TELEPSYCHOLOGY: PERSISTENT PROBLEMS

     The American Psychological Association has just released its guidelines for the practice of telepsychology. Some state psychological associations have already released their own guidelines. These guidelines are important because the Internet is filled with offers of cyber counseling, internet counseling, on-line psychotherapy, personal psychological testing and the like. None of these offerings are currently regulated by any regulating group. It is possible that no such regulation will exist for some time to come. Guidelines (note that these are not "standards") take years to become translated into practice laws in the various states and provinces of the US and Canada. Practice laws often don't exist in other countries where Internet access is easily available.  

     Slowly, the efficacy of telepsychology is being established. There is every reason to believe that interventions via technology--as opposed to sitting in a practitioner's office--will prove to be a safe, effective, less-expensive and more accessible alternative to traditional care. However there are still a number of issues that will need to be addressed before reliable telepsychology services will be practical.

     One is that many times these services are not yet reimbursable under current insurance programs.

     Another is that, although the technology is improving, full confidentiality cannot yet be guaranteed, although I believe that this problem can be pretty well dealt with in the near future.

     Third, and in my estimation the most important, is that practice across state and international boundaries may have substantial legal obstacles. A colleague and I did some research about 10 years ago in preparation for an article about the unintended consequences of increasing technology on the practice of psychology. The literature at that time indicted that every State's Attorney General in each US state indicated that he/she would need to take a hard look at internet practice by psychologists unlicensed in their respective states--that is, those who are licensed in other states but not their state. Therefore it is also not clear whether malpractice insurance would protect a practitioner practicing across state lines. The safest level of practice of telepsychology at this time is practice done solely within the state where one is licensed.

     Another concern we discovered in researching the article was that the legal jurisdiction for bringing suit for online practice may be unclear. There were some who were suggesting that electronic data that is transmitted through servers that were located outside the state one is practicing in might be considered in determining the legal jurisdiction in which a practitioner could be sued. Thus, if one practice in Florida but the web data were transmitted through servers in Georgia, New York, Wyoming and California on the way to and from the client, there might be the possibility that a lawyer could bring suit in any of those other states if that offered advantages to the plaintiff. A psychologist from Miami, Florida might have to defend herself in California in a suit brought by a client across town. I am not an attorney, so I have no way of judging the validity of such an argument, but it is enough to want to have good legal advice before deciding to engage in the provision of telepsychology services.

     Another prominent issue for possible patients is that there is currently no way to assess the credentials of those offering telepsychology services. There is no clearinghouse that one can go to to be assured that the person offering services is qualified to do so and is the person they claim to be. This may not present a problem to someone who has already met the person they are working with, but might be a problem for someone making a first contact online. (Coincidentally, there may be no way for a therapist to be sure that the client they have engaged with is genuine.)

     Another concern for both psychologist and patient is the possible need for immediate, emergency services for the patient who needs them. Psychologists practicing in their own communities usually have knowledge of emergency services available to their patients and ways of engaging crisis interventions for them. That will probably not be true when their patients reside in other communities. Even with careful pre-screening of patients, these events could present significant distress and/or danger to patients and significant distress and liability to telepsychology practitioners.

     There are some other issues regarding telehealth practice that are in the process of being looked at in the profession, such as whether any system for providing therapeutic services is superior to any other type of system and whether computer-assisted interventions can serve as a primary method of treatment rather than just as an adjunct. Seldom discussed is whether the therapist's right of privacy can be breached by a client who downloads and records a therapy sesssion and shares it with others. Could one end up with a therapy session uploaded to YouTube and what would be the implications?

      I believe that each of the concerns I have mentioned above can be solved, some more quickly than others, of course. The reluctance that many older people have about providing or recieving telehealth and telepsychology services does not appear to be shared by the "millenial" generation who have grown up with computers, cell phones and the Internet. They have routinely shared very personal information through social media outlets and have been tracked all of their lives by Internet search engines. Their expectations of privacy seem to be very low; sometimes I believe that we professionals must take extra steps to protect them from their lack of care about that when it comes to telehealth services. We cannot afford to be careless. We do need to take telepsychology services seriously and we need to work diligently to make sure that they are provided safely and effectively. This is not going to go away.

