too.  When we were growing up my family were regular church goers, but, I think it's safe to say, a pretty weird little unit anyway.  My sister Stacey grew up Goth, my brother Luke believes, as far as I can tell, in the human mind and the modern god of science, and I am a pretty weird kind of guy, who kind of believes in everything.  My little sister still goes to Church, though and I think that's great.  Our best friends growing up were called the Jutsums.  Bruce and Janine Jutsum were lovely people and like my own parents rgular members of the same church.  Like us, they had two sons and two daughters, who were very close to us in age.  But they always seemed to have it together, while our family sometimes looked like it was falling apart.  But we didn't.  And I'm very proud of that.  Everyone in our family is able to say they love each and every other member.  We can all sit around the Xmas table, and eat a nice dinner together, and play a game of cards or Carcasen or Cluedo, that usually ends in some kind of argument, Luke winning and everyone else being kind of pissed off.  But we'll do it again, because we're good at it.  That's who we are.  For me, growing up I always felt like our family was the Simpsons and our friends the Jutsums were a bit more like the Flanders- just more normal than us.  That was okay for me.  I believe in self-acceptance and, well, accepting other people for who they are or at least trying to.

So that's some of me, some of my stuff.  If you believe in these kinds of notions- showing people that you care, supporting people, accepting oneself and others, having dreams and visions, never giving up- if you believe in me because I choose to believe in you- show it.  Write a comment, or send a link, or just Like me on fricking Facebook for crying out loud.  Do something concrete just to show that you believe in  the right of ordinary people to aspire, to dream, to hope, to believe.

That's a challenge.  Because, you know what?  I'd do it for you.  I think?

UNIQ: The frustrations of modern social media.

This post will read more like a diary entry.  Don't expect it to be anything wonderful, clever or terribly insightful.  Don't expect too much and you might find at least a keeper in there somewhere.

Today is, I think, March 26th, Tuesday.  I think I'm a pretty smart guy.  One of my hobbies is playing shogi.  I like to say I'm the best shogi player in Australia, neither knowing whether that is actually true, or more to the point, has any meaning whatsoever.  It's like saying someone is the best Polish speaking ballet dancer in the Australian rugby league team.  Or wow that is the greenest kangaroo I've ever seen.  In other words, if those other entities do exist, there aren't too many of them.

But I like shogi.  Its a Japanese game that's a bit like chess.  Its an example of what are called unsolved games.  A simple example of a solved game is something like Tic tac toe or noughts and crosses or maru batsu or whatever you want to call it.  Even as a child it didn't take long to figure out that there must be a perfect strategy for tic tac toe, one which would result in never losing, and always capitalising on the other person's mistakes.  Unsolved games, in contrast, are games where no-one knows what the perfect response to any one move is.  To determine the best way to play a game, computers generate a list of the best possible moves in response to others, following through the various counter responses as far as computer logic permits.  Western chess is getting pretty close to being solved, as demonstrated by Garry Kasparov's loss to a computer program called Deep Blue.  For those unfamiliar with Kasparov, he has had the highest number of ranking points of any chess player at any time in history.  And he held those ranking points, and the position as the world champion for well over 10 years.  By any measure, he would be considered one of the greatest chess players of all time.  Yet, on those days, he was unable to beat the computer.  The most famous unsolved game is Go and shogi, Japanese chess, probably sits in between the two in terms of difficulty.  There are a couple of reasons why shogi is in some ways harder than chess.  The main one I think is this:  after capturing the other person's piece, it is able to be used against the opponent.  It's like capturing a rook and being able to place it on the board again, in any place, and at any time.  This means the board is never really simplified.  And I'm good at this thing.  I do mating problems at my coffee shop, as a hobby.  I play a pretty good game of shogi.

