Intimations of spring

Today is one of those late-winter days that signal that spring is in the air. When I walked to church this morning, the sun was making its best effort to break through the clouds, and the temperature was around 41 degrees F. Although the sidewalks are still a bit slippery here and there, the snow is melting and if these temperatures continue, Oslo will be snow-free by mid-March. And that bodes well for my return to the garden. I can't wait. As I walked home from church down Telthusbakken street, I remembered back to the mid-1980s when I would travel up to my parents' house by train from my Bronx apartment on a few Easter Sundays, savoring the early spring feeling that permeated the month of March and early April. Spring was in the air. It is that good feeling I remember--the warmth of the sun, the brightness of the colors around me, and the happy feeling that was infectious. It enveloped me. People were happy that winter was over, and on Easter Sunday, New Yorkers were dressed in their finery and milling about, at least in Manhattan. I often took the subway into Manhattan to get the Metro-North Hudson Line train at Grand Central Station so that I could enjoy the train ride up along the river. I still love that train ride all these years later. 

These were my thoughts today walking home from church--remembering Easter Sundays all those years ago. Remembering dressing up in dresses from Best & Company when my sister and I were children, and pairing them with the black patent leather shoes that were popular then. And we had to have our Easter hats. I still have one of mine that I use as decoration. A past time when dressing up for church and special occasions was the norm. I treasure those days for the memories of family and a way of living that has passed, but I will say that I no longer really dress up that way because I prioritize comfort now. It's a seldom occasion that warrants fine dresses, stockings and high heels. And it's not these things so much that I miss, it's the time with family, the celebration of Easter and the intimations of spring that I treasure most. 

That's what I felt on my walk home today--intimations of spring. I look forward to spring each year. The rebirth of life, birds chirping happily, buds on the trees, and a feeling of permeating happiness. This is what is important to me, in the midst of the trials and tribulations of the world at large. I cannot focus on that world any longer. There is no peace to find there, and it does not seem to me that men in power anywhere truly want or value peace. I sometimes wonder if they ever just step outside and listen—to the birdsong, to the pulse of nature around them. Truly, I wonder. How can someone watch and hear birds searching for mates, driven by the instinct to start families, and then turn around only to wage wars that bring mayhem and destruction? A love for nature and a desire for war cannot coexist. Prioritizing one means deprioritizing the other. 

Must be something in the water

Years ago, I worked with a man at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center who had very little good to say about one of the fifty states in the USA. That state will remain unnamed, but he wondered if there was something in the drinking water that made people behave strangely. Of course he said this in a humoristic way so that no one could take offense, but still. All these years later, his words have come back to me, mostly because I think so many people (mostly men) serving in the highest levels of American government are just plain weird. Is there something in the water that is making these men behave bizarrely? Weird, strange, off-kilter, caricature-like, but definitely of the patriarchal sort. You know the types--the ones who think they know best and are in your face about it 24/7. I've called these types of men dinosaurs in earlier posts, but now I call them the weird last vestiges of a dying race of dinosaurs. And thank God for that. 

These are not the men who should lead us further into the 21st century. We should not want them to lead us. And the women who support them are no better. None of these men and women are visionaries, They are mostly boring sycophants. They are not free-thinkers, they are not intellectuals, they are not smart people. They distrust scientific research and the value of firm scientific data. They deny the validity of scientific data. They ignore facts in favor of their own subjective ways of thinking. They parrot back the views, words, and opinions of one conservative television channel in particular, one that is known for dissecting every little thing that the liberal side stands for or utters. They are like carnivores at a kill--tear apart and chew and chomp and spit out the bones and fragments that remain. They are awful people, besides being boring beyond belief. The liberal side is often no better, but they are heads and shoulders above the conservative sycophants. 

I don't know what's in store for the country. I only hope that the dinosaurs become extinct soon and that a new age of intelligent animal is ushered in. God knows we need that. 

Achieving a grateful exit

I saw this today and wanted to share it with you, because it's how I felt when it was time to leave the work world behind. I had and still have no regrets about leaving/retiring early. Mine was a graceful exit, well-planned ahead of time, thankfully. I knew exactly what I wanted in terms of leaving, and when I wanted to leave. I left right after my last PhD student defended her thesis, and when I could turn over the reins of my biobanking job to another qualified individual. It's best to leave the work world behind with a peaceful and satisfied feeling, and I was able to do that. I did my best, which I defined as the best that I could do in any given work situation. Could I have done better? Probably yes. But I chose to stay within certain limits so that I didn't create excessive stress for myself out of concern for my health. The last decade of my work life was spent focusing on how to make each day a healthy one, because up to that point much of my job was spent sitting at a desk in front of a computer. Focusing on my health meant not overworking or taking on huge projects that I knew would overwhelm me. As it was, I did take on a new and challenging role four years before I retired, but one that I was well prepared for, given my background. So that worked out successfully. It was a good feeling to know that I could still master a new area, but also that I managed to do so within the confines of a normal work week. Gone were the days of working long hours overtime. 

When I retired, one chapter of my life was laid to rest, and another one opened--one that I wanted to fill with new adventures. I have managed to do that, despite some health issues this past year. Hopefully I'll be able to put them behind me for good and to focus on what I hope to focus on, more traveling with my good friends and with my husband. This year has started out very well, with a one-week trip to Charleston South Carolina with my two closest friends, and a two-week trip to Saint Raphael France with my husband. I have some ideas about travel plans for next year, among them an Amtrak train trip over the northwest part of the USA. Lots to look forward to! I hope that my friends who are still working will remember to put other aspects of their lives first, because we don't have unlimited time here on this earth. If there are things you'd like to do, if you have a bucket list, prioritize them. But if you love your work above all else, then by all means continue working. I know a few people who will find being retired to be a boring existence. I don't understand it, but it really does take all kinds to make a world.