MERMAID IN MY SWIMMING POOL

Mermaid Rachael

     For a brief period of time in my career as a psychologist I worked with returning veterans and their families.  On one occasion, a emaciated, very stressed young man came to my office for an initial evaluation. He had barely sat in the seat near my desk when he leaned over the wastebasket by the desk and vomited. It seemed quite natural and he hardly missed a beat as he went on telling me why he was there. It didn't involve the vomiting, by the way. That episode reminded me of an old story about the psychiatrist who was interviewing a person for the first time and asked him to recount how his morning began. The man said: "Well, I usually wake up by about 6AM. I go to the bathroom, relieve myself, vomit, brush my teeth, take a shower....." The psychiatrist interrupts and says: "Wait a minute. You said you relieve yourself, then vomit. Every morning?"  The man said: "Yes. Doesn't everybody?"         

      Well, last week I had a mermaid in my swimming pool. Some people I told about it said: "Really?" My response was: "Doesn't everybody"? Well, if they don't they should. Everybody needs a manifestation of a mythical creature actually appear in their lives from time to time just for the hell of it. Otherwise how can we keep our imaginations alive and healthy? My mermaid is named Rachael and she is about ready to finish classes and take her boards to become a nurse practitioner. Well, a girl/fish has to have something to fall back on....and it beats working for scale : ).

Goodby for now. "Thanks for the fish." 

PLEASANTLY SURPRISED

Red Spider Lily of the Surprise Lily group.

      Surprise Lilies are called that because the leaves that are so lush in the winter here in Florida die back and disappear for months before a flower stalk suddenly emerges from the seemingly barren dirt and produces a vivid flower head about a foot off the ground. After the flower stalk dies back, the leaves begin to emerge again and soak up energy during the winter months. If you forget where you planted them--or even if you didn't forget--the sudden emergence of the flowers over a few days time, seemingly from nowhere, is a delightful surprise.

    One of the great gifts we humans have is the ability to experience pleasant surprises. Unlike the unpleasant ones, pleasant surprises don't activate our fight or flight impulses. They let us linger and be amused or captivated, and they activate our imaginations in fun and exciting ways. We may not be alone in the animal kingdom at being able to experience pleasant surprises, but we certainly fortunate that we can. 

     One of the pleasant surprises I've had from starting this personal web site is that I have been able to keep track of the web addresses of those who have visited the site. Using and online URL tracker, I can tell, roughly, were these visitors are located. Many, of course, are web addresses of my friends, but many are from people around the world. One of my poems seems particularly interesting to several people from France. There have been other visitors from Ukraine, Germany, England, Canada, New Zealand, China, the Middle East, Russia, South America and Africa. That is rather astounding to me. Of course, some only look at the introduction page and move on, but others seem to enjoy exploring the site. That gives me a lot of pleasure. I hope they have found something that gives them pleasure as well. 

    If you should visit my web site and want to share your impressions of anything you see, please feel free to leave a comment. Whatever you may say will add a pleasant surprise to my day. 

A DEER VISITOR

Pretty visitor in my front yard.

     The conditions have been good for deer and wild turkeys to flourish in my area over the past few years. The oak trees are producing abundant acorns and the vegetation has been lush.  At the same time, the coyote packs have proliferated and can be heard most nights in the surrounding woods. A Florida panther has been a visitor to my son's neighborhood over the past month and his dog is afraid to go out alone. My son lives about 25 miles from me as the crow flies. A number of pets are missing in his area, including his beloved cat, Tibby. I see a lot of animal tracks on the dirt road on my morning walks and they indicate that a lot a deer are crossing from field to field. One of the fields is planted in peanuts and I can attest from having my own garden stripped of peanut plants that deer love the green tops and eat them to the ground.  

     This youngster and its mother seem to live just across the fence from my yard. My neighbors don't maintain the back portions of their properties and they are overgrown with shrubs and small trees. I suspect that the deer feel safer from coyotes and panthers closer to human habitations and there is also a lot of available food and water nearby. It isn't unusual to see mom and youngster in the lane leading to my house from the main road. They are both good fence-jumpers now, so we usually don't see them for very long before they jump the fence and disappear into the woods. This particular day, the fawn was in my yard eating and allowed my granddaughter to approach within about 100 feet before bolting. The pictures here are by my granddaughter, Wanda Blake. Wanda is a person of many accomplishments. She is a registered nurse (ER and trauma) and a licensed massage therapist. She makes beautiful jewelry and has become an accomplished photographer. Photography may be her next profession, in fact. I think the young deer was as fascinated by her as she was by the deer.