So what am I doing here?  Am I simply boasting?  No, I'm not.  I want to make a point.  If someone as logical and intelligent as me can't use a lot of new technology without experiencing frustration and in fact anger, a lot of people must feel the same. You should see me kicking the table, but not hard enough to hurt myself, or shouting at these machines or gently coaxing them to perform.  One day I'll tell you about how I broke the laminating machine on my last day of work, accidentally of course.  Importantly, no lasting damage was done.  My vice principle and the curriculum co-ordinator helped me get the job done, with me acting mainly in a supervisory capacity.  Basically, I had no idea what to do, so I watched these two wonderful men fix the machine.  They sacrificed their time and put all other duties on hold, just so I could remake  Mario Certificattes for my students Fu and Ayaka.  Oh, I just told you.

So what kind of difficulties do I experience with technology.  Let's just start with the websites I'm trying to use today.  So, I've strated this blog now, but who knows that it exists?  Who is reading it?  Not too many people given the lack of comments thus far (thanks friends and family :)  please let me know I'm not all on my own here with this thing-  just write some comments, please).  In the Internet world, generating traffic is the key to success.  Exposure is what its all about.  One suggested way of doing this is to link your blog to Google + or so I have read.  Yes, I can read.  I was trying to do this, as well as to get my photos up on my blog, and so far without any luck.  So, I thought, well, I'm trying to write about social media, about one technophobe's journey down the rabbit hole of the web- let's see what else is out there.  I've already been through this process once before with gmail and my other server.  It tends to end in disappointment.  I guess the other reason I want to start another blog is because I have a lot of projects I am interested in doing.  I would like to do something quasi heroic like read a book a day for literacy, and to publish on that topic as well.  Kind of an A J Jacobs thing, if you know who that is.  For those who don't he wrote one book called my year of living Jewishly, or something, and another about reading the Encyclopedia Brittainica over the course of a year.  It's not bad stuff but becomes a bit much, over time. 

In any case, next I tried to join Wordpress which comes highly recommended.  The first limitation comes when you want to give your blog a name.  A lot of the things I was interested in calling the blog were already taken.  Next, I have to make a password.  All of the Passwords I suggest are said to be too weak.  In another words, they don't have enough @#%&*! symbols, to steal a little bit of Aimee Mann.  The1y   ne5ed67   mo43e   or4   w8nt   mo59e  @#%&*! numbers.  See, those are the best passwords: the ones you can't remember. Oh I foRgOt, it'S alSO a GR8 ideA to have lots of random small and capital letters.  So then, I finally made a password,　something like ToyPoodle4 Eva, and I wrote my first entry.  Just generic stuff, about myself and why I'm writing the blog.  Then I pressed publish, and wala, away I was, I was actually doing this I HAD CHOSEN TO FLY! with Wordpress!  Except, I had a couple of small problems.  I had the blog, it was mine, I had rewritten my first entry, ALL RIGHT,... but I couldn't find it, sigh.  Oh, well. 

My actual page looks a bit like this

<        >        4         grantseraph11.wordpress.com/                          Yahoo!


grantseraph11                                              Smile! You're at the best
                                                                                                                                WordPress.com site ever


A Beautiful picture of a fcouple of fricking leaves


Not Found

Apologies, but no results were found.

etc...

Actually, the whole title of the Aimee Man album I am talking about is called @#%&*! Smilers
and I have tried to become one, I really have.  I even ended my first Wordpress entry with the ill chosen words, or maybe decent enough reminders to self and others to "Smile a little bit : )!"
After my initial failure, I wrote another entry, a longer one, about half a page.  That didn't turn up either.  So I switched from my Ipad to my Desktop and tried to log in to my new Wordpress account.  I couldn't remember my password.  Actually, I think I remember it perfectly, but how on earth can anyone verify that.  It must be close but what with the symbols (1), the capitals(3) and the numbers(1), I must have got something wrong.  I think they are trying to protect my account from being hacked into.  Well, what would a hacker do with it? Probably read it, maybe, hopefully.  My pass word is zxcvbnm1, there you go, that's one of the weakest ones on the net, please break in and read my thoughts, quickly, before I change the password. 