Finding peace in beauty

I wish there was a way to bottle the beauty of a place, the beauty that gives one peace of soul. The beauty of the ocean today, staring out at the horizon, watching the waves come in and then crashing against the shore. The beauty of a city that is just that--beautiful at every turn. I wish there was a way of bottling the bright sunshine that warmed us as we sat outdoors eating lunch at La Brocherie. A way of bottling the experience of not having a care in the world, of not having to stress about anything at all. Because God knows we live in a world that is constantly clamoring for our attention, 24/7. There is rarely any peace from the news that invades each waking day. The only thing I want to do while I am here on vacation in Saint Raphael is to walk along the waterfront promenade on the sunny days and watch the children riding happily on the carousel. The carousel is what I remember from the first time I was in this city--an old-fashioned carousel--the kind you would expect to find at Coney Island or other amusement parks in the early 1900s. Indeed, when I googled carousel in Saint Raphael, some links that were returned mentioned that the double-decker carousel 'was probably built in the early 1900s by Gustave Bayol of Angers in France'. Apparently, these types of carousels are not unusual in France. If so, how wonderful. I would love to see more of them in my travels. 

As I walk along the promenade, I can 'see' in my mind's eye what this city might have looked like in the early 1900s. It has an old-fashioned feel to it that I love. The promenade as it exists today seems new to me; I don't remember it from the first time we were here (around 2000 or so), but some type of walkway existed. I'm sure people walked along the water or gathered at the hotel restaurants for lunch and afternoon coffee. It's a wonderfully civilized way to live. I could get used to it. This website with its lovely photos will give you an idea of what the city looked like back in the 1920s and 1930s as well as in 2008: Saint Raphaël Promenade Saint Raphaël Visite 

Reflections on life in Saint Raphael

Yesterday was a lovely warm day in Saint Raphael. It seemed as though all the residents of the city made their way to the waterfront to eat lunch and to enjoy the warm sun. The waterfront restaurants were packed and patrons were chatting happily with their families and friends. We settled on eating at an Italian restaurant called La Bocca in Frejus, which was packed with people. Fréjus is the adjacent town to Saint Raphael as you continue walking or driving westward. It was nice to see and experience people feeling happy and relaxed. Our stay here in Saint Raphael has been very relaxing. We've done some sightseeing, but not much. Our days consist of eating leisurely breakfasts, hanging out at home for a while, and then walking to the city center to eat lunch or dinner. We walk along the promenade that borders the ocean, passing a large marina with a supermarket and restaurants, near where we live, and then following the walkway past the rocky and sandy beaches, the numerous palm trees, the resort hotels and apartments, and the many restaurants that line the waterfront. We often eat a mid-afternoon dinner, as the restaurants close after 3 pm. Some reopen for the dinner crowd, but not many, since this is still off-season here on the Riviera. We've done some small souvenir shopping and on our way back, we often stop at the Spar supermarket to pick up some groceries. All told, our daily walking mileage is about 3 miles, which is good for us. If I lived here, I would be out walking on the promenade each day, as many of the local residents do. 

People keep to themselves for the most part, but they are friendly when you speak with them. The waiters and waitresses are likewise friendly and service-minded. We've spoken with a few of them and they seem to enjoy their jobs. It's good to see. Many elderly couples own dogs that they walk with along the waterfront; the dogs are having a great time being outdoors and meeting other dogs along the walkway. Yesterday when we walked up to the Basilique Notre-Dame-de-la-Victoire , an elderly man stopped me on the sidewalk to tell me that I was very beautiful, and he repeated that to my husband who nodded in agreement. That made my day, I must say; it's not often I hear that anymore. We got to talking with him, and it turned out that he had been a taxi driver in Paris for over twenty years before he retired to Saint Raphael. He was originally from Portugal and spoke Portuguese, French and some English. We managed to communicate. It was so nice to meet him, and it reminded me of the nice elderly man I met on a Paris subway many years ago, who also chatted with me as best he could in English. When he was getting off the subway, he said how nice it had been to meet me, and then he said goodbye and that he would meet me in heaven. His words have stuck with me all these years later. 

I think about all of the nice, friendly and interesting people I have met on my travels in my lifetime thus far. With some few exceptions, my meetings with strangers have been positive, and I am always reminded of how traveling broadens us--our perspective, our look on life, our views of other cultures and people. I am a richer person spiritually and psychologically because of the traveling that I have done. The traveling that I have had the privilege to do. I am grateful every day for this privilege. 

The ghosts of Christmases past

I borrow this line from Charles Dickens. As this year draws to a close, and we celebrate another Christmas together with family and/or friends or alone in some cases, I am reminded of all those who are no longer with us physically. People say they are with us in spirit, and I know they are. But I miss their physical presence at Christmas, starting with my parents (my father passed away forty years ago and my mother twenty-four years ago) and my brother who passed away ten years ago. I carry on the traditions I grew up with (Christmas tree, decorating the house, buying a panettone, making cookies), and luckily I am married to a man who appreciates the importance of traditions and whose family had their own traditions. It's never been a problem to combine our different approaches, and if anything, it's made celebrating Christmas that much nicer. I miss my husband's father who passed away thirteen years ago. I introduced him to panettone and he was hooked from the first bite. He loved all things Italian, but he loved a lot of things about America, among them the variety of pies that we have. I miss my husband's aunt who passed away in January of this year; she spent many Christmases with us, first with her husband who passed away seventeen years ago, and then alone with us after he died. She would come to our house for a few days and we would enjoy preparing for Christmas together. When I stand in my kitchen now during this holiday season, I remember them all. I remember them making pies, making struffoli, peeling and prepping vegetables, and making holiday dinners. They are memories that 'bless and burn' as my mother used to say. My mother said so many wise things, and I remember her for that and so much more. She loved Christmastime and all the preparations during Advent. What I remember too about my parents is that they shared their faith, together and with us. They were not afraid to practice their faith, and that is a gift for which I am forever grateful. 

The ghosts of Christmases past. The spirits of those whom I've known and loved. For me, the ghosts are not there to show me what I could have done better in the past, as the ghost in Charles Dickens' The Christmas Carol does with Scrooge. I am acutely aware of the ways in which the past could have been better, but for the most part, the past as I remember it, together with family and friends, was a happy and innocent time until we moved on with our own lives. The darkness of life had not yet invaded our individual lives. Family problems were present but not overwhelming. We went to church and shared our faith with other believers. We sang carols and Christmas hymns at mass. We admired the life-size creche that the church set up every year. Those times were special, if for no other reason than that we were young and life was still ahead of us. 

We celebrated Christmas Day with our individual families, but in the evening, after the big dinner was eaten, we met our friends and walked around the neighborhood, laughing and chatting. Some years there was a lot of snow, so we made snowballs and tossed them at one another. My brother was often with us. Friends were family too. I look at photos from that time, where my friends are sitting on our living room floor while my parents and my aunt are sitting on the sofa behind them. Sometimes we visited our friends' houses, where their parents had made a feast (and some great desserts), and we enjoyed them too. 