THOR

I have no pets of my own, but my daughter and granddaughter have four dogs between them and they all live with me.  This is my friend, Thor. 

This is Thor. He weighs about 135 pounds. 

He is a big galoot. He has big feet and he walks funny. Just a bit of his mouth slobber will have you slimed from head to toe.   

He likes to lick your hand and butt his head into your crotch (He doesn't ask!). 

He is so big that the house shakes when he comes down the stairs at a gallop.

His eyes always look a little sad, but his whole body wags when he sees you. 

He knows what "bad dog" means; you can see it in his posture when he hears it said.

He likes you to lie down with him while he embraces you with his big front legs. Getting this close invites a generous series of licks on anything he can reach

All-in-all, he is a big, ungainly friend who you wouldn't want to be without.

But don't let him sit on your lap!



 

Thinking About Psychotherapy...Again

     Since beginning my study of psychology I have witnessed a plethora of approaches to the art of psychotherapy. My own studies have included the therapeutic systems of Freud, Jung, Adler, Perls, Rogers as well as behavioral therapy in it's many forms, Gestalt art therapy, EMDR, hypnotherapy, Emotion Focused Therapy, narrative therapy, family systems therapy from a number of perspectives, couple's therapy from as many perspectives, and even more approaches that I could probably recall if I were to make more effort. The most salient conclusion I can draw from investigating all of these approaches is that we are still pretty ignorant of how to create change, reliably, with the whole range of people who are hurting enough to seek help from us. Although the search for a biological basis for all mental health issues continues, there is little evidence that the biological interventions we have available--such as psychoactive medications, electroshock, dietary changes, exercise programs and such are providing any "magic bullet" solutions for the people seeking help with the issues that are causing them grief in their daily living. Trying to find the biological underpinnings of all mental health issues and creating biological interventions for dealing with them seems such a reductionist approach to dealing with people as to dehumanize them. It makes even more likely that medicine will treat the problem and not the person.  

     From my perspective, far too little attention is paid to the interaction between the patient/client and the person providing care. We know with some certainty that some therapists routinely get better results than others. There has been some very interesting research on so-called "super-shrinks," those who are substantially more successful with their clients than other therapists. Any technique can be useful if applied in the right way and the right time by the therapist. A therapist with a drive to be helpful and the flexibility to adjust to the condition of the client at any given moment is probably more successful overall than one who holds rigidly to a therapeutic dogma regardless of the client's response to the treatment. What we used to call "resistance" we now recognize as the natural response by the client to the therapeutic approach of the therapist and the failure of the therapist to establish a trusting relationship where the client feels the support necessary to allow his/her anxieties and fears to come to the fore where they can be fully experienced in a safe way, thus allowing for a more useful way of dealing with them.

     Lately, I have become more intrigued with attachment theory. It fits my notion of how defense mechanisms develop at varying ages and how the lack of a safe emotional environment for a child can help "lock in" behaviors at the emotional level that continue long after they are useful for dealing with the situation where they were originally engaged. A person can get trapped in a loop of fear (anxiety) and automatic emotional response that is not mitigated by the left brain and is therefor constantly an anxiety-producing surprise when unconsciously activated by any current stimulus that resembles the original situation at the emotional level. The goal of therapy is to help the client re-experience the feelings, fully, while in a safe relationship with the therapist and find out that they no longer need to act automatically with the same defense mechanisms that they had used to keep themselves safe in the first place. They need to know that they do not need to be afraid of their own feelings. My bias is that therapies that focus primarily at the emotional level (and there are a number of such approaches) are the ones that can create the greatest and most lasting changes because they rely on the person's natural resilience and striving toward health to allow change to happen. When change happens in this way, clients know within themselves that they do not have to be held hostage by their feelings any more. An intriguing aspect of emotion-focused therapies is that they fit well with the trend toward "short term" therapy (therapy that can produce excellent results in from 6 to 24 sessions for most people). There is no reason that I can think of where therapy should not be pursued at the most rapid rate that is effective for the client rather than at the rate that is the most comfortable or lucrative for the therapist.

