scattered thoughts on random doings

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I’m in the presentation stage for Twined. Perhaps more accurately, it’s ‘finishing the prep stage for the presentation stage’.

News events struck hard at others, and vicariously at me. Ferguson, MO. The Middle East, and the culpability of America and Europe in doings there. The relentless attacks on abortion and voting rights. The continual denigration of women from the right, and once in a while, from the left.

Market Basket. Never heard of it? Regional, family owned, New England supergrocer, one wing of the feuding family snatched it from the other. In response, employees and customers effectively shut down all 71 stores of the 4.5 billion company, the most successful boycott I’ve ever witnessed. With no choice, the snatching family sold to the other side, and now things are humming right along.

So, police detained Danièle Watts because they suspected the kiss she shared with her hubby was an act of prostitution. Nothing like profiling in the worst stereotypical way, and… they didn’t detain him, only her for ‘solicitation’. So much wrong with this incident.

When one copes with domestic violence or its lingering aftereffects, please respect the person’s decision-making. Not respecting it blows through boundaries that need mending. I wrote a mini-scene in the novel, not of an abuse victim, but a child accident victim. The scene:

Carissa met my questions with shrugs, evasive eyes, one-word replies, and one ‘whatever’. Hopelessness and depression brought me there once, a perception I ceded control of my life to others. My physical therapist didn’t understand intangible factors, only the kinesiology. He accused me of laziness in front of Mom and Dad. He claimed I rebelled against authority. I worked through his assholeness and learned on my own how to slice through depression.

Guided by the experience, I presented the planned treatment course as line item options for her approval. When Vickie objected to her daughter’s first no, I called a parent-PT sidebar outside the room and explained my purpose. The no meant far more to the good than a yes, providing we respected the choice.

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