The past is a place I visit at this time of year, at least in my heart. I carry the memories of those I've loved and who loved me, and who are now deceased, and I think about them during my day. Their spirits remain, their wisdom and kindness remain, their individualities remain. I am the sum of all of them, because all of them have helped to shape me. My life is richer because they were and are a part of it.  

I wish all my readers a joyful Christmas, wherever you are in the world.

Reflections on forgiveness--trying to understand what it means and doesn't mean

The murders of Rob and Michele Reiner triggered many reactions and feelings in me. When their son was arrested for their murders, I began to think about their other children and how they are feeling. Devastated for sure. Horrified that their brother is to blame. A horrific situation any way you look at it, starting with the murders; the parents had their throats slit and they were stabbed, according to the news reports. How can a son do this to his parents? How much hatred do you have to possess in order to do such a thing? People repeat the same phrase over and over--he is mentally ill. As though that should explain it all. It doesn't. The majority of mentally ill people are not violent, but some types of mental illness (schizophrenia and bipolar disorder) are more associated with violent behavior than others, as a recent article in The Lancet points out People with severe mental illness as the perpetrators and victims of violence: time for a new public health approach - The Lancet Public Health  Mental illness is not an automatic defense for dealing with killers nor should it be. 

How can the siblings of Nick Reiner forgive him for what he did to their parents? I'm not sure they can. I don't know that I could forgive a sibling for doing such a horrible thing. I have experienced a few major hurtful and disturbing behaviors (not murder) in my life, and I honestly cannot say that I forgave the perpetrators, at least not for a long time afterward. What is forgiveness, really? According to what I have gathered from my online reading and from what my religion teaches, forgiveness involves letting go of angry and bitter thoughts and the desire for revenge. It does not mean that one is to eradicate these feelings, something that is not possible since we are human beings with feelings. The desire for revenge is strong. Forgiveness does not mean that one forgets what has happened. It does not mean condoning what has happened, or even necessarily trying to understand why it happened. I spent several years trying to figure out why someone would behave so badly to me, and that prevented me from moving on with my life. I did a lot of reading about evil and bad behavior at that time in my life, which did help. But no amount of trying to explain evil and bad behavior will erase the fact that it happened, and that it happens every day in the world at large. People can be horrible to each other on a personal level or horrible to others generally (think bullying and social media bullying, abuse, pedophilia, domestic violence, rape, murder, war and related aggression). The list is long and such behaviors have been around for centuries. Evil exists, even though many people would prefer not to label it as such, because they're not comfortable with the idea of evil spirits, demons, and the like. No one is comfortable with that idea, but many religions acknowledge the existence of evil and evil spirits, the Catholic Church being one of them. 

I grew up with Catholic teachings. The older I get, the more I believe that true evil exists and that it cannot be explained away by science or rational thought. The latter is more comforting to believe, that if we just somehow find the right explanation, we will be able to find a cure for preventing evil behavior. It will never happen. In one way, by acknowledging that evil exists, our response to evil can be simpler. We can 'forgive' the perpetrator of evil acts in the sense that we can let go of wanting vengeance, let go of wanting explanations, let go of wanting to know why. But we can never forget what happened, nor should we. What we have experienced can guide us to better decisions and choices. Don't trust the wrong person when your gut tells you not to, don't allow narcissists to manipulate you, don't tolerate abuse of any kind (walk away if possible), protect yourself and your sanity at all costs. Because the cost of not doing so can be high down the road. Living with evil or in an evil environment can cost you your health down the road. In this sense, it is easier to 'forgive' a person who has wronged you in order to move on and away from what has happened to you. But it does not mean compassion or empathy for the perpetrator of an evil act, nor should it. There should be real consequences for evil behavior. 

It's interesting that Christ came to save humanity, to collectively forgive our sins. At one point, he says 'forgive them Father, for they know not what they do' in relation to those people who wanted him dead. I'm not sure I agree with the latter part of the statement. I believe those who made the decision to end the life of Christ knew exactly what they were doing, which makes them that much more evil in my opinion. But perhaps some of the soldiers and people who were ordered to crucify him were ignorant. But does that make his death more palatable? Are these people off the hook? 

It's best not to live a life burdened by anger and bitterness, burdened by the desire for revenge. It's also best not to live a life burdened by PTSD, anxiety, nightmares and the other unfortunate consequences of having been the victim of evil behavior or evil situations in general. I think of the the innocent victims of the countless wars throughout the world, the nearly 3000 people who died in the 9/11 World Trade Center attacks in 2001, the more than 1200 people who were brutally murdered (and raped first in the case of women) in Israel on October 7, 2023, the countless number of children who have died in USA school shootings, the 77 victims of Anders Behring Breivik in 2011 in Norway, the two young Norwegian women murdered in Morocco in 2018, the young women in Jeffrey Epstein's world who were abused to satisfy the insatiable evil lusts of the men in that world, and the countless number of children abused by pedophile priests and pedophiles generally. The list of evil behaviors is long. How do you go on living after experiencing such things, if in fact you did/do survive? How do the families of the victims go on living? A number of the survivors and their family members don't--they commit suicide because they can't deal with the aftermath. 

So if forgiveness is letting go in order to be free of the feelings of anger, bitterness, vengeance and to deal with anxiety and other major mental issues after having been wronged by another, then forgiveness is a good thing in my opinion. It is not for the benefit of the perpetrator, it is rather for the benefit of the wronged. I don't know if this is in line with Catholic teachings, but I find it hard to accept that I should 'free' the perpetrator, especially if the perpetrator has gone on to other evil acts and shows no interest or signs of becoming or wanting to become a better person, ready to take his or her punishment. Freeing the perpetrator is a job that belongs to the divine. It is only when the perpetrator meets with his or her victims/families of the victims and asks to be forgiven that the picture changes--only when the perpetrator is ready to take his punishment. At that point, I still don't know what I would do, I guess it depends on the type of evil, the type of crime committed. I know what Christ would do. But that doesn't make it any easier to know what I would do. 

Peace on earth, good will toward others?

