Monday, May 7, 2007
Ever since delving into...
...yesterday's edition of The New York Times Magazine and discovering the article on wisdom and The Wisdom Scorecard, I haven't been able to get the subject of wisdom, partially as it pertains to Mom's and my scores on the test, out of my thoughts.
This morning at 0200 my mother awoke me as she stood over my bed like her own specter, breathing heavily, not a "wise" action for her to take. Aside from scaring the bejesus out of me and worrying me, then insisting, during a half-hour argument which I, admittedly, initiated and fueled, that I had told her to awaken me at 0200, I couldn't get back to sleep, even though I was due to arise at 0630 in order to prepare to do some early morning business. The primary reason I couldn't resettle myself in bed was because my mother had awakened me from a vivid dream in which she and I were squaring off on the definition of wisdom on a proscenium in front of an audience of academicians. This was a dream, so any semblance to reality ends here. Our discussion, of which only wisps remain in my memory, involved us bringing a variety of ridiculous images to bear on behalf of our separate arguments, images which immediately materialized. I remember two of these: Butterflies, the mention of which invoked hordes of glittering indigo butterflies drifting through the theater; the other was the mention of patterns of silverware, upon which members of the audience hoisted and waved silver utensils which displayed each member's preferred pattern. My mother mentioned the butterflies. I mentioned the silverware and argued for the proposition that the pattern "Florentine" best exemplified the definition of wisdom. Don't ask, please.
In the fading wake of this perplexing dream, I decided to head out to the living room, fire up the computer and reread both the article on wisdom and my posts [here and here] about Mom's and my experience with the test. Two and a half hours later, it occurred to me that the test composer, Dr. Monika Ardelt, might find our results interesting. I composed an email that sketched my mother's and my situation and cued Dr. Ardelt to my two posts of yesterday. I mentioned the disconnect between my perception of my mother's and my own wisdom and the test's scoring. I then said, in part, that "in contrast to the [NYT] article, our results seem to shed somewhat more light on the existence of observable wisdom in the lightly demented elderly, at least, and might further elucidate the definition of wisdom in those of advanced age."
To my surprised delight, she responded to my email. I found what she wrote so interesting that I thought some of my readers might also appreciate it. I asked Dr. Ardelt for permission to quote in my journal the following three paragraphs from her email, to which she graciously assented [Please Take Note: Her correspondence is automatically copyrighted under her name as of today's date. If you wish to repeat what she's written, please seek permission from her through her email address listed at the link above attached to her name.]:
If you've taken the test and find it at all intriguing, even negatively intriguing, I urge you to read the paper Dr. Ardelt published on the test, mentioned in her quote above. As you read it you will discover that the New York Times Magazine article on science's attempts to qualify and quantify wisdom compares to Dr. Ardelt's paper as a comic book version of Moby Dick would compare to the original. Dr. Ardelt's article describes, in detail, the pursuit that led to the test and the history of the development of the test. Along the way are many thought provoking paragraphs about psycho-science's attempts to pre-define wisdom in order to understand exactly that which it is seeking and why the search was initiated. Although not specifically addressed in the paper, it's a good idea to keep in mind that this particular search for wisdom focuses on its applicability to human psychology, not cyber-psychology, although, as I read, I wondered if it could have cross-applicability.
The article is loaded with quotes, observations and descriptions that, if closely attended, can whirl you round and round in an exhilarating, contemplative dance of wisdom-wondering. In the depths of the article, I suddenly developed sympathy for Vivian Clayton's final decision to abandon the study of wisdom, despite her clear knack for it.
The test is presented in a format that further documents a lot about how it was developed. Within the article, scoring is explained. Its various stages of usefulness are delineated. Finally, if you took the test and found yourself scoffing at it, your scoffing is probably addressed within the article. Reading the article is rather like following a topographical map of psycho-science seeking its Holy Grail.
If you find yourself wanting to contact Dr. Ardelt, she has asked me to note that she will be unavailable through her email address at her linked page, above, from May 9 - May 20, so responses will not be immediate
I just ushered my mother to bed. I kidded her about her determination to awaken me long before dawn this morning and added, "I'm telling you now, Mom, tomorrow morning I do not want you to awaken me at 0200. Remember this, please: If you awaken at 0200 and have an unbearable urge to awaken me, I did not ask you to do this and you do so at your own peril!"