     I still believe that there is a great deal of "art" to the practice of psychotherapy, but there is also a great deal of skill needed as well. Successful therapists need to be willing and able to deal with strong emotions--both in their clients and in themselves-- because that is where change takes place. Practicing psychotherapy is "not for sissies." Client's stories and feelings can make the hair stand up on the back of your head. You can become immersed in deep pain and distress. The hopelessness expressed by the client can test your own beliefs for the possibility for a good outcome for the person. You can doubt your own skills and abilities. There might even be a danger of becoming addicted to the adrenaline rush of vicariously living on the edge of so many people in such deep distress. It is important to know who you are and to have someone to talk with when you have doubts that get stuck in your own head. What keeps us going, however, is the positive changes we see in the people we come to know so intimately so quickly. To share in their joy when they see the curtains open to a new life free of old distress is immensely rewarding. I know that each successful outcome for a client is a reward in itself and that, only when we see that, do we recognize that part of our reward is taking on a challenge to our own abilities when we can't predict reliably that we will be successful and finding that we were able to help a distressed person in a meaningful way. Personally, this is the only kind of puzzle-solving I like to engage in.

New Poems Added: Path and Journey

     It does not seem strange to me, as a semi-retired psychologist, that many of my poems focus on relationships and the inner emotional states of individuals. Some of them reflect my personal journey and some are observations of people I have known as friends and as clients. The poems I have just added to the "Contemporary Poetry" section of this web site are in this mold. The are: A PATH THROUGH THE PARK and A JOURNEY NEITHER OF US COULD HAVE MADE ALONE.

View from the side of Volcan Arenal in Costa Rica.

BEFORE THE HEAT OF SUMMER

New leaves in ​Spring.

     The rains have come, early and welcome, and the lane is in the cool green shadows of new leaves. The graded dirt road winds around a sagging barn. Along the sandy road, tracks of animals--fox, rabbit, dog, deer, field rats, mice, birds, gopher tortoise--and an occasional coyote, mix together, sometimes showing signs of struggles won and lost in keeping Nature's balance.

     A flash of red and white against black and than a heavy "thud, thud, thud" announces a pileated woodpecker. The red-tailed hawk that usually roosts high on a dead tree branch hasn't returned yet, but will be here again soon to keep the rodents in check.

     Away from the trees, the sky seems to blend with the pastures that roll away into a slight morning fog hanging low. Thousands of dandelions face the sun on long stems like prairie dogs looking for predators. Licorice permeates the air from the tiny white flowers of plants whose name I don't know, but which are welcome, never-the-less, on this delicious, quiet morning. I wonder just how much the human eye doesn't see, and I can't imagine how this experience could be improved upon on a day like this. 

     But then I hear the neighbor's peacock's attention-getting call and see its iridescent blue feathers in my mind as it perches high in a tree with its long tail plumage seeming to threaten to drag it to the ground....and I remember those days in India where peacocks were part of a full assault on all of my senses at once, and I feel surprisingly at peace.

     My soul begins to relax and I say, to nobody in particular, "thanks."

Dandelions in the pasture.​

Children of India

I have added a few pictures of  kids I saw in India to the Pictures: Places and People section of this web site. They follow the picture of the Taj Mahal taken from the garden in front of the tomb. I was often surrounded by kids on this trip, each wanting to shake my hand, or introduce himself with his limited English. They were always excited and eager to meet someone who looked so different from the people they usually saw in their lives. They had tremendous energy and curiosity. They were smiling and playful and they followed me and others in the group as long as they could. I have great hope for India and for the world after spending time with them. Living in a land of 1.3 billion people I wonder what lies in store for them when they grow up.

Generations of people at a potter's home and workshop in a poor Indian village.​

Return from India

Although I have been back from India for a week, I am still feeling caught between two cultures. India is an all-encompassing experience, involving all of the senses at once and they are all on maximum volume most of the time. Home is just the opposite, but is just as engaging in its own way. ​

Our travel group in the Moon Garden. across the river from the Taj Mahal.​

I'm on the right and our guide, Somnast Bose is in front center. This group was great to travel with and made this trip incredibly special. I'll add more pictures and comments in later posts.​

Travel to India

Just a week from now I will be arriving in India, a place that has been on my travel list for so long that I have forgotten when I first thought of it.​ It seems unreal.