So then, I tried to reset my password.  I received an email telling me "Someone recently requested that the password be reset for grant seraph11 (Uh, I 'fess up, man.  That would have been me, actually.  Yes, I did that.  I'm sorry.  I won't do it again: but what happened to the smiling: )  ?)  Anyway, I'm glad I'm onto that one now.  So all I have to do is "click this button"  The blue one, that says Reset Password.  Click.  Done it.  A new screen comes up.  I have either Lost my Password or am Unable to Reset it.  I might read the guide to resetting password because I can click on that now.  So let's try that.  Click.Wow, now I have entered the

Support page section on Passwords.  I think I've lost mine, so let's click Lost Password.  Click.  Good, now I've got two options 1) Visit the Lost Password page or 2) Get New Password.   Let's try both.  Behind door number one.  I'm back to the old page, and I can read the guide again.  Bugger it, Let's just go the box that says

Username or Email
................................................................................
                                                 Get new password.

Allright, let's do that.  I will enter my password and click the box.  I think I'm behind Door Number 2 already.  On the next screen, I have to enter my "Email or Username" and then my "Password".  But what will happen if I do?  Do I enter a new one, or the one I can't remember?  That's a fairly legitimate question.  Let's try a new one.  After that I should click Log In.  I have a new password, for all you hackers out there, it's called WhateverMan#1!      Let's try.  Done with the details.  Click Log In.  No, I have made an "ERROR: The password (I) entered for the email or username grantseraph11 is incorrect.  Lost your password?" I am helpfully asked.  Yes, I'm sorry about that.  Let's click on that one because I clearly don't know what my password is.  Click.  New screen.  The Lost password page.  Follow three simple steps 1. Enter your WordPress.com username or email address etc 2. I can wait for my recovery details to be sent 3. Follow instructions and be reunited with my WordPress.com account. 
But, if I want more help they have a full guide to resetting your passord.  I like reading, so I'll do that.  Yep, I'm back at the Support page.  Let's go back to the last page  Down the bottom it says Username or Email,  so do I do that again, and then click Get New Password.  Probably not.  I think I know what will happen, but I can't see any other options.  I am reading and writing down this process as I do it on my Ipad.  So using my I Pad,  I will give my email.  Next Screen.  I'm feeling excited because it says "Check your email for the confirmation link.  Please choose your password carefully, using these tips.  Whatever man, I'm number one.  No actually, I won't use that one but a very simple one I won't forget.  Down the bottom, it asks me to enter my email in one bar.  Done.  And a password in the bar below **************  Done.  Now click Log In.  Done.  New page says Server maintenance and asks me not to touch my browser for a few minutes.  Now that's funny.  This is all true.  I'm going to have a coffee now, and to wait as I have been told. 

POSTSCRIPT
I can be somewhat impatient, and finally I received some concret help from the good team at Wordpress.  I am not trying to hate on them in this writing.  If one reads reviews of blogging tools, Wordpress is often recommended as the number 1, 2 or 3 tool of choice for bloggers everywhere.  I do think though in this world where literacy itself is an issue, in a world filled with beautiful, smiling, friendly, open, warm and caring Special Needs children, we should be making this process as simple as possible.  I went to live in a world where the web is for everyone, even plebs like me, and ended up in this one.  (Originally went was just a typo, and I meant to write want; just thought I'd say something clever.)  Smile a little bit : )!

BOOKS AND DARKNESS

FOR MY READERSHP, ABOUT THIS POST: It begins a little serious, but the last half is a bit more fun to read. Skim read the first section, if you want, although I think it contains very important information. Just read it.

Dear diary,

Hi, this is Garant. Hope you guys are sleeping well, because I'm not. I'm writing this at 3:30 in the morning. I'm not meaning to blame anyone, whoever and wherever they are. It is, firstly, no-one's fault if they are sleeping soundly and, secondly, just something I have been unable to do for a couple of years now and, thirdly, a choice. I choose not to try to sleep because I just think, well, I'm awake now, I might as well get up and do something productive, like scribbling in a notebook, rather than tossing and turning.