My mother grinned. "Well, then," she responded, "how about 0300?"
Wise of her to ask.
Later.
This morning at 0200 my mother awoke me as she stood over my bed like her own specter, breathing heavily, not a "wise" action for her to take. Aside from scaring the bejesus out of me and worrying me, then insisting, during a half-hour argument which I, admittedly, initiated and fueled, that I had told her to awaken me at 0200, I couldn't get back to sleep, even though I was due to arise at 0630 in order to prepare to do some early morning business. The primary reason I couldn't resettle myself in bed was because my mother had awakened me from a vivid dream in which she and I were squaring off on the definition of wisdom on a proscenium in front of an audience of academicians. This was a dream, so any semblance to reality ends here. Our discussion, of which only wisps remain in my memory, involved us bringing a variety of ridiculous images to bear on behalf of our separate arguments, images which immediately materialized. I remember two of these: Butterflies, the mention of which invoked hordes of glittering indigo butterflies drifting through the theater; the other was the mention of patterns of silverware, upon which members of the audience hoisted and waved silver utensils which displayed each member's preferred pattern. My mother mentioned the butterflies. I mentioned the silverware and argued for the proposition that the pattern "Florentine" best exemplified the definition of wisdom. Don't ask, please.
In the fading wake of this perplexing dream, I decided to head out to the living room, fire up the computer and reread both the article on wisdom and my posts [here and here] about Mom's and my experience with the test. Two and a half hours later, it occurred to me that the test composer, Dr. Monika Ardelt, might find our results interesting. I composed an email that sketched my mother's and my situation and cued Dr. Ardelt to my two posts of yesterday. I mentioned the disconnect between my perception of my mother's and my own wisdom and the test's scoring. I then said, in part, that "in contrast to the [NYT] article, our results seem to shed somewhat more light on the existence of observable wisdom in the lightly demented elderly, at least, and might further elucidate the definition of wisdom in those of advanced age."
To my surprised delight, she responded to my email. I found what she wrote so interesting that I thought some of my readers might also appreciate it. I asked Dr. Ardelt for permission to quote in my journal the following three paragraphs from her email, to which she graciously assented [Please Take Note: Her correspondence is automatically copyrighted under her name as of today's date. If you wish to repeat what she's written, please seek permission from her through her email address listed at the link above attached to her name.]:
About the wisdom test: First, the test is not copyrighted, but the NYT probably wanted to make sure that it could not be copied. I did not ask for this. In fact, the test is published in one of my articles on the “Empirical Assessment of a Three-dimensional Wisdom Scale,” which can be downloaded from my web page [at this address; it's the fifth bullet down under Selected Publications; in addition, you might want to take note of her other articles, all of which have intriguing titles.].Her explanation that the test "works better in the aggregate" certainly makes sense and was welcome news, since the wisdom article in NYT didn't make this clear; it insinuated, instead, that the test was designed to court the individual over the group. I think it's important, too, to take special note of Dr. Ardelt's statement: "Because of the social desirability bias, I never tell my respondents that this test measures 'wisdom.'" In opposition to this, NYT introduced the test as an invitation to score one's individual wisdom quotient, clearly not the original intent of the test. Regarding "social desirability": Because I took pains to mention in my second post the process to which my brain was probably subject the second time I took the test, I was amused at her discussion of honest answering. My brain is particularly adept at flattering me as its host and continues to go to great lengths to do this. At this time in my life I'm not concerned with reining it in...an indication, I think, of at least one area in which my mother's wisdom outstrips my own.
Second, the test works better in the aggregate than as a test for an individual wisdom score. Yes, "misdiagnoses" in wisdom will occur, particularly if people answer according to social desirability, which your mother apparently did not, itself a sign of wisdom. Because of the social desirability bias, I never tell my respondents that this test measures "wisdom."
Is your mother wiser than you, although the test told you that you are wiser than her? I do not know. This depends in part on the "honesty" of your answers (not that I doubt your honesty, but it is quite easy to paint a more ideal image of ourselves than we really are) and in part on the definition and measurement of wisdom. I am the first to admit that my measurement of wisdom is not perfect, but it works quite well in the aggregate and it helps me to identify people relatively high and relatively low on wisdom.
