The Pandemic Psychology from The Guardian surprised me. As I dig deeper, a Canadian Psychiatrist from UBC Department of Psychiatry published an article that I never encountered in our news media written by Steven Taylor in 2018 pre-covid era. I have so much respect for this department because they helped me reshape my faulty thinking due to brain disorder.
He interpreted that pandemics “are essentially a psychological phenomenon and about the behaviors, attitudes and emotions of people” and that “the psychological footprint is bigger than the medical footprint”.
That, Taylor says, is not to downplay the significance of the disease to those that have become sick or died, but that many more people have been psychologically affected. The analysis was fleshed out in another academic paper, published in Canadian Psychology, in which he wrote that “pandemics are not simply events in which some harmful microbe ‘goes viral’”.
He wrote: “Psychology plays a central role in pandemics, influencing the spreading and containment of diseases, and shaping pandemic-related distress and socially disruptive, divisive and potentially harmful phenomena such as panic buying, racism and protests against pandemic mitigation restrictions.”
Lesson learned: Sunday sermon is not all about the Gospel.
Ask kids how old they are and they will tell you the truth. They are honest about their age. Using their tiny fingers; they will show you the exact number. When kids learn philosophy, age is about “almost” three or … Continue reading →
Dr. Aron’s study is fascinating and she always wanted to try it. She did. The study: A heterosexual man and woman enter the lab through separate doors. They sit face to face and answer a series of increasingly personal questions. Then they … Continue reading →
Not speaking and speaking are both human ways of being in the world, and there are kinds and grades of each. there is the dumb silence of slumber or apathy; the sober silence that goes with a solemn animal face; … Continue reading →
I know I am just passing through in this life, a pilgrim. This is not my home. I should have not been born as I mentioned in my post My hero.A lot of people had a surreal experience. It just a matter of being aware or in tuned to what is happening in your body and out of your body.To cite an example, when I was just a little girl, I was having an afternoon siesta. It’s a requirement that children must have a good afternoon rest. My older siblings will ensure that we take a nap.As I lay asleep, I was looking down at my body sleeping like a baby and my other self is up on the ceiling attached by a golden thread. It was scary for a mere child and I said to myself, bring me back to my body, Now! Whump! I’m back, opened my eyes, felt a tremendous headache. That was my first awareness.It happens all the time, I just have to keep myself grounded otherwise, I will be floating in air. People call me crazy, who cares. It’s a gift. It’s nothing new. Look at all those great people such as Carl Jung, William Blake, Gopi Krishna, Padre Pio, Dag Hammarskjold, etc. who have such gift.Let me share with you what Dag wrote titled Markings:I don’t know who or what put the question I don’t know when it was put I don’t even remember answering But at that moment I did answer Yes To Someone or something And from that hour I was certain That existence is meaningful And that, therefore my life, Is self-surrender Had a goal.Think about this.This is in response to Daily Prompt: Surreal. Come and join us, you’ll discover who you are.
You’re having a nightmare, and have to choose between three doors. Pick one, and tell us what you find on the other side.
Dreams, I like dreaming even if it turns into a nightmare. Nightmares are just dreams, nothing to be scared about. It’s scarier when I am wide awake having to deal with everyday living. Pick a door? When I pick a particular entry that opens to the unknown and enter it, what’s behind one door is connected to the other gate. It does not really matter which door I choose. This is what I call a dream within a dream. I can quickly go back to a dream and continue dreaming.
There is a particular dream that is etched in the most recesses of my mind, body, and soul. The time was the early year of 1998. I was temporarily living in the basement of my friend, Jan, as I was on my way to be of service to ABC (AIDS Baby Centre) in Chiangrai, Thailand. That basement was hellish, but I told Jan, I will turn hell into heaven. And I did. Jan just loves how I transformed her basement into heaven.
About the dream, skipping the details, this is the ending: I opened my eyes, and I saw a single EYE surrounded by luminous light. The Eye was staring at me. I don’t know how long I started back. And suddenly, fear kicked in, and I said: “Lord, I am not ready for this.” Then I closed my eyes and went to deep dreamless slumber. I woke up and missed out the better part of the morning, it was almost noon.
Ever since I become fixated with eyes. I look at everyone’s eyes to see if I could capture that eye in someone else. I am longing to go back to that “Eye” dream. I am now ready to look straight to that “Eye.” As a result, my nightly prayer before I lay down to sleep, my last words are: “Lord, come and visit me in my dreams.”