Mail to Self News Feed #2

I found the Mail to Self app a year and a half ago. It is genius in its simplicity and productivity. At the same time maniacal in the burden of its output. It is a ersatz news feed for me.

The app is added to your phone. You enter an email address into the app. After that when you swipe up or go to share a web page, article, etc. there is a button for Mail to Self. Just tap it and whoosh you got the article URL etc. in your inbox. The workflow is this. I will keep looking at my news feed, my papers, my sites, etc. and just mail to self to read later. Not so fast. My inbox is filled and I am not reading later cuz I got the attention span of a gnat

To repair the gnat in me I am going to post twice a week some of the articles I mailed to self. This is a way to share them with my non/imaginary readers and to force me to achieve inbox zero.

How to have a better death

This is from the April 29, 2017 Economist and perhaps one of the best articulated and presented cases for end-of-life care.

Most important, these medicalised deaths do not seem to be what people want. Polls, including one carried out in four large countries by the Kaiser Family Foundation, an American think-tank, and The Economist, find that most people in good health hope that, when the time comes, they will die at home. And few, when asked about their hopes for their final days, say that their priority is to live as long as possible. Rather, they want to die free from pain, at peace, and surrounded by loved ones for whom they are not a burden.

This is counter to what I’ve read and seen. Many patients receive hospitalized treatment that saps quality of life and renders the final days unbearable. All of this because family and friends want medicine to do everything possible to extend life where extending life is destroying life. And this is without consideration of what the loved one wants.

The Economist notes that death in the hospital means greater pain, stress, and depression for loved ones. While compared to similar patients in hospice. Death in the hospital leads to family strife and prolonged grief.

Donna was placed in hospice. She died in hospice. Her care there was loving and kind. My care from the hospice staff and her oncologist was supportive and focused on my long-term outcome. As I’ve said ‘Hospice saved my life.’

There is much to consider and learn in this short editorial. It ends with this:

But honest and open conversations with the dying should be as much a part of modern medicine as prescribing drugs or fixing broken bones. A better death means a better life, right until the end.

True that. True that.

A Guide to the Best Sipping Rums Under $50

Rum is a new stop in the sophistication of my liquor taste buds. Typical of the times and what was trending there was beer and vodka. Of course wine but truth be told I know when I have a good wine but since they are mostly French, Italian, or Spanish remembering the names escaped me.

A few years back Ward III joined our block. The bar is one of the finest cocktail bars in NYC and the owners are amazing people who over time became friends. As with friends you share and discover what they like. One of the bartenders at Ward III introduced me to Rum. Not Rum and coke but, sipping Rum served neat. Just like Rye whisky or Bourbon. I saw this review and thought I would share it with you all.

Yo, Ho, Ho, and a Bottle of Rum

Some Grief Lasts a Lifetime

From the SF Bay Times

You’ll probably always feel sad when you think of Tim. And, really, would you want it any other way? Your grief is also your link to the love that you feel for him. I think a better approach than trying to “get over” these feelings would be to respect their essential dignity. Treat your grief with respect, not as a weakness from which you should “recover.”

This fits with my view, Closure is indifference. It is denial said pretty. Here are my thoughts on this topic.

This is from The Guardian and again points to the understanding that grief is not loss but opening yourself to life.
And yet, says Julia, running away from it means we will never recover from it. Embracing it, moving through its agony, and allowing ourselves to just be while it washes over us, is the only way to survive it; because we have to feel the worst of it in order to let it change us, and then we can start to find out who we are going to be in the wake of it.

Mail to Self News Feed #1

I found the Mail to Self app a year and a half ago. It is genius in its simplicity and productivity. At the same time maniacal in the burden of its output. It is my mini me news feed.

The app is added to your phone. You enter an email address into the app. After that when you swipe up or go to share a web page, article, etc. there is a button for Mail to Self. Just tap it and whoosh you got the article URL etc. in your inbox. The workflow is this. I will keep looking at my news feed, my papers, my sites, etc. and just mail to self to read later. Not so fast. My inbox is filled and I am not reading later cuz I got the attention span of a gnat

To repair the gnat in me I am going to post twice a week some of the articles I mailed to self. This is a way to share them with my non/imaginary readers and to force me to achieve inbox zero.

Parting Shot

Angela Chen writing for the The Paris Review examines the ‘the words that bookend a life.’ Specifically she examines the West’s concept of famous last words and East where premeditated death poems (jisei) are a long tradition.