If you've taken the test and find it at all intriguing, even negatively intriguing, I urge you to read the paper Dr. Ardelt published on the test, mentioned in her quote above. As you read it you will discover that the New York Times Magazine article on science's attempts to qualify and quantify wisdom compares to Dr. Ardelt's paper as a comic book version of Moby Dick would compare to the original. Dr. Ardelt's article describes, in detail, the pursuit that led to the test and the history of the development of the test. Along the way are many thought provoking paragraphs about psycho-science's attempts to pre-define wisdom in order to understand exactly that which it is seeking and why the search was initiated. Although not specifically addressed in the paper, it's a good idea to keep in mind that this particular search for wisdom focuses on its applicability to human psychology, not cyber-psychology, although, as I read, I wondered if it could have cross-applicability.
The article is loaded with quotes, observations and descriptions that, if closely attended, can whirl you round and round in an exhilarating, contemplative dance of wisdom-wondering. In the depths of the article, I suddenly developed sympathy for Vivian Clayton's final decision to abandon the study of wisdom, despite her clear knack for it.
The test is presented in a format that further documents a lot about how it was developed. Within the article, scoring is explained. Its various stages of usefulness are delineated. Finally, if you took the test and found yourself scoffing at it, your scoffing is probably addressed within the article. Reading the article is rather like following a topographical map of psycho-science seeking its Holy Grail.
If you find yourself wanting to contact Dr. Ardelt, she has asked me to note that she will be unavailable through her email address at her linked page, above, from May 9 - May 20, so responses will not be immediate
I just ushered my mother to bed. I kidded her about her determination to awaken me long before dawn this morning and added, "I'm telling you now, Mom, tomorrow morning I do not want you to awaken me at 0200. Remember this, please: If you awaken at 0200 and have an unbearable urge to awaken me, I did not ask you to do this and you do so at your own peril!"
My mother grinned. "Well, then," she responded, "how about 0300?"
Wise of her to ask.
Later.
guilt, caretaker, eating, drinking, dying
Sounds like another movie directed by Ang Lee, doesn't it, only probably not much comedy in this one, unless you count irony. It's a string of search terms someone punched into Google which led the searcher to my site.
An intriguing string, which is why I'm mentioning it; sounds like it encompasses just about everything to do with caretaking/caregiving. I couldn't help but ponder each word in the string. Following are my off-the-cuff thoughts:
Later.
An intriguing string, which is why I'm mentioning it; sounds like it encompasses just about everything to do with caretaking/caregiving. I couldn't help but ponder each word in the string. Following are my off-the-cuff thoughts:
guilt: Everyone who is a caregiver, including professional caregivers, and everyone who knows a caregiver, sometimes including the care recipient, experiences guilt over the situation. The caregiver is often afflicted with almost non-stop guilt, not being able to ever avoid the situation. Most of the guilt clusters around the following concerns:What a movie this string would make! Hopefully my generation is becoming so aware of caregiving that several of us will be inspired to make movies about caregiving and be bold enough to call them movies about caregiving.caretaker:
- Am I doing enough for my care recipient;
- Am I doing enough for myself;
- Am I the cause of others I know not being particularly interested in becoming involved;
- Am I explaining enough to whomever is taking over care of my recipient for me that I won't return to a recipient who is on the brink of a health crisis precipitated by neglect, mishandling and/or injury;
- Why can't I feel constantly good about what I'm doing;
- Why can't I feel constantly good about having someone take care of me?
eating:
- What is a caretaker, anyway;
- Why are landscaping caretakers so much more, hmmm..., well, happy about their accomplishments and satisfied at the end of the day than I am;
- Am I taking too much care, or too little, of my care recipient or myself;
- Is there such a thing as "too much care";
- What if someone for whom I suspect I will be taking care in the future no longer wishes to be "independent", despite society insisting that she is capable of independence;
- How reliable is society's determination versus my future care recipient's determination regarding the desirability of her independence;
- Am I a "bad" caretaker if I can't take it, anymore, and turn my care recipient over to someone else, like professionals;
- Is caretaking "bad" for my caretaking relative;
- Is it "bad" for the care recipient?
