Check out Pete Theakston’s photography. It’s great work. And if you’re in the Netherlands, look him up and have him shoot your portrait. He’d love it.
I don’t have a science degree, but I like to learn about neurology and how the brain affects how we manage information.
My last name is Witteveen. First name Jeremy.
Many people with long last names (or foreign ones) can attest that their names are misspelled an inordinate amount of times throughout their lives.
It doesn’t matter if my last name is written on a piece of paper in front of someone. This past Tuesday, my doctor had my paperwork in front of her, and she wrote out four prescriptions and all of them she wrote “Wittenveen” (she added an extra N).
This is a common misspelling of Witteveen. There must be something in the brain, maybe it’s an American English speaking brain, but nonetheless, people can’t spell it even when it’s right in front of them. What are the triggers that prevent our minds from effectively copying information? What is it that adds information to something when going from eye to brain to hand?
Jeremy is also misspelled constantly. It’s also mispronounced.
How is it that we’re expected to “believe” that books like the bible were copied precisely as originally written, when incredibly smart and educated people can’t do it?
Listening to a loved one is a difficult task. It requires an attempt to be selfless for the selfishness of another.
The currency of Listening can be a very valuable commodity. I’m sure it’s been written about a thousand times in a thousand places.
Matthew Arnold’s “The Buried Life” is one of my favorite poems of all time. It embraces the difficulty ability to listen through the cacophony and speed of life, even to those who mean the most to us.
Some people have different listening characteristics. One that I dislike is the person who thinks they constantly have to identify with your expressed feeling or emotion.
For instance, Me, “I have to have an echocardiogram done, because my doctor is worried my heart wall has thickened.”
Other person, “I had to have an echo once; they aren’t that bad.”
I just told you two things. One was procedure. The other was a determinable problem that could effect my health. I really don’t care if you had one before. The reason I told you about it is my doctor has worried me about my health.
While it may prove to me that you heard one part of my sentence, it only shows that you don’t care about my personal feelings, emotions and character.
Try being a listener like what an echocardiogram does and not be a listener like an unplugged echocardiogram machine. Search for the details of the heart. Plug yourself in, and look deep inside. This is what will help you determine the mental health of your loved one.
What a contrived attempt to say something deep.
Have a nice day.