Lift Up Your Hearts!

The Brain that Changes Itself: Stories of Personal Triumph from the Frontiers of Brain Science by Norman Doidge (Penguin, New York, 2007)

Neuroplasticity.

The idea that our brains are fixed, hard-wired machines was (and in many cases still is) so deeply entrenched in the scientific establishment that evidence to the contrary was not only suppressed, but often not even seen because the minds of even respectable scientists could not absorb what they were certain was impossible.  Having been familiar since the 1960s with the work of Glenn Doman and the Institutes for the Achievement of Human Potential, the idea that the human brain is continually changing itself and can recover from injury in astonishing ways did not surprise me. In fact, the only shock was that in a 400 page book on neuroplasticity and the persecution of its early pioneers I found not one mention of Doman's name. But the stories are none the less astonishing for that.

In Chapter 1 we meet woman whose vestibular system was destroyed by antibiotic side-effects.  She is freed by a sensor held on her tongue and a computerized helmet from the severely disabling feeling that she is falling all the time, even when lying flat.  That's the stuff of science fiction, but what's most astounding is that the effect lingers for a few minutes after she removes the apparatus the first time, and after several sessions she no longer needs the device. (More)

We recently returned from a lovely two weeks in Switzerland (with brief side trips to France, Germany, and Italy).  I hope eventually to post more pictures and stories, but here's a start.

Just over a week before our scheduled departure from the U.S., the Icelandic volcano, Eyjafjallajokull, threw a spanner into the works for European flights.  Porter wrestled for a while with changing our itinerary to go through airports less risky than Amsterdam's Schiphol, but with the ash cloud as unpredictable as it was, decided the best course was to hand on to what we had.  We did what we always do when there's nothing else we can do (and even when there is):  we prayed a lot.  Unlike that of our friend who needed to get to her brother's funeral (she made it), this was not a critical flight, but the primary purpose of the trip was to attend Janet's end-of-school recital, and we would have been very sad to miss it, having not yet heard any of her grad school performances. (More)

The Inn of the Sixth Happiness  (20^th Century Fox, 1958, not rated)

A sympathetic and positive portrayal of a segment of the life of Gladys Aylward, the British Christian servant girl with a powerful love of both God and China.  This small woman (incongrously but convincingly played by Ingrid Bergman) had great impact in northern China during the tumultous 1930's and 40's.  Single-handedly leading nearly 100 children over the mountains to safety during the Japanese invasion, and persuading the remote villages to comply with the new law against the footbinding of women, were but a small part of her successes.

As movies go, this one is reasonably true to the story.  I realize that's damning with faint praise, but I've learned to lower my expectations for truth from movies, which must alter events to make a convincing story fit in under three hours, and must include non-existent romantic scenes to please the audience.  Perhaps its worst crime is in making Aylward's extremely arduous life look easy.  In addition to the "normal" hardships of malnutrition and hard labor, she was beaten, tortured, shot, and severely injured in a bomb blast, but Bergman's hair is never mussed more than can be fixed with a quick flick of her fingers, and the journey across the mountains seems almost as easy as the end of The Sound of Music.

It's a fun and inspiring movie, worth watching if you also make a point of learning "the rest of the story."  As much as can be learned, anyway:  Aylward was old, with broken health and failing memory, when her story was finally written down, so much remains unknown.

Monk, the television show about obsessive-compulsive detective Adrian Monk, ran from 2002 - 2009.  We encountered it in 2007, thanks to Netflix and the suggestion of a friend, and completed the eighth and last season this month.  Part mystery, part comedy, and part fantasy, Monk ranks as the only television show for which we have seen every episode. (More)

Today's Mallard Fillmore comic inspired this post, which Li'l Writer Guy had actually been working on in the background ever since a conversation we had about the subject last night.

Mind you, I don't know any of the details of how it will work, and am only commenting on the theory that children should be covered on their parents' health insurance until they are 26 years old. (More)

I am not going to join the recent chorus of voices crying that multitasking is a bad thing.  It can relieve tedium (listening to lectures while ironing), increase efficiency (knitting while keeping an eye on swimming children), and add to enjoyment (conversing while eating).  What's more, if mothers couldn't multi-task, the whole world might crash to a halt.

Nonetheless, there is increasing evidence—in scientific studies and in my own life—that multitasking can also lead to poor performance on all tasks.  Conducting a business deal via cell phone while driving may increase your productivity, but not if it distracts you from brake lights suddenly appearing on the car ahead.  Fixing dinner while talking to a friend on the telephone may cause you to miss a critical change in her tone of voice—or to burn the meal.

I was inspired a month ago to make Pay Attention this month's resolution.  If there was a specific reason I no longer remember it, but the decision was confirmed when I read The Brain that Changes Itself, a book that showed up in my mailbox after I unexpectedly won it in a contest.  Here are some of my thoughts as I evaluate multitasking, and areas in my life where I need to be more attentive. (More)

Our six year old grandson is brilliant, of course:  great in reading, great in math, and, as those of you who know our family will agree, also great in spelling.  (Photo credit the Daleys.)