drinking:
- Am I stress eating because I'm a caregiver;
- Is stress eating "bad" for me;
- Am I feeding my care recipient the "right" foods;
- If my care recipient is very old, strong willed, continues to have a hearty appetite and insists on foods that her doctors may not recommend, is that okay;
- What are the "right" foods;
- How important is it to stick to the "right" foods under these circumstances;
- How important is the food=pleasure equation to the very old and/or very ill;
- If my care recipient is in facilitized care and her institutional diet is clearly abhorrent to her to the point that she isn't getting enough nutrition, can I do anything;
- Why is institutionalized food, particularly for the aged and infirm, so bad and does it have to be?
dying:
- Am I stress drinking for desperately needed and little provided respite because I'm a caregiver;
- If it provides a measure of relief, is it really "bad" for me;
- What about hydration and my care recipient...who can absolutely tell me what is proper hydration for the elderly and/or infirm;
- Will these hydration directives change as my care recipient ages and her health conditions change;
- If my care recipient wants to drink alcoholic beverages, is it okay;
- If my care recipient is an alcoholic and still able to provide herself with her preferred method of self-anesthesia, what should I do;
- What can I do, if this is the case?
- Will caregiving contribute to an earlier death for me than I otherwise could have expected;
- How am I going to know when my care recipient is approaching or in the "active dying phase";
- What do I do when this happens;
- Do I even want to be present as my care recipient dies;
- Is it okay if I don't want to be present;
- Can I trust hospice services to ensure a comfortable, pain free "active dying phase";
- Have I somehow, accidentally contributed to an earlier death for my care recipient than would be true if my care recipient were under someone else's care;
- After my care recipient's death, will I be so overwhelmed with grief and exhaustion that I will have trouble carrying on;
- If, after her death, I am relieved, what does this say about me;
- How will my attitudes toward death change after having accompanied my care recipient through to her death?
Later.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
"And the winner is..."
...rather, the results are: My mother scored 3.5 on the The Wisdom Scorecard, the wisdom test mentioned in the immediately previous post. This places her in the category of "relatively moderate wisdom".
My initial intention had been to podcast her taking the test and what I expected would include an animated discussion, as well as print out the questions for her. Seems the author of the test, Dr. Monika Ardelt, is zealous enough of her copyright so that it is impossible to even copy/paste the questions as they appear. Any attempt to print within the pages or save the pages to one's hard drive and print them yield similar dismal results. Since I have a great respect for copyright, I decided it would be unfair to podcast my reading of the questions. I did, though, type out the questions and responses for my mother so that, as I read them aloud, she could follow along. I figured this would aid her in her deliberation and I think I was right. I was wrong about the possibility of discussion. My mother had no problem choosing answers and the little discussion in which we indulged was beside the point of the test.
I was surprised by her results, since I scored higher, at 4.3, than she. I consider my mother, for many reasons, much wiser than me. The results of the test haven't shaken my regard. Although my mother waffled almost not at all over her choice of answers, one aspect of her answering involved decidedly avoiding absolutes. For instance: Answers included five options, topped and bottomed by either "Strongly agree" and "Strongly Disagree" or "Definitely true of myself" and "Not true of myself". Mom consistently chose the less superlative answers. Throughout the entire 39 question test she chose only one "Strongly Disagree", no "Strongly agree"'s, three "Not true"'s and no "Definitely true"'s. I consider this wise. She's lived long enough and experienced enough so that she knows that human nature can turn on a dime, if the circumstances are right. I think she believes it's best not to set herself up for unmanageable surprises by assuming that she and her circumstances are never going to change. It shouldn't surprise anyone to know that my answers were littered with absolutes. Mom also chose a high number of "Neutral"'s and "About half-way true"'s, for, I'm sure, the same reason she avoided the absolutes. As well, as she mentioned once, it's possible that she's felt offensive or "less wise" toward someone in the past but can't, now, remember that she has. I did not counter that the test was probably designed to reflect present opinions, feelings and attitudes. I thought of doing this but figured this would sway her interpretation of the test. I was thinking that perhaps the test was designed to reflect, in some subterranean way, whether someone was deliberating over her present state or a panorama of all states through which she's lived. I think, now, I was wrong about this, but, well, whatever.