When I was a kid growing up in the small town of Havana, Illinois I had heard of people taking vacations, although I knew few people who actually did so. The people I knew who had traveled to other countries were the military people who had served in WWII or Korea. As a soldier, my older brother was stationed in Germany and traveled through Europe on his leaves, but I didn't have the impression that he wanted to be anywhere but home. I never dreamed that I would ever travel anywhere. I could not imagine how that might happen. I was actually afraid to go to a big city. I was sure I would get lost or mugged or something else bad would happen to me.​ It wasn't until I was already married and traveled to New York City for a group therapy training workshop that I finally realized that I could get around town and experience new things without actually dying in the attempt. I have found that I actually like exploring new places, even places full of people, like the big cities of the world. With my wife, I visited every state in the US and most of the provinces of Canada. We traveled to Ecuador, Peru, the Bahamas, Puerto Rico and St. Martin together. After her passing, I continued my travels, going to Australia, Cambodia, Thailand, China, Jordan, Egypt, Costa Rica and Aruba, sometimes with friends and sometimes making new friends of the people I found myself traveling with. Not bad for a kid from a town of 4000 people in the heart of Illinois.

Now I'm headed to India and will be traveling with 15 other people, none of whom I have met yet. However I know that I will have new friends when I return and that I'll have experiences I will enjoy sharing with my friends and family at home. I have also become aware that my experiences and behaviors will mean very little in the over-all scheme of  things. Oh, there will be some minor economic impact both at home and wherever I travel and I will meet some new people and share their perspectives about things as I hope they will share my own. Yet, the primary impact will be on my own fund of knowledge and state of mind. And I am only one insignificant person in the grand scheme of the Universe. What happens to me is of very minor importance to anybody but me. I have made my mark, for whatever worth that has, through teaching, mentoring, doing psychotherapy, supervising trainees, doing accreditation visits to counseling centers, publishing a few professional articles, raising my children and being as good a person as I can manage with all of my flaws. This web site is my one last attempt at leaving something of myself to whatever posterity follows me. Even that will fade away after I die and the blog disappears from the web. I can't say that I'm really very disappointed. I came much farther than I ever dreamed I would when I was a kid back in that little town in central Illinois.

GUN FREE ZONES?

I  have no fear of guns as such. I have a lot of fear of people who use guns. We live in a strange time. On the one hand everyone is encouraged to call the police immediately if they see a person displaying gun in public. On the other, more and more people are obtaining concealed weapons permits. Frankly, people with guns scare me. I have heard too many stories of people going on shooting rampages and killing innocent citizens. I have known of too many people killed or maimed in accidental shootings. I have had friends who nearly shot their spouses with bedside guns, not knowing that their spouses had gotten up during the night and were moving around the house or the bedroom. ​I know of many domestic violence situations that were made much worse because a gun was easily available. As a psychologist, I know how difficult it is to assess "dangerousness" in people. My own response to all of these considerations is to not trust anybody with a gun. Better to avoid being around anybody with a gun than to become a victim.

With all of the concealed weapons permits, however, this has become more problematic. I have no idea whether the person in the checkout line at Target is "packing" and whether on not they are about to explode into acts of violence. I have no idea if, when the shooting starts, I'll be maimed or killed by other citizens who draw their guns and start shooting at whoever they think is the "bad guy." Even with the best of training and a lot of practice, people who are emotionally rattled are going to miss their target a lot. I don't want to be in the way of those random bullets. Because I can't tell for sure just who is carrying, I have become wary about being around any stranger. It isn't that I have given up going to public places, but that I've become much more watchful about the people around me, particularly those who are driving their cars aggressively who might use a gun to settle their "road rage" issues. It seems that there is a group of people in our society that is hell-bent on pushing for guns to be carried everywhere by everybody, including in our schools, hospitals, parks, shopping malls, recreation areas, work places, restaurants, libraries and any other public place. Their notion is that they will be more able to protect themselves from the "bad guys" if they can carry their guns. To me, they are the bad guys. What makes them feel secure makes me feel insecure. Should I not have the right, as a citizen of this country, to be protected from those people who insist on carrying guns everywhere? Shouldn't I be able to feel secure from people who could shoot me and the people I love easily because all they need to do is reach into their belt holsters?  Shouldn't there be some way of keeping other people's guns out of my life?

At the moment, all I can think of doing is this: If I see anybody carrying a gun, or who has one in their car, who is clearly not on a hunting trip, I can call the police and report them. That way the police can locate the person and deal with them. If everyone who is concerned about all of the guns on the street does the same, ​we can begin to bring pressure on the powers-that-be to make guns-on-the-street a less desirable occurrence.