This is the Christmas season, the season of good will toward others and the hope for peace on earth. But I'm not seeing it or finding it really anywhere. Not in the news, that's for sure. Normally I try to stay away from the news that's thrown at us ad nauseam 24/7, but this past week the insanity of the world seeped in anyway. It's insidious that way. The shootings at Bondi Beach Live updates: Australia Bondi Beach shooting kills at least 15, details on suspects emerge | CNN and Brown University Live updates: Search for Brown University shooter continues as FBI releases photos of suspect | CNN, the wars that continue all over the world and the escalating tensions associated with them, and now the murders of Rob Reiner and his wife Michele, by none other than their deeply-troubled son Nick, a man who seems to be filled with hatred for his parents December 15, 2025 Rob and Michele Reiner found dead in LA home | CNN. 

Hell on earth. Do we need to believe in an afterlife that sorts the dead into those bound for heaven and those bound for hell? If you ask me, we're living in a hell of our own making. In many parts of the world, there are leaders who are basically horrible human beings, defined by their greed, desire for power at all costs, vengeance, and hatred. Leaders who want nothing more than total power over people who want nothing more than an average ordinary life where they can afford to buy the necessary things for their families. A world defined by subjugation and abuse of women and children. A world where technocrats have become oligarchs, in possession of billions of dollars and spending money on themselves instead of helping the world. Mackenzie Scott is not one of them, I want to point out. She is an inspiration. How much money does a person need to live a comfortable life? When is enough, enough? When? Apparently never for many of these people, many of whom are loathsome men whose sexual appetites also know no bounds. Lust for money and lust for women. To all the average ordinary men and women who support these types of men in politics, I just have one question, Would you feel comfortable leaving your teenage daughter alone in a room with any of them? I'm betting the answer is no, but you're willing to overlook their pedophile behavior in the hope that some of their wealth will trickle down on you. Keep hoping. Your brains are addled by the obsession with money. You swear that these men have your best interests at heart. Keep dreaming. 

So it doesn't feel like much of a Christmas season to me this year. Add to the above the rampant commercialism that overshadows just about every other aspect of Christmas. Children would do well to be reminded by their parents that there are poor children in the world who will never get the amount of presents that they do. It's not wrong to discuss this with them. It's not wrong to let them know that they are privileged. Because they are. And we are. 

Who is the inspiration of this season? Christ. It would behoove us to remember that and be thankful for everything we have. To shut out the major darkness of the world by turning toward the light and the sun. We don't need more material things, we need more spiritual insight, peace of soul, kindness, civility, charity and hospitality. We need more hope that we can have a better world with better leaders. We need to 'light one candle rather than curse the darkness'. As I write this, I realize that I need to be reminded of that myself. 

The enigma that is MTG

Georgian Republican Marjorie Taylor Greene announced this past week that she will be resigning from Congress on January 5, 2026. 47 reacted by applauding her decision and saying that she 'went bad'. He questioned her loyalty to him and to the Republican party. It is true that her behavior and statements have changed radically during the past few months. It's almost as though she's had some sort of awakening--a conversion of sorts. One could only hope. This is a woman who supported 47 wholeheartedly and brashly through his first term and into his second. Her brand of loyalty bordered on cultish. She was fond of conspiracy theories and her rhetoric did nothing to stop the fanning of the flames of hatred in the USA; it rather promoted division among the American people. She was no moderate Republican as she is now being portrayed. She was positioned firmly on the extremist right and was an ardent supporter of QAnon (Legislator criticism of a candidate’s conspiracy beliefs reduces support for the conspiracy but not the candidate: Evidence from Marjorie Taylor Greene and QAnon | HKS Misinformation Review). 

Why is she resigning? Is it just that her very public rift with 47 has damaged her future political chances? Or does she see an opportunity to reinvent herself and her potential political future? Is she deeply upset over how 47 has treated her, or was she prepared for the fallout? After all, she pushed and pushed for the release of the Epstein files/emails which 47 opposed, and they are now being released with his support. One could question his motives for his sudden reversal on this issue. I think he understood that it was politically savvy to do so. After all, he could see that the tide was turning against him, that he is losing his group of core supporters, and that can't happen. He has to control the narrative. Mark my words, in a month or two everyone will think that he was instrumental in pushing for release of the files. MTG will be a footnote to that story, as is the case for most people who oppose him. 

I'd like to believe that she underwent a true change of heart. She did apologize for fanning the flames of hatred and for her hateful rhetoric. God does work in strange ways. Perhaps we are witnessing a real conversion in action. But being the doubting Thomas that I am (and I am), I want more proof that she is a changed person. Time will tell. She is an enigma, and she is not likely to be pinned down or figured out any time soon. Perhaps she wants it that way. Or perhaps she really did get tired of the political games in Washington DC. Perhaps she found out that she was not really welcome at the party, or that she was welcome at the party as long as she continued to spout the party line. I find it interesting that she said that she had no desire to be a 'battered wife', accepting the bad behavior and remaining in her appointed place. I applaud her for following her conscience if in fact it is her conscience that is guiding her. But as I said, I want more proof that she is a changed individual. From a spiritual context, it's always possible that one can seek forgiveness and find it if one is willing to change one's ways. Anything is possible with God. Good for her if that's the case. She grew up, woke up, and did something about her past behavior. That's what God asks. Perhaps it will inspire others to do the same, and perhaps that's what 47 is most afraid of. 

Who woulda thunk it?

The news that 47 has dumped MTG as an ally was of little surprise to me. Loyalty runs only one way in the current administration. The fact that she has lasted this long is the real surprise. If you question the leader, you're out. If you question powerful rich white men, you're out. You don't even get three strikes. 

What a farce politics has become. American and international politics--it doesn't really matter. It amazes me that things run as they should for the most part. But that's solely due to honest, ordinary, good people in politics who have morals and balls, and who stay out of the limelight, who aren't 'PR-kåte' (PR-horny) as the Norwegians would say. They do the jobs they were elected to do, or at least they try. The government shutdown in the USA shows that this is not always the case. But average ordinary people are not in charge when it comes to making the decision to shut down a government. I'm sure there were many underlings who cautioned their bosses about making the wrong decision for the good of America. But lately, it seems that very few decisions have to do with what's good overall for America. 

47 is now abandoning tariffs on beef, coffee, bananas and orange juice, among other foodstuffs (Trump cuts tariffs on beef, coffee and other foods as inflation concerns mount | Reuters ). Again, who woulda thunk it? Who did people think were going to pay for the tariff increases on groceries? The oligarchs that run the US economy? Not a chance. Anyone who thinks that oligarchy doesn't exist in the USA should think again. If you're a billionaire, baby, you've got it made. And you have an open door into the Oval Office as far as I can judge. 