Because I was surprised by her results versus mine, I decided to take the test again, this time noting my answers. Although I knew, being one of those people who is good at taking tests, my brain had probably figured out what were the "wisest" answers, I was hoping I'd remember, as I trudged once again through the statements, what I'd previously answered and, as well, feel the same as I did the first time. No such luck. The second time through I scored 4.5. I suspect this means my brain had autonomically begun to figure out how to "beat" the test, if such a thing could be said about this test. My observation also informed me that, on some of the questions on which I think I previously avoided absolutes, this time I chose absolutes, "knowing" that these were more reflective of me. Chances are, they are simply more reflective of my brain deciding that "wisdom" is a desired quality, one which I cherish, this is a test of wisdom, my brain has been trained to a certain "test taking wisdom" that allows it to perform well on such challenges, obviously better as it repeats a particular test, and it intervened in my memory and my desire to duplicate my previous answers and results.
I remembered, after our excursion into this attempt to measure wisdom, that I'd written about wisdom and Ancients over at the essay section of this group of sites. The link will take you to the essay, if you're interested. I reread it to see if my ruminations have changed on this issue. They haven't. I continue to believe that Age and Experience no more confer wisdom than does any other condition of being human. I also remain unsure about what does confer wisdom.
In case you're wondering why I consider my mother wiser than me, despite the results of the test, here are some (further, considering that I've already posed others) reasons:
In considering the subject of wisdom I remember the following episode: When I was in my first year of college a friend of mine was pulled out to sea by an undertow and drowned. I can't remember exactly how many people dove in to save him, but at least one of those men died. My friend's body was never recovered. Were those who attempted to save him, especially the one or more who died, wise or foolish? What about other life circumstances? Was Van Gogh's life wise or foolish? Suppose Van Gogh's work had somehow never been discovered and/or lauded, as happens with the work of some dedicated, talented, accomplished artists? Wise or foolish life?
Maybe wisdom will never be amenable to being tested on paper...maybe it can only be recognized as we observe our own and others' pursuit of life, and, even then, maybe it can't be recognized as easily or definitively as we'd prefer.
Maybe Mom and I will discover that the magazine article comes to a similar conclusion...
...later.
My initial intention had been to podcast her taking the test and what I expected would include an animated discussion, as well as print out the questions for her. Seems the author of the test, Dr. Monika Ardelt, is zealous enough of her copyright so that it is impossible to even copy/paste the questions as they appear. Any attempt to print within the pages or save the pages to one's hard drive and print them yield similar dismal results. Since I have a great respect for copyright, I decided it would be unfair to podcast my reading of the questions. I did, though, type out the questions and responses for my mother so that, as I read them aloud, she could follow along. I figured this would aid her in her deliberation and I think I was right. I was wrong about the possibility of discussion. My mother had no problem choosing answers and the little discussion in which we indulged was beside the point of the test.
I was surprised by her results, since I scored higher, at 4.3, than she. I consider my mother, for many reasons, much wiser than me. The results of the test haven't shaken my regard. Although my mother waffled almost not at all over her choice of answers, one aspect of her answering involved decidedly avoiding absolutes. For instance: Answers included five options, topped and bottomed by either "Strongly agree" and "Strongly Disagree" or "Definitely true of myself" and "Not true of myself". Mom consistently chose the less superlative answers. Throughout the entire 39 question test she chose only one "Strongly Disagree", no "Strongly agree"'s, three "Not true"'s and no "Definitely true"'s. I consider this wise. She's lived long enough and experienced enough so that she knows that human nature can turn on a dime, if the circumstances are right. I think she believes it's best not to set herself up for unmanageable surprises by assuming that she and her circumstances are never going to change. It shouldn't surprise anyone to know that my answers were littered with absolutes. Mom also chose a high number of "Neutral"'s and "About half-way true"'s, for, I'm sure, the same reason she avoided the absolutes. As well, as she mentioned once, it's possible that she's felt offensive or "less wise" toward someone in the past but can't, now, remember that she has. I did not counter that the test was probably designed to reflect present opinions, feelings and attitudes. I thought of doing this but figured this would sway her interpretation of the test. I was thinking that perhaps the test was designed to reflect, in some subterranean way, whether someone was deliberating over her present state or a panorama of all states through which she's lived. I think, now, I was wrong about this, but, well, whatever.