I first learned about how painful it was to toss and turn way back in the days of adolescence when I had bad knees. As a result of growing pains (no, I'm not referring to my brother and sisters), the fifteen year old me would often wake in the middle of the night, with knee joints feeling like they were ready to burst the skin. It's a hard feeling to describe, now that I can hardly remember it. If I get another go around in this merry circus called life, I would like to remind any future me to always keep a diary because it sure would make writing about the past easier. I usually caught up on sleep in late afternoon physics when I was in attendance or whatever other subject I found particularly EXCITING. Economics, anyone?

A more painful experience with sleeplessness occurred when I was in the heavy grip of severe depression as a 20 year old. Unable to sleep at night, my mind would flip flop around in the dark with a single theme- "new and exciting ways to die." This is often called suicidal ideation. If you have never experienced this, I hope you would never have to. If you are currently experiencing it, there is help out there. First port of call on the literary front would be a book called "How I stayed alive when was my brain was trying to kill me." (That is a real book and, actually, a very good one.)

You might also read books like "Feeling Good" by David Burns or “Undoing Depression” by Richard O'Connor. You might even try a bit of old fashioned religion and read something like "Dark Night of the Soul" by St John of the Cross .(That one is a bit heavy, though.) Or try some basic Buddhism 101 which describes how pain and suffering is just, well, part of life for all of us. Hell, you might even read the Bible, which talks about the pain and suffering of God himself, as epitomised by the life of Christ. If you don't believe in it, at all, or are not sure what to make of it, you can just read it as a myth. You can do that, you know.

There are also lots of great memoirs out there. My personal favorite is a book called “The Noonday Demon”, by a guy named Andrew Solomon. This lovely book describes his own battles with depression, as well as those of others, and gives a lot of excellent information on how he and others have gotten better. Back when I was really angsty and grungy, I really appreciated “Prozac Nation” by Elizabeth Wurtzel. I thought I had problems! Most famously, there is “Darkness Visible” by William Styron, although I haven't read that one.

You might also benefit from some of the newer, sort of spiritual, therapeutic literature. “The Happiness Trap”, “Radical Acceptance” and stuff by Jon Kabat Zinn are all pretty great, IMHO. A book that really did help me is a book called “The Miracle of Mindfulness” by a hero of mine called Thich Nhat Hanh. A Vietnamese Buddhist monk, he was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by Martin Luther King, Jr. He was also really good friends with a guy named Thomas Merton, for all of you Catholics out there. The book itself is an exceedingly gentle introduction to meditation. What I love most about that man is the sense of inner peace that he seems to live within. He really is just a person that you couldn't imagine hurting anyone.

More recently, I've been benefitting greatly by a book called “Into the Silent Land”, which is about contemplative prayer. Some of the books on the Jesus Prayer are really wonderful, especially, I think, that by a man called Simon Barrington Ward. I know some of the religious folk out there would probably find my list a little too eclectic. That's okay. I'm sure there's the right way for you, too. Please don't get too heavily into all of the "demon possession" stuff, though. I think it can be dangerous for other people, but I don't know everything.

There's a lot out there worth reading, if you really need to know. But it can be difficult when you have self-limiting beliefs and physiological limitations like problems with attention., which seem to go together like fists in a glove. This can be an issue with therapy itself.

WHEW. All of the heavy stuff is out of the way. Now, I can tell some funny stories. I used to argue with my first therapist a bit like this. (To be fair, I wasn't the best client. Is that what they're still calling them these days?)

Therapist: "What's bothering you these days?"

Grant: "For a start, I can't read."

Then, he would say, "Why do you say, "I can't read".

I would say, "I never finish books."

He would say, "Haven't you ever finished a book? Not even one."