SPRING BREAK

While I was enrolled for a master's degree program at Bradley University in 1963, I went on my first Spring Break. I spent a week in Daytona Beach, burning my lily-white skin to a crisp while enduring air temperatures in the low 70's. That was my last Spring Break until just a week ago when my best friend and I took advantage of her spring break (as a university faculty member) to spend four days in Aruba. I think this trip was the most relaxing time I have spent anywhere in my lifetime--and I didn't get burned to a crisp--and the air temperatures were in the low 80's. We had a great time. I showed her how easy it was to lose $10 in a slot machine in the casino in just a few minutes and we never went back to the casino again. It was nice being in the Caribbean again, my former trips having been to St. Martins, Puerto Rico and the Bahamas.

Baby Beach in Aruba

Remembering my first Spring Break while attending Bradley University (Peoria, Illinois) in the 1960's, also reminded me that I wrote poetry at that time in my life as well as what I have written more recently. I have added a section to my web site called "Early Poetry," and have begun to add a few poems from those years. The first two, "Atlantic" and "First Shift" were probably my first serious attempts to get recognition for my creative writing. Those were heady years for me as I explored and immersed myself in the culture around me. My friends were artists, writers and other outliers in the university community. We made our own group, but could probably be most closely identified with the beatnik crowd. I valued all of my education from those years, both inside and outside the classrooms.​ I don't make a habit of living in the past, preferring to live in the present, but those were formative years for me and I am thankful that I had them just as they were.

Poems Added

I have added two poems to the Contemporary Poetry section. They are: "My Special Friend" and "Mother's Day in Fresno."​

RUMI and HARUKI MURAKAMI

Restaurant in Thailand urging people to use condoms to prevent disease.​

I usually read science fiction for pleasure because it so often offers alternative ways to look at past and contemporary problems in society without being at all hampered by being bound by historical facts. In science fiction, anything is possible, but is usually based on an extension of scientific facts. That separates it from pure fantasy, which I don't enjoy nearly as much.  I find that ideas put forth in science fiction have some possibility of coming into reality, although not always during my lifetime, and many of the ideas promise a better future for mankind--provided that we don't force ourselves into extinction by our own follies.

There are two authors I have discovered this year, however, whose writing does not fit into my preferred fiction genre. One is a Sufi poet called Rumi. He was born in the early years of the 13th century in Afghanistan but grew up in what is now modern day Turkey and Syria. He wandered widely, teaching, learning, enjoying friendships and reveling in the naturalness of living while always exploring his relationship to God. I know his work through a book named "The Essential Rumi: New and Expanded Edition," ​a book of translations of Rumi's poetry by Coleman Barks and others. (Harper San Francisco, 2004). As I read Rumi's poems I was astonished by how honestly and simply he wrote about the most mundane of daily behaviors but seemed to illuminate them as if they were stones found on the ground that, when washed clean by clear water, became the most startling of gems. He seems to speak of everything, from the lowest of bodily functions to drinking to excess to deep and abiding love of good friends. His observations of everyday behavior are so simple as to be masterful. He is a teacher I feel I could learn from by just being in his presence.  He truly seemed to know himself and had no need to embellish who he was or wasn't. I think that anybody who practices psychotherapy--or wants to--could learn much of what it means to be human by reading his work. Besides, his writing is just fun to read.

A very unusual "modern" Buddhist temple in Thailand depicting Hell, Earth and Heaven.​

I have just discovered a book by Haruki Murakami, "1Q84,"​ (Vintage Books, 2013) that is providing one of the most intriguing reads I have ever found in a novel. The author is Japanese and his books are translated into many languages. I suspect that part of my interest is the references he makes to American, Japanese and European culture in such a casual way that I think he must be more of a world citizen than a person of only one nationality. He is also about my own age, so some of the cultural references he makes are about events and people very familiar to me. He has special skill at introducing strong and intriguing characters whose stories he introduces naturally and gradually as the book unfolds. In fact, like any good novel, there are several stories that serve to develop the characters while pulling the reader deeper and deeper into the book. Nothing is really obvious at first, but connections among the characters are revealed to the reader even before the characters in the book are aware of the connections. Although seemingly anchored in stark reality, Murakami introduces themes and situations that make both the characters and the reader wonder just what reality really is. One of the questions about this apparent distortion of reality leads one of the characters, Aomame, to rename the year this book was set in (1984) to 1Q84; thus, the title of the book. There are various references to a piece of music, Janacek's Sinfonietta, that appears to connect the two main characters in the book, just as they also both see two moons in the sky. It is unclear that anybody else experiences the world just like they do. Connections between them continue to unfold as the reader is lead toward their eventual reunion--or not. The Sinfonietta is easily accessible on the Internet and helps set the mood of the book. This is a long, satisfying, book, exceeding 1150 pages. The author is a master craftsman; no words are wasted. It is worth a look. From my perspective, this book examines the interfaces between the lives of people and all of the unknowns of Heaven, Earth and Hell.