We have young people now whose career choices veer toward being influencers or posting videos on Only Fans. Why? Money money money. Models, singers, and actors/actresses can make a fortune from selling their own lines of clothing and perfumes/colognes. Do you need a college education or a graduate school education for such things? No, all you need are fancy accountants and lawyers who take care of the whole shebang for you. But young people should take a long hard look at the statistics--there are very few who make it in these businesses, and you're shortsighted if you think you will. 

Everything is out of whack these days. Salaries for sports stars, actors/actresses, top-level leaders (don't get me started), businessmen, etc. I've been saying the same thing for ten or more years--when you pay superfluous department leaders at a hospital extremely high salaries, the money has to come from somewhere. You're extremely naive if you think that extra money is appropriated (from somewhere) to pay for these salaries. No, the money comes from the budgets that departments need in order to run their day-to-day functions. So the departmental budgets are cut, and ordinary employees are told that 'now we're going to work smarter and more effectively' in order to deal with the cuts. When you translate this bullshit, it amounts to that 'you're going to do the job of three people for the same salary as you have now, and you're going to work more hours in order to get the job done'. I've seen it so many times and it always ends up the same way. People quit when they figure out that they're being taken advantage of. And so it goes. Departments end up chronically understaffed. I view all of this from afar now that I no longer belong to the work world. Do I miss it? God, no. I know what hard work is, and I knew when what I did was appreciated and when it wasn't. You learn. Eventually you learn. It took me a while though. Am I a cynic? No. But I am a skeptical optimist. I have hope because I have faith, but that doesn't mean that I don't see the 'man behind the curtain' (think Wizard of Oz). There's a lot of bluster and arrogant talk and such, but it's covering up a lack of strategy and common sense. We need to get back to a world that values ethics and common sense. 

Random thoughts on a Friday morning

I train now three days a week--group training on Mondays and Wednesdays, and individual training on Fridays. The center where I train is four tram stops from my home, so it's convenient to get there. This morning's reflections--

• People on their way to work, stopping to buy their espressos and cappuccinos at Kaffebrenneriet (literally the coffee burner). I used to do that in Manhattan on my way to work each morning. 
• Stores opening for the day. 
• A gray autumn day, but a mild one. Kind of nice, actually. For once, the grayness doesn't bother me. I have no idea why. Maybe because I'm listening to my music and it energizes me. 
• Training has gotten me back into listening to music. I realize just how much I love dance music. I love training to dance music. I feel uplifted and happy. Carefree is the best way to describe it. Just about how I felt years ago on the dance floor. I used to love going to clubs on the weekends to dance. 
• People on the tram are preoccupied with their own things, listening to music on their phones or reading the news on their phones. Most people's faces are buried in their phones. 
• When I'm on the treadmill at the training center, I look out the window onto the roof below. A large number of pigeons sit there as well as on the electric wire above the roof. Looking down and out over the city. They sit there rain or shine. A bird's eye view--that must be kind of cool. I've always wished that I could fly. 
• I look out at the traffic pouring into the city. People on their way to work. The daily routine. I'm so glad I no longer have that routine. I appreciate my freedom, but it's been hard-earned. Over forty years in the workforce; that was long enough. I thought about myself as an employee. I probably wasn't the best employee in terms of listening slavishly to workplace leaders, but I have no regrets. Thankfully I chose research science, which imparts a fair amount of autonomy in terms of what one chooses to do each day. Meaning that I was quite free to pursue the research projects I wanted and luckily for many years, they were funded. 
• I talk to some of the people I train with. Many are interested in American politics and enjoy discussing them with me. I don't deter them. It's interesting to hear what non-Americans think about my country and the political chaos in which we find ourselves at present. We talk about what's going on in Europe too, because Europe is not immune to some of the polarizing ideologies that plague the USA at present. 
• I'm grateful for life. My prayer each morning is one of thanks--for life, for another day, for the people in my life who love me and whom I love. 

The Church of St. Vincent de Paul

Whenever Jean and I are in Albany NY to visit our friend Maria, we go to Sunday mass at the Church of St. Vincent de Paul which describes itself as 'a place of courageous hospitality'. God knows that we need more courageous hospitality in the current political climate. The church is a welcoming place that practices what it preaches. You feel welcome there almost immediately as you step in the door, connected to the others around you. Parishioners sit in a circle around the altar that is placed in the middle. There is nothing old-school about this church, so those looking for an old-fashioned approach to mass and the church would be better served elsewhere. I happen to prefer this newer approach where parishioners are actively involved in the mass and have access to the altar. Some prefer more distance and I respect that too. In fact, I have no problems with either one, since my church in Oslo is more old-school and reserved, and I like being there too. But if you are alone in the world, or if you feel lonely, you might prefer a more open and connected church. Elizabeth Simcoe, the Parish Life Director, has this to say in the church brochure regarding the church's goal of hospitality and inclusivity: 

"Welcome to all, especially visitors, pilgrims and those seeking a spiritual home. We are glad you have found the Church of St. Vincent de Paul. We hope you will experience it as a community that is hospitable, prayerful, inclusive and committed to serving our neighbors". 

St. Vincent de Paul said the following: 

"Make it a practice to judge persons and things in the most favorable light at all times and under all circumstances". 

Again, a tall order in this world of ours. It means meeting strangers and people generally with an open mind and love in your heart. How many of us are able to do that? How many of us want to do that? In the brochure that describes the parish, there is another quote from Hebrews 13:1-2:

"Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels". 

Imagine that, that one may have entertained angels. It's a wonderful thought. Imagine too that our kindness toward another person may have resulted in that person finding the light they sought, finding the peace he or she desired, finding the gift of faith. Nothing more is asked of us than that we love our neighbor as ourself. I think it means being kind to others and since there is so little kindness in the world now, perhaps we could just start there, by making an effort to be kind when we really don't feel like it. That might go a long way toward restoring some amount of civility and respect in a world that seems to revel in the fact that they are long-gone, at least in the public and political arenas. 

Staying positive during and after illness

A number of friends have commented on my positive approach to life in light of the serious operation I underwent in April. What I know is that I was one of the lucky ones--operated on about a week after my diagnosis and extensive testing--and a three-month recovery that was not fraught with major problems. I was well-treated by the healthcare system in this country, and from my conversations with others who have experienced the system, I had an excellent experience. I am thankful for that. Because had I landed on a long waiting list for an operation, I may not have concluded thusly. And I probably would not be doing well at all. 