I'd say, "Does "Hitting Across the Line" by Viv Richards count? My father doesn't think so."

Therapist: "Oh, your father doesn't think so?"

Me: "No, my father doesn't think so. He told me so. He told me they weren't proper books."

"He said they weren't proper books, did he?"

"No, he said they were boring books, and I was a boring person for reading them."

"Oh, that's interesting."

"C'mon, man. I thought you were supposed to be the therapist. Aren't we supposed to focus."

"Sorry, that's right. Where were we?"

"I said, I can't read books."

"That's right. Grant, listen to me very carefully here. Why do you think you say you can't read books."

"We already did that one. I told you I don't mean I can't read books. I never finish them."

"So what was the last book you finished?"

"Shit, man. I can't bloody remember."

So here's some other stuff to do before you die. Therapy. Sometimes it's useful. Sometimes it's painful. Sometimes it's less effective. It comes in all different shapes and sizes. Some of it is good. Some of it is less so. But looked at long and hard enough, looked at a little askew, it can actually be quite entertaining.

Next up PART 2: HOW THERAPY COULD HAVE WORKED

I ^{(A )} would have sat me (B) down with a copy of Dr Seuss and said “What’s this?”  The 21 year old me (B) would have said, “It’s a children’s book.”  (A) Can you read this?  (B) I’m not bloody reading that.  It’s fricking Dr Seuss.  (A) Do you mind if I do?  (B) Sure go ahead.  Whatever floats your boat.  (A) Before I do, can I say one thing I like about you?  Tears would have come to my eyes.  (B) NO-one likes me man, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.  I don’t even like me.  (A) Well, I don’t exactly think you’re perfect.  You’re pretty difficult sometimes- but, yeah, I do like you.  Do you know why?  (B) Why?  Why do you like me?  (A) I like you because you’re smart.  You feel stupid right now because you have depression and your medication is playing hacky sack with your attention.  But you are smart.  How many people can say, “ I won the Westpac Maths Prize and came second in the state chess championship.”  You must be pretty smart.  (B) But that stuff doesn’t matter.  I’ll never be as smart as my brother.  (A) Let’s leave all of that behind, just for today.  But can I do something different?  (B) All right, what do you think we’re supposed to do now?  How does this shit make me feel any different?  (A) You think you can’t read.  I think I can read.  I think you are smarter than I will ever be.  (B) Bullshit.  (A) Seriously, I do.  I got credits in the Westpac maths competition and all through University.  I’m not a high distinction kind of guy.  (B) Okay, so?  (A) If I can read this, you can read this, too.  Because I like this book.  This guy’s a genius with language.  You can’t read some of those other book because some of those books are boring.  Here’s a little secret.  A lot of books you’re trying to read might not be any good.  But this book is called “The Cat in the Hat”.  I promise you, I will put my hat on and I will make you laugh.”  Now you can take the other one home.  That’s your homework.  And we’re going to start writing later.  Nothing difficult, just

TODAY

l  I did…………………………………………………………………….

l  I felt…………………………………………………………………….

l  I went to………………………………………………………………..

l  I thought it was……………………………………………………….

l  I want to………………………………………………………………..

 

WHEN I WAS A KID, I liked…………………………………………

…………………………………………………………………………….

 

RGHT NOW, I need…………………………………………………….. 

 

And right now, I’m going to write down one sentence.  This is the keeper for today’s lesson.  “You can read but you don’t have to.”  And one more: This one is for you  “If I want to I can read “The Places You’ll Go by Dr Seuss.”  And then the therapist would give me (B) the book in my hands, and say “Good luck.  Is there anything else you need to talk about today, or are we okay for right now.”  And I (B) would walk out feeling better about the world and therapy itself. 

 

DEBRIEFING

But therapy was never really like that.  But it could be for you.  Do the reading thing, though.  I highly recommend it.  Try “Cat’s Cradle” by Vonnegut.  It will rock your world.

 

With much love, from Grant.