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mood swings
Mar. 5th, 2007 01:26 pmAlmost every day we hear of people dying in Iraq from some sort of bombing. I haven't grown complacent about it, but when I heard today that the 28 people killed were in a book market, where Sunni & Shiite stall owners have been working together peacably, I was really upset. I know rationally that it's no worse to have killed people who like books than to kill people who like food or people who go to services at mosques, but it was my gut reaction, and it has left me feeling ashamed.
A couple of weeks ago I got the (impractical) idea that it would be fun to become a physical therapist. I've started looking into programs, wondering whether anyone would hire a 56 year old novice (which is how old I'd be by the time I finished studying) and stuff like that. What hadn't clicked until this morning, when a friend pointed it out, is that being a physical therapist is a lot like being a teacher. You have to be able to communicate what you want the patient to do, motivate someone who is afraid or lazy or hates to feel the pain of the exercises, and so forth. I already spend time every day thinking about muscles and joints and the interaction of body parts, but I don't consider myself to be a good teacher and I probably would quickly become exasperated with a patient who didn't work hard at the treatment. Discouraged again, at least temporarily.
On the other hand, 650 years ago somebody was having a good day. I find it hard not to imagine the middle lady thinking "I'll just strut on over and give you a high five."
[I've noticed that sometimes this image is there, and sometimes not. I have no idea why.
here's the url]
http://vieuxchamps.com/persona/enlarged/wg/wpic4.php
(I don't read 14th century French, so I don't know what's going on in the text above them.
They're on the bottom right of folio 80
http://image.ox.ac.uk/show?collection=bodleian&manuscript=msbodl264)
A couple of weeks ago I got the (impractical) idea that it would be fun to become a physical therapist. I've started looking into programs, wondering whether anyone would hire a 56 year old novice (which is how old I'd be by the time I finished studying) and stuff like that. What hadn't clicked until this morning, when a friend pointed it out, is that being a physical therapist is a lot like being a teacher. You have to be able to communicate what you want the patient to do, motivate someone who is afraid or lazy or hates to feel the pain of the exercises, and so forth. I already spend time every day thinking about muscles and joints and the interaction of body parts, but I don't consider myself to be a good teacher and I probably would quickly become exasperated with a patient who didn't work hard at the treatment. Discouraged again, at least temporarily.
On the other hand, 650 years ago somebody was having a good day. I find it hard not to imagine the middle lady thinking "I'll just strut on over and give you a high five."
[I've noticed that sometimes this image is there, and sometimes not. I have no idea why.
here's the url]
http://vieuxchamps.com/persona/enlarged/wg/wpic4.php
(I don't read 14th century French, so I don't know what's going on in the text above them.
They're on the bottom right of folio 80
http://image.ox.ac.uk/show?collection=bodleian&manuscript=msbodl264)