The positivity comes from knowing that my diagnosis was correct and that the resultant surgery was successful. None of these things is a given, especially the latter. The tests I went through were extensive and difficult, but tolerable. The mitral valve repair surgery that I underwent is at present fairly routine, but still, there are always risks with any kind of surgery where anesthesia is involved. I knew beforehand that my quality of life without surgery would be null. So there was no question in my mind that surgery was my only option. I wasn't afraid of it. I was rather afraid of not having it soon enough, because my quality of life prior to surgery was poor. I couldn't sleep and I had a hard time breathing properly. You don't live long with those symptoms--all signs of congestive heart failure. 

I am a scientist by training and a fairly pragmatic person. I understand the pros and cons involved in most medical procedures and I can discuss them rationally with the doctors and nurses. I was interested in my condition and in the different types of testing, and told them so. So they weren't afraid to be open about aspects of my treatment that they may not have discussed with another type of patient. There are some people who don't want to know any of the details, and that also has to be respected. But I wanted to know. 

So my positivity evolved out of the knowledge that my only option was surgery, and that it went well. I am grateful for a second chance in life. My brush with mortality has taught me to be grateful for every single day, and to be grateful for my husband and the friends who have remained in my life. There are people who distance themselves from you when you become ill. Perhaps they think you will ask them for help, or perhaps they are scared for themselves. In any case, I am happy to be together with those I can call real friends. With them, I can let down my guard and they know that I can tell them that I have good days and bad days. But the good days far outweigh the bad ones, and knowing that makes me smile. 

The great divide

Parable is a poem I wrote many years ago--my reflections on the great divide between the wealthy and the poor, inspired by the parable in the New Testament about the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31 NIV - The Rich Man and Lazarus - “There was - Bible Gateway)

Parable

Lazarus in the street,
While in the penthouses above
The glitterati meet.
In the end I left
The glamour, the effete chic.
(Not that I belonged).
‘City of vipers’--
Women poised like cobras,
Bedecked in jewels and haughty crowns,
Ready to strike, tongues flicking.
Gold lame skins rise and fall
With their breathing.
Fixing you with their stares.
Outside the frost-edged window
Awaits the city---
The viper rich indoors
See it not, nor feel.
Teeth flash, capped, even, gleaming--
Fangs for the night about to end
About to start
That never ends, for reality 
Is a party, a toss of the coin--
One more Lazarus for the gutter,
One more snake for the pit. 

from Parables and Voices: A Collection of Poems 1973-2009: De Angelis, Paula Mary: 9781452838762: Amazon.com: Books

All rights reserved. Copyright Paula Mary De Angelis

Autumn and moving on

I have begun to wake up around 7 am, a very peaceful time of day. There is some noise outdoors--garbage collection, children crying because they don't want to go to daycare--those kinds of things. Nothing that is irritating. We have had a wonderful summer--sunny, warm, and pleasant. There have been intervals with rain, but they don't last very long before we're back to sunshine. I've loved every waking minute of it. When I wake up, I thank God for another day of life, and then putter about until my husband gets up. I get an early start on most household chores, which I like a lot. 

I love this time of year--the transition from summer to autumn. It's still warm during the day, but chilly at night. Great for sleeping. I don't always sleep straight through the night until morning, but no matter. I know that I can catch up on some sleep during the day. My first thought upon waking is often my garden. I so look forward to being there. Today is one of those days where I know I can be in my garden undisturbed by obligations and chores. I'm done with most of the garden chores--harvesting, pruning the berry bushes, cutting the grass, and planting new perennials. I'll plant garlic cloves at the end of September as well as some tulip bulbs and the like. The major garden cleanup can wait until spring; that way the birds and insects have plants to feed upon during the winter months. There are so many birds, bees, and butterflies in the garden at present. I love seeing them there. 

When the sun shines like it does today, I feel happy and free. When I get to the garden, perhaps I'll continue reading one of the books I started months ago. I did that on Sunday when we had Visitors Day in the garden. I haven't felt much like reading since my operation, but the desire is slowly returning. Visitors Day was enjoyable; I met many people who visited my garden, and we talked about plants and being on the waiting list to get an allotment garden. Several people commented on how beautiful my garden is. I thanked them. It is a beautiful garden that I've poured my heart and soul into. I'm proud of the results, but I know that none of it would have been possible without God's help. He has been with me every step of the way, and I feel that even more since my operation. Just knowing that I could return to working in my garden was a major goal during my recovery. It waited for me and took care of itself while I was ill. That's the beauty of a (mostly) perennial garden. Eventually the only thing you really need to do is water the garden a few times a week. 

I could focus on a few negative things that have happened recently, but I won't. Suffice it to say that I've learned who my real friends are, and I'm intentionally moving on from those who are not. People show you their true colors, especially when you are ill. My husband commented recently on the few friends here who showed up for me. It's not that they could help me very much--he has helped me the most--but they visited, took contact, sent get-well cards or bought me flowers. It meant and means a great deal to me. Just to be able to talk about what I went through and to let it out, has been a relief for me. A relief that some people would actually listen to me without wanting to jump in immediately and tell me that it's all going to be fine. A relief that some people made time for me. I will forever treasure how I was treated by the doctors, nurses, physiotherapists, and the health personnel generally. Their kindness stands out and washes away the carelessness of the so-called friends who are not friends. I choose to focus on the positive, and have support for that approach from Matthew Kelly's book The Fourth Quarter of Your Life: Embracing What Matters Most. It is truly a wonderful book about how to approach getting older/old, and I recommend it for anyone over fifty years of age. The wisdom contained in its pages is priceless. Old age is often referred to as the autumn and/or winter of life. It's fitting that I finished the book as we prepare for the autumn season. Reading the book freed me from worrying about how to deal with certain situations. I've made some intentional decisions and have let go of what hurt me or made me sad. Life is too short to focus on the callousness of others. I am not callous nor will I ever be. Society encourages that now, but it hasn't changed me. What matters most is how we love others, and also ourselves. What matters most is integrity and remaining true to our values and the voice in our soul that guides us onward in life. 

