Well it’s that time of year, dear readers – the tree is set up and hung with sparkling lights; the windows have little battery-powered candles which dispel the gloom of long Maine nights with their flickering orange glow; the stove is merrily churning out wood-stoked carbon-heavy warmth; and I’m starting to fret about whether I’ve actually checked off everyone on my Christmas gift list.
Continue reading “Christmas gifts”Beckettmas
When I was a small child, history taught at school comprised a series of stories, each one recounting the great deeds of some famous man or, occasionally, famous woman. I imagine that each country has its own selection of national heroes and heroines, exemplars for the young, whose exploits are re-told to each generation of children: Robin Hood in England, Joan d’Arc in France, William Tell in Switzerland, and Paul Revere in New England. And, if you live in Argentina, I guess it will now be Diego Maradona.
Continue reading “Beckettmas”Baselines
I think I’ve mentioned here before that my son was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder some time ago, back when he was three. I’ve always been ambivalent about the diagnosis; his mother had him evaluated roughly six months after we split up, when she was probably at her worst point post-break-up, and her own depression was, to say the least, making it difficult for her as a mother. Our son was weathering that, and weathering the loss of my regular presence – I was getting back to Seattle for a week a month, roughly, while figuring out what to do about my London existence and experience what I can only describe as a tectonic reflection as I experienced life after the marriage – and his emotional state was fraught to say the least. I’m not sure the diagnosis was correct at all; even the write up made it sound like the evaluator was talking to just a confused, depressed, and inarticulate three-year old trying to right himself while his parents both were spinning out of orbit.
Continue reading “Baselines”Relations
It’s the holidays in 2020, and I’m sure many of us are plotting how, exactly, we’re going to connect with our friends and relatives in a time where we’re either encouraged or directed to stay away from other human beings. Gone are the office holiday parties of yore, at least for now, and also forgotten are the grand family gatherings, with extended relatives coming in via plane train and automobile to share gifts, bad habits, annoying tics, and poor holiday fashion choices. In their stead is a lot of online communication: my son, for example, will be sharing the seventh night of Hanukkah via Zoom this evening with his Jewish friends in Seattle. My tradition is Catholic; my son’s tradition is whatever transformation of Christian charity and mid-nineteenth century American pragmatic that I’ve been cobbling together, but he’ll get to incant
Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai
E-lo-he-nu Me-lech ha-olam
with his friends tonight as the candles are lit, as the seventh candle is lit, as we all collectively remember the miracle of the eight nights of light.
Continue reading “Relations”The Arc of Theoretical History (Part 1)
In the beginning, there was chaos.
Stimulus and perceptions entered consciousness, undifferentiated.
How to know what mattered most?
That was (and still is) the core question of the initiated.