Because I was surprised by her results versus mine, I decided to take the test again, this time noting my answers. Although I knew, being one of those people who is good at taking tests, my brain had probably figured out what were the "wisest" answers, I was hoping I'd remember, as I trudged once again through the statements, what I'd previously answered and, as well, feel the same as I did the first time. No such luck. The second time through I scored 4.5. I suspect this means my brain had autonomically begun to figure out how to "beat" the test, if such a thing could be said about this test. My observation also informed me that, on some of the questions on which I think I previously avoided absolutes, this time I chose absolutes, "knowing" that these were more reflective of me. Chances are, they are simply more reflective of my brain deciding that "wisdom" is a desired quality, one which I cherish, this is a test of wisdom, my brain has been trained to a certain "test taking wisdom" that allows it to perform well on such challenges, obviously better as it repeats a particular test, and it intervened in my memory and my desire to duplicate my previous answers and results.
I remembered, after our excursion into this attempt to measure wisdom, that I'd written about wisdom and Ancients over at the essay section of this group of sites. The link will take you to the essay, if you're interested. I reread it to see if my ruminations have changed on this issue. They haven't. I continue to believe that Age and Experience no more confer wisdom than does any other condition of being human. I also remain unsure about what does confer wisdom.
In case you're wondering why I consider my mother wiser than me, despite the results of the test, here are some (further, considering that I've already posed others) reasons:
- She does not allow my emotionality and confusion over various issues, sometimes and especially involving family, to affect her phlegmatic approach to these issues;
- She is less inclined than I to initially resist confusion if it occurs;
- She has an even stronger sense of herself than I do of myself, and, believe me, I have a very strong sense of myself;
- She is not apt to be thrown by anything; I can still be thrown by some things.
- I have lately learned that she is more forgiving than me, even though I think I'm more forgiving than most.
In considering the subject of wisdom I remember the following episode: When I was in my first year of college a friend of mine was pulled out to sea by an undertow and drowned. I can't remember exactly how many people dove in to save him, but at least one of those men died. My friend's body was never recovered. Were those who attempted to save him, especially the one or more who died, wise or foolish? What about other life circumstances? Was Van Gogh's life wise or foolish? Suppose Van Gogh's work had somehow never been discovered and/or lauded, as happens with the work of some dedicated, talented, accomplished artists? Wise or foolish life?
Maybe wisdom will never be amenable to being tested on paper...maybe it can only be recognized as we observe our own and others' pursuit of life, and, even then, maybe it can't be recognized as easily or definitively as we'd prefer.
Maybe Mom and I will discover that the magazine article comes to a similar conclusion...
...later.
I consider my mother wise.
This probably doesn't surprise any of my readers. What may surprise some of you is that I consider her no less wise in her traipsing through dementia than I did before her mini-stroke took a toll on certain of her brain functions. In some ways, I consider her wiser now than before; not because of her dementia, but because she's probably at least a decade older than she was when she mini-stroked and she's continued to be capable of allowing life to widen her focus, despite her dementia.
Thus, it is with much delight that I discovered that the online edition of today's New York Times features a quiz that purports to measure one's wisdom. My intention is, of course, today, to administer it to my mother and see where she falls on the following 5 point scale:
When I think about how I define my mother's wisdom, flexibility of outlook is certainly a factor. I think most cultures would agree with this, but, recently, while Mom and I have been reading some books on the development of Islam, particularly a valorous attempt at biography entitled Muhammad: A Prophet for Our Time written by Karen Armstrong, it has become apparent to me that flexibility of outlook is not always prized, nor considered wise, as it was not within nomadic, tribal societies for some centuries previous to Muhammad's birth. Specifically realizing this confers some circumspection on ultimate measures of wisdom at any time within any group of people. This week's New York Times Magazine also includes a long article about the nature of wisdom, which is being studied by scientists. The introductory blurb says, in part, "The trick lies not just in measuring something so fuzzy but also in defining it in the first place." I haven't yet read the article, although I will. It's likely that, after administering the wisdom test to my mother, I'll read it aloud for both of us so we can discuss it.
The subject of my consideration of my mother's wisdom is curious in itself. I have always considered her wise to some extent, primarily because I have always trusted her. I'm sure this is not a good objective measure of wisdom since kids tend to trust their parents, even when they learn a suspicious and fatalistic outlook from them. This trust of what can become a disastrous outlook is usually hardwired and difficult for thought or experience to change. Within the last few or more decades I've also become aware that my view of her wisdom is always through eyes that are 34 years younger than hers; thus, I've learned that whatever she's packed into those 34 years can be, at any particular time, unimaginable to me.