Caring and not caring

Sometimes the smartest and healthiest thing we can do for ourselves is to care less, not more. I don't mean that we should be uncaring toward others or that we should not love or prioritize others. I mean that sometimes we care too much about what others think of us in situations that do not warrant our attention, or we want to direct others through our caring, and these scenarios are not healthy. Sometimes we don't like how others behave toward us or how they talk to us. We should say--it's your problem, not mine. But often we don't do that. We end up getting dragged into their banal dramas when we should just ignore them and walk away. We should make a conscious effort to not care about what they mean or say about us. Hard to do, yes. But freeing. Because when you really learn to let go of caring about what other people mean about you, especially when they are hypercritical of you, you are free. In the same way, we free others to do and say what they want when we let go of our vision of how they should behave and what they should do and say. The key words are 'letting go', not hanging on. What's important is to let others be, and that means not grasping at them in an effort to get them to do what we think they should do. Grasping at them reveals a kind of desperation. It's not smart behavior. 

There are times in life when others are headed down the wrong path and we want to involve ourselves in order to stop them from making a mess of their lives. But if we haven't been asked for advice or our opinion on a certain matter, why are we getting involved? I'm not talking about children here who need guidance and direction, rather adults who can reason for themselves and make informed choices. Why are we inserting ourselves into others' lives when we've not been asked to do so? There are many well-meaning adults who want to control others, to fashion them according to their own viewpoints and beliefs. We should rather 'let go and let them' live the lives they want to live, regardless of the outcome. And in that way, we end up having fewer dramas and fewer irritating situations to deal with. Sometimes the outcomes for those others won't be happy, sometimes they may even be painful. But they are adult learning experiences. Pain can be a basis for emotional and psychological growth. We cannot prevent others from experiencing pain. 

There are situations when another's behavior/comments may hurt our feelings. Sometimes we are faced with having to choose a response to them. The question is what kind of response. Sometimes it's best to just to let them be that way. Sometimes that's the healthiest response of all. Their bad behavior is not our problem. Perhaps their behavior or comments are intended to provoke us, to make us irritated, sad, jealous or angry. Do we take the bait or do we walk away? Do we care or do we walk away and not care? More and more, I've begun to see the value in not caring. That way, I can reserve my energy for the situations where real caring and active love are warranted. And that way, I don't have to be dragged into another's dramas. That by itself is energizing and empowering. 

Reflections on The Capture--a futuristic horror story?

We recently discovered this compelling thriller series on Viaplay (The Capture (TV Series 2019–2025) - IMDb, and I can only say that watching it will induce a fair amount of paranoia and surprise. Surprise that video surveillance using CCTV (closed circuit TV) has come as far as it has in Britain. London to be exact. I knew that there were video cameras everywhere, but I didn't realize the extent of the surveillance. To sum up the series, it deals with the use of video surveillance to track the movements of potential terrorists and anarchists, but in doing so it unsurprisingly tracks the movements of ordinary folk. Facial recognition technology using AI also enters the picture. What transpires is tantamount to a horror film about the future to come (or is it already here?), in that the video experts have developed a technique called 'correction' that allows them to manipulate video footage in real-time. So that what you think you're watching in real-time is not real; it has been altered (in most cases via sophisticated hacking) to suit the purposes of those who want 'corrected' footage. In the first season, the counter-terrorism group, in order to prosecute a suspected terrorist, had altered video footage in order to 'include' said terrorist. This was done in order to be able to introduce the footage into a court of law, since recorded conversations and the like are apparently inadmissible. The person in question was actually a terrorist, so the argument was that even though recorded conversations could not be admitted into a court of law, altering a video to include the terrorist was ok because he was actually a terrorist. The main story of the first season is about a young soldier whose lawyer ends up dead, and he is accused of murdering her. Except that he hasn't done so, but there is video footage showing that he has attacked her and that she never got on her bus to go home. She was kidnapped by persons unknown. We know that the soldier isn't the culprit; that's established early on. The problem is proving it, and that proves to be difficult. 

It's not difficult to imagine how this technology can be misused, especially when AI enters the picture. The point was made early on in the series that China and Russia were already using 'correction'. How real is it? We all know about/have heard about deepfake videos and the like. I'm going to include Wikipedia's description of deepfake in order to reveal just how far deepfake has come: 

Deepfakes (a portmanteau of 'deep learning' and 'fake' are images, videos, or audio that have been edited or generated using artificial intelligence, AI-based tools or AV editing software. They may depict real or fictional people and are considered a form of synthetic media, that is media that is usually created by artificial intelligence systems by combining various media elements into a new media artifact......Deepfakes have garnered widespread attention for their potential use in creating child sexual abuse material, celebrity pornographic videos, revenge porn, fake news, hoaxes, bullying, and financial fraud.

In the series, the point is made that democratic societies began to use correction technology to counter the misuse by non-democratic societies, but of course we know that it's only a matter of time before the misuse infiltrates the democratic societies as well. Because in real life there are always villains and people on the take, grifters willing to sell out their country for a good sum. In addition, MI5 and the CIA are always involved in these series (often in very questionable ways), and the picture is never pretty in terms of what they do to people who oppose them. It's actually quite scary to think about a world in which you perhaps possess the 'true' video footage of an event, only to be told that the 'corrected' video footage is the real footage. It's your word against theirs (the police and counter-terrorism folks). And the little man or woman does not win against the tech-savvy folks. The little folks are suppressed and threatened with career destruction/slandering/destruction of reputation. In the worst case, their lives are threatened. There is no shortage of assassinations in The Capture.  

So how much of this is true, and how far has the technique of correction come? Britain is apparently the most video-monitored country in the world. CCTV began in the 1960s as a measure to monitor crowd activity, traffic, and eventually criminal activity, and to the latter end it's been fairly effective. What makes me nervous is realizing that the use of CCTV requires a huge number of people who sit and monitor footage 24/7. Are all these people reliable, honest, and good? It's not possible since we are only human. So the potential for misuse, for data manipulation, for altering the 'truth' is real ‘The public have a right to be concerned’: the real story behind BBC One’s surveillance and technology thriller, The Capture – The i Paper

We are moving towards a strange new world where AI will dominate much of our lives. A brave new world? Some might say that it's going to be survival of the fittest. I used to say that if you have nothing to hide, being monitored won't bother you. But now I'm not so sure. The true horror lies in what you can do to politicians, famous people, celebrities, etc. by misusing data technology. The true horror is what will happen to democratic societies when no one is sure of what is 'true' anymore. We have reached that point in politics, and it makes me wonder about the presidential races during the past decade or so. What is the truth, really? Who can tell us? I would argue that we know deep down what the truth is, but as is often said, reality is stranger than fiction. I hope not for the future of society.  