WHY IS THE INEVITABLE SO OFTEN DISAPPOINTING?

No, this is not happening at my home in Florida right now, but I feel like my plants are going to think it is.  We had a near-freeze last night and will most assuredly have a hard freeze tonight. I mourn for the blueberry bushes that are in full bloom and the orange trees that have flower buds nearly ready to open. The Azaleas are toast! So much for the nice warm winter that has everything blooming a month before it should. Why is the "inevitable" always something disappointing? If we lived just 50 miles west of here we would be on the Gulf coast and not worry about freezes because of the mitigation of the warm Gulf of Mexico waters. As it is, we can only stand by and wait to see if the weather that is predicted will only affect the most northern part of our area and not make it to our yard. It is enough to make one philosophical.

POEMS: Celestial & Love's Redemption

CELESTIAL

The thing is
that I could never find a way
to interest her in
being with me.

It's not that I didn't try
or that I gave up easily
or that I didn't
keep in touch.

Her life just didn't have
room for me in it
except as an occasional
friend.

We loved one another.
I, perhaps,
more than she.
It was hard to tell.

I never knew
where she was
or who she was with,
if anyone.

I didn't know
what she did
when she was away
doing her thing.

Our orbits were
elliptical and seldom
overlapped,
almost random.

She disappeared
behind the Sun.
Blinded by her leaving
I awaited her return.

Jim Morgan---May 30, 2010

Angkor Wat, Cambodia

LOVE'S REDEMPTION

Love, you left me
and you really didn't say goodbye.
You left me with a question
That I could never answer for myself.

I see the grey limousine
in the distance
turning a corner and
disappearing from sight.
I know that it is you.
I call out to you and there is no reply.

Here in my waking dreams
early on a rainy Florida morning
I feel your absence so profoundly.

You left us all,
slipping away as you lay in the next room.
The you that was you
was long gone
before we witnessed your body's last breath.
I whispered in your ear
that I loved you and that it was OK for you to go,
but I lied to myself
to say that it was OK
because you left me with the feeling that
I had broken your heart.

You were gone and I could never
redeem myself with you.
Or, at least, not until today
when you appeared, symbolically,
in my dreams
and gave me another chance
to feel my grief and
to let go of those unfortunate
regrets.
Thank you, my Love.

Jim Morgan--August 27, 2012

IN AND OUT OF SHADOWS

     I wrote the following vignettes as a poem, but decided they work equally well as short pieces of prose.

Karnak, Egypt

In and Out of Shadows

Hazy, softness, warmth, colors, drifting

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Sounds of birds flitting through the trees. Leaves move gently in the light wind. A stick insect moves deliberately toward its prey. The capture jar is in my hand and the lid, punctured with nail holes, is ready to screw on. In the jar, mixing with grass and leaves, the insect disappears.

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Predawn. The stars still brilliant in the moonless sky. No animal sounds as I ride my bicycle along the street delivering newspapers to homes where early risers are just brewing their coffee. In the corner of my eye I sense, rather than see, a streak of light above me and to my left. Stopping my bike I see a meteorite move silently across the sky. I shiver, not because I am cold, but because, for a moment, I feel afraid and alone. Minutes later the birds begin to make their morning sounds and the sky lightens in the east. What was only shadows becomes distinct. Dogs bark. I am once again surrounded by light and life.

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We lie in the tent. The thunder storm reminds us of our vulnerability. Yet, we are not frightened. We are energized by the wind and rain. Our closeness gives us warmth and strength. Lightening projects the shadows of tree limbs onto the walls and top of the tent. We soon become damp from the mist of rain forced through the tent fabric. We are part of the thunder and it is part of us. We talk quietly of our love and we drift into sleep.