I'm curious, though, to know whether someone else's measure of wisdom will come to the same conclusion to which I've come in regards to my mother, especially after taking the quiz myself and wondering, as I read the statements, how my mother would apply them to herself and just how "wise" any of the 39 attitudes actually are, factoring for particular persons and societies. I was surprised to find that I can't predict how she'll answer...or, even, whether she'll find the test interesting and amusing enough to finish. It's possible that she'll laugh and say something like, "Goodness, child, I have no idea! What's the next statement?"
1330 will mark her 12-hour-night-sleep mark, not including the half hour she read to herself in bed before her light went out (she was wholly engrossed, last night, in our viewing of the Planet Earth series, and insisted on seeing it through to the end, except the episodes about the future). I will awaken her with news of the questionnaire and I'm sure she'll be intrigued enough to want to sample it immediately after breakfast, so I'm hoping to report on the results, including any attendant conversation, much later today, possibly past midnight, depending on how her day goes.
Which reminds me: Yesterday evening, immediately after her nap, she reported to me that she felt, "much better" than she's been feeling the last few days, which surprised me. In a recent post I reported that she'd seemed, over some days, hazier than usual, thus, I've been surveying her, almost to distraction, every hour or so when she's awake about how she feels, despite her ruddy physical appearance. She's been steadily answering, "Fine, just fine," sometimes giving me that sarcastic, "Why are you asking?" look. When she reported to me that she was suddenly feeling "much better", then added that she'd been feeling "lousy" over the last few days, I was beside myself.
"Why then, Mom, when I've been asking, have you been telling me that you feel fine?"
"Well, it didn't seem like I felt that bad."
"But, you're telling me," I continued, "that, now, looking back, you actually were feeling 'that bad.'"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"You know, Mom," I directed her, "when you're not feeling good and I ask, you need to tell me."
"I suppose so..." she responded, giving me a wary glance.
I laughed. "Okay," I said, "what was behind that glance?"
"I'm wondering what you could have done about it."
Good point. I was noticing something different, but I have to admit that nothing I was noticing was unusual for her, certainly not enough for me to worry or haul her into the doctor. I conceded to her on this. My experience tells me that it's more likely than not that, even if a doctor had "discovered" something, maybe lower than usual hemoglobin or, if some sort of brain scan was prescribed, activity that was a little different than usual, nothing of consequence would be done as a result and, within days, Mom would be "back to normal", doctor or no.
"For future reference," though, I said, "when I ask, and ask so often, let me know when you're not feeling your normal self, okay?"
Again, that wary glance. "What does that mean?" Her tone was challenging.
"Hmmm..." I said. "Maybe that means that I need to be a little more specific in my prying."
"Good idea," she agreed.
Maybe that's some of what wisdom is.
Later.
Thus, it is with much delight that I discovered that the online edition of today's New York Times features a quiz that purports to measure one's wisdom. My intention is, of course, today, to administer it to my mother and see where she falls on the following 5 point scale:
- 1-3: relatively low wisdom
- 3-4: relatively moderate wisdom
- 4-5: relatively high wisdom
When I think about how I define my mother's wisdom, flexibility of outlook is certainly a factor. I think most cultures would agree with this, but, recently, while Mom and I have been reading some books on the development of Islam, particularly a valorous attempt at biography entitled Muhammad: A Prophet for Our Time written by Karen Armstrong, it has become apparent to me that flexibility of outlook is not always prized, nor considered wise, as it was not within nomadic, tribal societies for some centuries previous to Muhammad's birth. Specifically realizing this confers some circumspection on ultimate measures of wisdom at any time within any group of people. This week's New York Times Magazine also includes a long article about the nature of wisdom, which is being studied by scientists. The introductory blurb says, in part, "The trick lies not just in measuring something so fuzzy but also in defining it in the first place." I haven't yet read the article, although I will. It's likely that, after administering the wisdom test to my mother, I'll read it aloud for both of us so we can discuss it.
The subject of my consideration of my mother's wisdom is curious in itself. I have always considered her wise to some extent, primarily because I have always trusted her. I'm sure this is not a good objective measure of wisdom since kids tend to trust their parents, even when they learn a suspicious and fatalistic outlook from them. This trust of what can become a disastrous outlook is usually hardwired and difficult for thought or experience to change. Within the last few or more decades I've also become aware that my view of her wisdom is always through eyes that are 34 years younger than hers; thus, I've learned that whatever she's packed into those 34 years can be, at any particular time, unimaginable to me.