Chen points that from the start the last words of Jesus on the cross opened the entire exercise where during the Enlightenment one and all were excepted to offer up brilliance and insight minutes prior to dying.

This was in direct counter point to the Japanese. Elderly samurai and those in the upper class were spurred to compose death poem that would be shared for criticism and input. If you ask about the fear of sudden death in the Japan.

“…Narushima Chuhachiro, who started drafting death poems at fifty lest he die unprepared. Chuhachiro sent this one to his poetry teacher: “For eighty years and more, by the grace of my sovereign / and my parents, I have lived / with a tranquil heart / between the flowers and the moon.” The teacher’s response: “When you reach age ninety, correct the first line.”

Donna was in hospice for her last 18 days. I would be there daily and at night. One of the attending on the staff said that to be present at the time of death is rare. I wanted to be there less for this last words but so she would not be alone. I was home walking the dog and got a call to hurry back. The cab driver went the wrong way and I was not there for her last words or otherwise. Here is a podcast about Hospice and Beyond.

As I read Chen’s article and consider last words vs. death poems I lean toward the poem. I see my blog as my death poems albeit long form. Though I would think of it in terms of a meandering suicide note.

Parting Shots is a short article but one we may all want to consider. Either rehearse our closing act or start thinking about how we want to be remembered. I am guessing that what is left on the Internet is what will be remembered. So save wisely.

How to Find Meaning in the Face of Death

Emily Esfahani Smith writing in the The Atlantic from her book The Power of Meaning reviews the work of psychiatrist William Breitbart chairman of the Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences at Memorial Sloan Kettering. The question on top of mind when given a diagnosis of terminal illness is less about when I will die or how much pain, it is about what makes life meaningful? “Meaning that cannot be destroyed by death.”

Esfahani Smith presents recent data addressing that meaningful lives are demonstrated because of three factors, my existence is valued by others, I am driven by a sense of purpose or important life goals, and I see my path to this point as coherent and integrated. Though as I review my writings there is a struggle to find meaning and purpose.

“Psychologists and philosophers say that the path to meaning lies in connecting and contributing to something that is bigger than the self, like family, country, or God.”

Breitbart wanted to help patients build meaning and reduce suicidal ideation. His work was to create and eight session group therapy program of six to eight cancer patients. Each session was structured around set questions that the group were asked. In the first session participants were asked about moments or experiences that were meaningful. In the second session patients responded to who am I. In the final session they were asked to what part of them would going on living after death.

Breitbart went on to perform three randomized, controlled experiments on meaning centered psychotherapy. His results found this work was transformative, patients attitudes toward life and death changed with less hopelessness and anxious about death. Spiritual wellbeing improved.

Breitbart comments that the time between diagnosis and death is an opportunity for “extraordinary growth”.

Two observations from my world. After Donna died the entire world I lived in lost most of its meaning and purpose. Most of that loss is directly related to Donna but a lot of is to do with my failure to find work or find what I wanted. I live with the sense this is the end I have had all the meaning and purpose in my life. My friend Scott writes about this top at Age Spots Blog so hop over and take a look. Right now I vacillate between oh fuck to there is something here to find and uncover.

My second thought is that Breitbart is right, there is extraordinary growth between dx and death particularly when you are a caregiver for someone dying. And that growth extends well beyond the death though the experience of grief and the role it plays in knowledge acquisition and understanding of ones emotions and life.

A bonus link in the article is here, it is a “Meaning in Life as Comprehension, Purpose, and Mattering: Toward Integration and New Research Questions” A long details examination of this question by psychologists. Enjoy

Judging my grief? Move on…

This article is well outside my usual link and opinion. This was from a The Tribune India which is one I do not normally or ever read. Second the opinion here is 180 degrees opposite of my thoughts on closure.

Closure is indifference. It is denial said pretty. I subscribe that grief and loss can be a window into our loved ones, ourselves, and the world at large. This is from a Poem Unconditional by Jennifer Welwood and captures my thoughts on closure.

Unconditional
Willing to experience aloneness,
I discover connection everywhere;
Turning to face my fear,
I meet the warrior who lives within;
Opening to my loss,
I gain the embrace of the universe;
Surrendering into emptiness,

I find fullness without end.

Get Vaid writing in the The Tribune captures a societal view of grief that I had not considered.