Mom knows best:  if you want to learn, you need to sleep.

A new study shows that dreaming is an important part of that process. (More)

What amazing natural phenomenon is this?

Looks to me like a NASA photo of some far-off nebula, but it's a lot closer to home.  You can find this and other photos of the erupting Icelandic volcano in this RoadRunner collection.

There's a radio show in Basel called The English Show, for English-speaking ex-pats, and last night Janet was interviewed about her upcoming recital, A Guided Evening of Medieval Music.  Stephan wrote about it, with links, and I cannot improve on what he said, so I'll quote him:

Yesterday, Janet was interviewed on the English Show at Radio X and got to explain some of what she does to the radio-listening expat community.  The entire show can be downloaded from the English Show link above or directly here.

It’s pretty large - 82 MB - but will give you a couple of on-the-air mentions of Janet’s name in various pronounciations.  At 2:15 she’s referred to as a “Gothic harpist,” which could be somewhat misleading, since she doesn’t dress in black and sport piercings, skull rings, and bullet casing belts; the brief mention after the news at about 34:00 is a little more precise.  The actual interview begins after the Tracy Chapman song at the 38:50 mark, and culminates in Janet playing a Trotto from 14th century Italy with her baby harp (”Arpa Doble”).  Her concert gets a fair bit of publicity and is mentioned again at about 55:00 in their calendar of events, alongside the Jazzfestival Basel and the Mamma Mia musical (and it’s the only free event).  I’m curious to see if extra people show up for the concert because of this interview!

I have, however, taken the liberty of extracting the parts more interesting to my particular audience.  :)  (More)

Welcome home, Discovery.  It's always a thrill; what a pity this was your penultimate flight.

Our local story of the disappearance and rescue of 11-year-old Nadia Bloom didn't stay local for long.

Mostly, I ignored it as much as possible, other than getting the occasional update for prayer purposes.  The media was going nuts.  And so were the nay-sayers, the gossips, and the fear-mongers.

To be sure, they had reason.  We've had at least two recent, high-profile cases here of "missing" children where at least one of the tearful, pleading relatives was most likely the perpetrator of a horrendous crime.  That's enough to cause a little cynicism. But cynicism and suspicion don't accomplish much, and in the end, Nadia was rescued after four days in Florida swampland by an ordinary man of faith:  faith in God, and faith that Nadia's disappearance was exactly what it appeared to be—a beloved child who adventured a little too far and needed help. (More)

Rimsky-Korsakov:  Russian Easter Overture, op. 36
Respighi:  Church Windows
Debussy:  Sunken Cathedral
Sung:  The Circle Closes

This, the last of our subscription concerts for the season, promised to be a great one.  I love the Russian Easter Overture, and the Orlando Phil did a nice job with its glorious, solemn, joyful, and triumphant Resurrection Day music.  The next two works were new to me, but I like Respighi a lot, and Debussy well enough, and they did not disappoint.  This concert was a bit different, having extra lights that projecting a lotus blossom-like image of changing colors behind the orchestra during this, the first half of the performance.  It was hardly necessary, but was simple enough not to detract from the music, and may even have enhanced it a little.

The second half of the show was another story.  This is where I was truly disappointed, because for it my expectations had been highest.  I'd loved every Stella Sung composition I'd heard, beginning with the suite she wrote for the Florida Symphony Youth Orchestra back in the 1990's.   As I said before, I've never yet met a Stella Sung work I didn't like. (More)

Can Trader Joe's be far behind?

Central Florida now has its very own Penzeys store, in the lovely Park Avenue area of Winter Park.  It opened unofficially for a few hours yesterday, and today for real; we walked through the doors an hour after opening.  I am so excited.

I know, Penzeys can be considered the Cadillac of spices, as befits the Park Avenue location.  You can certainly find herbs and spices for less money elsewhere.  But there are times when it's worth paying a little extra for quality, and quality is where Penzeys excels.  Variety, too—they have exotic herbs and spices I'd never heard of, plus a stunning variety of their own excellent blends.  They even excel in quantity, from tiny jars for the spices you use rarely, to large bags (at a commensurately lower per-ounce price) for greater needs.

It was particularly fun shopping today, as I bought only what I wanted, and in smaller quantities than usual.  Herbs and spices lose their potency after a while, but I've been accustomed to ending a Penzeys visit with a large armload, since I either (1) didn't know when I'd have another chance to get to a store, or (2) wanted to make the most of my shipping charges for an online order.  Now I can buy small amounts, and when I run out, plan a spicy date:  get to Winter Park early enough to find a good parking space, visit Winter Park Honey and other friends at the Farmer's Market, then eat breakfast at Croissant Gourmet while waiting for Penzeys to open.  Works for me.