I'm curious, though, to know whether someone else's measure of wisdom will come to the same conclusion to which I've come in regards to my mother, especially after taking the quiz myself and wondering, as I read the statements, how my mother would apply them to herself and just how "wise" any of the 39 attitudes actually are, factoring for particular persons and societies. I was surprised to find that I can't predict how she'll answer...or, even, whether she'll find the test interesting and amusing enough to finish. It's possible that she'll laugh and say something like, "Goodness, child, I have no idea! What's the next statement?"
1330 will mark her 12-hour-night-sleep mark, not including the half hour she read to herself in bed before her light went out (she was wholly engrossed, last night, in our viewing of the Planet Earth series, and insisted on seeing it through to the end, except the episodes about the future). I will awaken her with news of the questionnaire and I'm sure she'll be intrigued enough to want to sample it immediately after breakfast, so I'm hoping to report on the results, including any attendant conversation, much later today, possibly past midnight, depending on how her day goes.
Which reminds me: Yesterday evening, immediately after her nap, she reported to me that she felt, "much better" than she's been feeling the last few days, which surprised me. In a recent post I reported that she'd seemed, over some days, hazier than usual, thus, I've been surveying her, almost to distraction, every hour or so when she's awake about how she feels, despite her ruddy physical appearance. She's been steadily answering, "Fine, just fine," sometimes giving me that sarcastic, "Why are you asking?" look. When she reported to me that she was suddenly feeling "much better", then added that she'd been feeling "lousy" over the last few days, I was beside myself.
"Why then, Mom, when I've been asking, have you been telling me that you feel fine?"
"Well, it didn't seem like I felt that bad."
"But, you're telling me," I continued, "that, now, looking back, you actually were feeling 'that bad.'"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"You know, Mom," I directed her, "when you're not feeling good and I ask, you need to tell me."
"I suppose so..." she responded, giving me a wary glance.
I laughed. "Okay," I said, "what was behind that glance?"
"I'm wondering what you could have done about it."
Good point. I was noticing something different, but I have to admit that nothing I was noticing was unusual for her, certainly not enough for me to worry or haul her into the doctor. I conceded to her on this. My experience tells me that it's more likely than not that, even if a doctor had "discovered" something, maybe lower than usual hemoglobin or, if some sort of brain scan was prescribed, activity that was a little different than usual, nothing of consequence would be done as a result and, within days, Mom would be "back to normal", doctor or no.
"For future reference," though, I said, "when I ask, and ask so often, let me know when you're not feeling your normal self, okay?"
Again, that wary glance. "What does that mean?" Her tone was challenging.
"Hmmm..." I said. "Maybe that means that I need to be a little more specific in my prying."
"Good idea," she agreed.
Maybe that's some of what wisdom is.
Later.
I just finished updating...
...Movies, Mom & Me. Each time I update that section, I shudder over how many movies we own, simultaneously reflecting on how many movies we rent, as well.
Strange, I never thought we'd get this involved with movies at home. I even put off getting a DVD player for us for a loooong time, because it just didn't seem as though we'd ever watch many movies at home. I just performed a casual counting which includes those dvds I've separated from the rest for eventual trade back and also includes a count of "1" on multi-dvded TV series and documentary productions. We've got 226 titles, assuming my count was accurate. I've watched all at least once...Mom's watched most at least once. Yikes! Got me to thinking that movies are becoming a bit like reading to one's care recipient used to be, except that I read to Mom, too, almost every evening, and she also reads to herself; and, more and more, I'm also reading to myself. Amazing what you can do when you live in Timelessness!
Later.
Strange, I never thought we'd get this involved with movies at home. I even put off getting a DVD player for us for a loooong time, because it just didn't seem as though we'd ever watch many movies at home. I just performed a casual counting which includes those dvds I've separated from the rest for eventual trade back and also includes a count of "1" on multi-dvded TV series and documentary productions. We've got 226 titles, assuming my count was accurate. I've watched all at least once...Mom's watched most at least once. Yikes! Got me to thinking that movies are becoming a bit like reading to one's care recipient used to be, except that I read to Mom, too, almost every evening, and she also reads to herself; and, more and more, I'm also reading to myself. Amazing what you can do when you live in Timelessness!
Later.