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I am not in school today because I am ill. The sounds of the kids in the school yard just across the street let me know of the fun I am missing. The doctor comes with his black bag. He uses a thermometer that I bite too hard, again, and break in my mouth. There is no taste. He talks with Mom and leaves her some pills. Mom washes me with cold water. I have a wet wash cloth on my forehead. Time passes in strange ways. I see a comic book even though my eyes are closed. It is in full color. I wonder if I can make the pages turn by themselves. Yes, I can do it! Then I slip back into the shadows of sleep.

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Not a sound. Even breathing is risky. The bush trail is just a few feet away. The insects and birds had just started singing after getting used to me and accepting my presence. Now they have stopped again. At first I sense, rather than see, movement along the trail. They are silent and they are there. I will myself to blend in, to become part of the light and shadows of the bush. I feel immensely present in the moment, yet not present at all. It is all too real. Leaves and sticks make small sounds underfoot. The shadows move on and are gone. I become aware again of the insects crawling across my hand and over my lips. I ease carefully back from the trail, moving back to the safety of shadows.

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We are alone in the park on a hill and under some bushes just off the trail. She has loosened my belt and my hand is on her breast. Just two dumb teenagers trying to find some privacy to explore what we know our parents wouldn't approve of. Maybe that was why it feels so exciting and fun. She had brought a small blanket in her backpack for our "picnic." I hadn't planned ahead very well. No matter: it was over all too soon. We walked to her house and talked until midnight on the swing on her porch.

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I feel so content here rocking my child in the living room while my exhausted wife sleeps in our bed. Our baby has had a miserable day and night. The fever has been so high that we used cold baths and as much children's aspirin as was safe to try to get it down. My child is finally asleep against my left shoulder and the fever seems to have broken. Just in time. I had no more energy for lullabies. I risk putting him to bed, but stay next to him nodding in a chair. Through the window I see lightness beginning in the sky.

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My wife, the woman I have loved all my life, sits next to my bed. We talk of the good things and the bad. She holds my hand and tells me how much she has missed me. I drift off again. Someone washes my forehead with a damp cloth. It must be my mom. I feel peaceful. People drift in and out of my awareness. "Here, Pop, take some of this ice water. You need to take your pills." I don't want to be bothered. There is so much to remember here inside before I go. I want to drift away into the hazy softness of the shadows.

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Jim Morgan, August 11, 2010

Japanese Garden, Portland, Oregon

SPRING IN JANUARY

Plants in my yard blooming in January

     Here in the northern part of Florida near Gainesville we are in the 8 to 8.5 agriculture weather zone. These vines should have frozen back a month ago and the Azaleas shouldn't be blooming until the middle of February. The Redbud trees in the area are in full bloom and my citrus trees are beginning to show new leaves and blooms. The blueberries are in bloom as well. I can't recall any winter this warm since moving to Florida in 1964. Although there is always a danger of frost here until Easter, it just doesn't seem likely this year.

Azalea in front of a fruiting Loquat tree.

I love seeing the new blooms and, as I walk around the yard, I see that nearly all of the Azaleas are ready to open their flowers. Usually they don't overlap the Camellias that open in mid-winter here, but they are blooming side-by-side this year.  All of this blooming makes me anxious. If we do have a freeze there will be no oranges or blueberries this year, and probably no plums or pears either, although they tend to hold off their blooming until a bit later. Still, the air is filled with the scents of tea olive and viburnum blooms and the Confederate Jasmine is blooming just below the hill. Those are not to be missed. So, early or not, Spring has come in January this year. I just hope it lasts.

Eastern Redbud tree in my front yard.

The Beauty of Children

     I have been fortunate to have been able to do some international traveling. I am always struck by the honesty in the faces of children that I see. They represent the beauty of their cultures before the realities of adulthood take hold. I have added some pictures of some of those children to the photo section of my web site and will continue to do so as I run across them in my search through my old photos.

Dad and daughter in Portland, Oregon.

Middle School Kids in China

Chinese village boy checking out the strange foreign tourists.

   The pictures added include kids from Hawaii, Thailand, Cambodia, Jordan and Egypt. They begin just after the picture of the little Ecuadorian Indio girl with the big tummy.