“Oh, she is fine. She is moving on in life already,” the thinly veiled ‘judgment’ pierced through my ears as I heard someone at work talk about a friend’s widow handling her recent bereavement.”

We all grieve differently. Those of us who grieve know full well the reality of our grief and the importance to not judge others grief. Vaid is addressing the inverse of what I have witnessed the well meaning friends or family members who say it is time to move on. Date someone as if dating is a cure for loss. This article and discussion is about how people set standards for grief and expect you to live up to it, their standards.

The bigger issue here is that we must allow those to are grieving to do so at their pace and way. Only if the grieving becomes pathological and complicated then should we help them find support.

“Moving on is not a stigma or blasphemy, life moves on.”

Self-Compasion, Mindful Meditation, and AA

Take the random nature of the universe, add Amtrak, and read an amazing CV, bingo I am now taking an eight week course in self-compassion and mindful meditation.

Back to the start. I was on an Amtrak train retuning from PAX Boston and got a seat across from a young woman. It was the quite car but we chatted on and off for a couple of hours. I am the old black humored widowed guy so any attention I get from a woman is surprising. Part of our chatting was about course she was teaching which she noted may help with the grief. We did what all the cool kids do, we friended on FB.

Switching to my stalking mood I looked up her profile and the course she was teaching. In my mind there was this connection, no not to her, to the course and where I stand, sit, rest, and hate about my life. I said to myself, ‘Self this may be a chance to look deeper at your life and your goals.’ I signed up for the course. Today I am six classes in.

This video lecture by Dr. Kristin Neff is the essence of the course. There is much there to untangle and consider. Overall it speaks to ideas that may help us as we navigate life. Of course there are quite a few questions about this that I am still sorting out and how I will integrate it into my world. Overall, as with anything worth doing, there is a positive attitude one should have before casting it aside. More on that after the  course is completed. Right now this course is a friend with yet to be determined benefits.

AA vs. Self-Compassion

The Big Book
The day to day guide to sobriety

This course takes place at an austere Tibet Center. So the mood is perfect. The course is taught with a mixture of lectures (reading stuff at you), meditations, homework, and discussions.

The discussions are generally done in the “Tell us what you feel about xyz?” Which opens the floor up to the following:

‘I find that I am able to clear my mind and think about flowers.’

‘I hurt my ankle and when I meditation it seems better.’

‘I have more compassion for others who I normally wouldn’t.’

All and all these are benign statements in the universe like so much detritus, yet important to the speaker, so credit given. I found myself wondering if this was the depth that would benefit me upon reflection to learn and grown? And then my mind went to past friends from who were in AA and shared their feelings.

‘I got so blackout drunk that I woke up in the backseat of car in Atlantic City with one shoe missing.’

‘One Thanksgiving I tried to beat my dad with a turkey drumstick.’

‘My family abandoned me after I took all their savings and spent it on booze.’

Those AA shares are raw emotional statements that tell a life story from those fighting to return from the brink of profound loss and suffering. Both sets give the listener a place holder to examine life their own lives because that is what sharing does create reflection points. The later set is raw and opens wounds. The prior are statements are observational and ricochets off of the depth of self. The listener needs to dig harder in one to find meaning while the AA stories are cringe worthy they encourage reflection, deep reflection.

Then last week this sharing story exercise reveled an AA type moment where I may need to consider my harsh analysis of the sharing in this course.

A woman in answer to the lecturers question on compassion for others shared this:

‘I was with my eight year old daughter for the day and we went to YMCA to use the pool. She was being and eight year old and it was frustrating me to no end before, during, and after being in the pool. As I was drying off I notices a disabled child with her dad in the pool and thought about the love of a parent for a child and what we do. When the child and dad exited the pool I saw that the disabled child was leading the blind father to the locker room. I realized the compassion I have for myself, my daughter, and others.’

Optimism or Pessimism

This raises to the level of AA and opens up the entire compassion moment and a depth of insight. I am reminded of a joke about how to identify and optimist.

Two boys age eight are selected to determine who is the optimist. One at a time they are placed in room knee deep with horse poop. The first boy freaks out and is cowering in the corner crying. He is taken out. The second boy is put in the room and he immediately begins to dig and dig in the poop. When asked why he says, ‘With all this horse poop there must be a pony in here.”

I guess I am looking for that pony.