Grateful for the gift of life

I have been going to cardio training classes for the past two months, and am very pleased with the results thus far. I have better endurance and balance, both of which I needed. I'm still tired from time to time, but since my operation, I'm less tired for each day that passes. We train outdoors on a grass lawn in the vicinity of the local hospital that is responsible for the training that is conducted by licensed physiotherapists. When the weather is nice, as it has been for the past month, it is nice to look up at the blue sky and feel the wind that blows through the tall trees around us. The sun and the wind make me feel grateful for being alive so that I can experience them. It's hard to explain if you haven't been through a major heart operation, but being grateful for being alive is one of the feelings that dominates each day. Being alive is a gift. Mitral valve surgery (in my case--repair) was not a given forty or fifty years ago. It's 'routine' surgery now, but in order to have become so, it has evolved over the years from attempts at repair to successful repair mostly due to the development of the heart-lung machine in 1953. I am grateful for all the cardiologists and surgeons who have dedicated their lives and careers to bettering the lives of others and to keeping heart patients alive. They are amazing individuals who deserve all the praise they get. Men and women in my parents' generation were not so lucky, since the technique was still evolving.   

The best thing about the classes has been being together with others who have gone through the same or similar heart operations. Our class consists of about twenty or so persons, split more or less evenly between the sexes. Most are older people, but some are middle-aged and young. When I started, the physiotherapists told me I could proceed at my own pace and do the exercises I felt that I could manage. When I started, I had poor balance. Not anymore. So it's eye-opening what training can do to improve one's physical form. The others also do what they can. I like the smiling faces I meet the days I'm there, and talking to some of the people in the class. I hope I meet some of them again when the class ends, as it will before summer vacation. I've been offered a spot in a more intensive cardio training course after the summer, and I've accepted it. I hope I meet some of my fellow 'travelers' there. I am grateful for them as well, for showing me that fear and nervousness can be overcome. It's been valuable to experience that together with others who are in the same boat with me. I'm grateful too for the physiotherapists who motivate us to continue, who tell us that we're doing well, and who guide us through the exercises. They're worth their weight in gold. 

Having gratitude

 

The angels among us

As a Catholic, the word 'angel' has always been a part of my vocabulary, but I would have been hard pressed previously to say that I believed in the presence of angels. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that I believed in them but that I didn't really think about them or focus on them in any way. I've been in a couple of dangerous situations through the years and emerged unscathed from them, and when I look back, I believe that my guardian angel protected me from harm. We learn to pray to our guardian angel as children (Catholicism), but again, most of us say the words without really thinking about what we're saying. And that's ok;  perhaps it's meant to be that way. 

I was hospitalized for three weeks during the month of April, and during that time, I met many different people--doctors, nurses, technicians, aides, ambulance drivers, and other patients. All of the people I met touched me in different ways with their kindness and caring; I was well taken care of and I am very grateful for the excellent care that I received. I know that some readers will say that doctors and nurses should be kind and caring, but my feeling is that some of them went above and beyond the call of duty. I will remember them always, from the doctor at the urgent care facility who understood the seriousness of my condition and had me admitted to a hospital immediately, to the different doctors who patiently explained the different tests and procedures that I needed to undergo so that I could have a necessary operation, to the nurses in intensive care who monitored me 24/7, to the ambulance drivers who kept me talking so that I could focus on happier times. All of them were wonderful people and I can't thank them enough for what they did for me. 

There are some few people with whom I interacted that I would say were angels, in the sense that I felt that they were sent to me by God for a reason. Angels are considered to be spiritual beings (without a physical body), so my question is whether all angels 'know' who they are and if they can manifest themselves through humans. The first person was a seventy-eight year old woman named Vigdis, who was my roommate the first weekend I was hospitalized, and then after I was moved to another room, was someone I would meet for lunch and dinner in the hospital cantina. She said it best, that we liked to 'skravle' (to talk a lot and for a long time about many things). She had been through four hip operations, had had a broken back, and had lost her husband to cancer. She had a sense of humor that carried her through most of life's trials, and I so enjoyed talking to her. At one point, I realized that she was sent to me to take my mind off my own trials, and I told her that because I felt it so strongly. I had a very strong sense of being protected by her. She understood what I meant, and then we went on to talk about other things. When she was about to be released from the hospital, I met her to say goodbye, and she just said to me "give me a hug", which I did. And then we said goodbye and wished each other well. 

Two of my many nurses, Kaia and Nashia, were also sent to me for a reason. I knew that whatever happened to me under their care, that they would protect me. All of my nurses were very good to me, but they extended themselves in ways that made me feel that there was something extra surrounding our interactions. On Easter Sunday, Nashia asked me if I was religious, and I said I was. So she arranged for me to attend an interdenominational service led by a female priest named Berit, with whom I connected immediately. I told her how much I enjoyed the service, and when I met her the next day in the hallway, she told me that she had been thinking of me. I told her that I had been thinking of her as well because I had told my husband how much I enjoyed the service, and that I wished that my church would allow female priests. She excused herself for several minutes, and came back with a pair of rosary beads that she offered to me as an Easter gift. We talked about the pope for a while (he had just passed away and she had great respect for him), and then we parted. I will never forget her kindness to me; something in people's eyes that you can see. 'The eyes are the window to the soul', as has been said previously. They truly are. But again, I sensed that feeling of being protected, this time that my soul was protected. It's hard to describe it any other way. 

I could relate many more stories about the people I met during the three weeks I was sick, from the Iranian woman named Fatemeh who wished me well and told me there was something very special about me, to the nurse who, a couple of days after my operation, asked me how I had slept. When I told her that I had dreamed about eating a toasted buttered roll with scrambled eggs, she had the cantina prepare that for me. She didn't have to do that, but she went out of her way to make me happy. Then there was Liv, a very nice medical doctor doing research for her PhD, who asked me to be part of her research study since I fit the participation criteria. Since I was a cancer researcher before I retired, it was easy to say yes to her and to discuss her project with her. It's those extra little touches of kindness and caring that made me feel that I could get well again, that I will get well. I hang on to those moments when I feel a bit down. I hang on to those feelings of being protected.