The Fixx - Saved By Zero

Tears For Fears - Sowing The Seeds Of Love

The world at present is a mess. It needs more love and less pride, hate and greed. 

Deciphering Clarice Lispector's writing

The books by Brazilian writer Clarice Lispector were recommended to me by a friend who likes her work. I recently purchased two of Lispector's books, Near to the Wild Heart, her first novel published in 1943, and An Apprenticeship, or The Book of Pleasures, published in 1968. Two books published twenty-five years apart, just to get an idea of how she wrote and evolved as a writer. Based on these two books alone, I can truthfully say that I will not be reading more of her work. It's not that I think that she's not a good writer, I just don't think she is a great writer. 

I found it very difficult to get through Near to the Wild Heart. Fragmented is the best way I can describe the book and the experience of reading it. It was disquieting to try to pull it all together, to piece together the substance of her novel. The feeling while reading it was not a pleasant one; I struggled. Not so much to understand what the story was about (a woman, her early life, her husband, his lover, and eventually her lover), but how she chose to go about it. The disjointedness and the fragmentation were jarring. The main character, Joana, is a young woman with considerable mental problems-- a hypersensitive woman who dissects herself and her thoughts continually, ad nauseam. She does not live her life, she rather observes it, as though she stands outside herself. She wants to live life, but she is unable to, whether by choice or by virtue of some mental affliction. She is disconnected from herself (and others), yet hypervigilant about what each thought and utterance means, hers and others. She is constantly aware of herself and her thoughts almost immediately after thinking them, but much less so of her feelings. Or if she is aware of her feelings (hyper-aware), she analyzes them continuously in a kind of stream of consciousness (no limits on her thoughts or expression of them), such that they are dissected away into a state of feelinglessness. Suffice it to say that a normal person cannot live this way and does not behave this way; her behavior borders on madness, on craziness, and a normal reader can feel the madness. At least that was the effect on me. I couldn't wait to finish the book; I considered abandoning the book halfway into it, but decided to finish it so that I could evaluate it properly. There were parts of the book where Lispector pulls the narrative together into an understandable story, only to be followed by more disintegration and descent into fragmentation and discordance. The only aspect of the book that you could bet on as you near its end is the knowledge that Joana will continue to behave in the same vein as when the book opens. It seemed to me that as she evolved and grew older, her same state of mind grew worse, if that was possible. I'm not sure how insanity is defined, but Joana's life comes close to some kind of definition of it. 

I read An Apprenticeship, or The Book of Pleasures, before Near to the Wild Heart. The same tendency toward disjointedness and fragmentation was present, but much less so than in Near to the Wild Heart. Lispector had by this time grown older (by twenty-five years) and had married and had children. Perhaps that had a stabilizing effect on her. In any case, this book had a reasonably happy ending (Lori and Ulysses end up together) but not before Lori undergoes personal transformation/evolution in order to be able to meet Ulysses at his level. It's a strange book in that he seems to be the mentor and she the mentee, so in that sense it is an unbalanced relationship. She must evolve to his higher emotional and philosophical 'level' (his perception of himself) in order for them to be lovers, per his requirement. I found his behavior to be unkind and cold at times, and I wondered why she wanted to be with him at all, especially when he finally admits to her that he is as 'lost' and confused as she is about the big questions in life. 

Deciphering Clarice Lispector's writing was perhaps an ambitious title for this post. Based on the two books I've read by her, I don't think I accomplished that. But I give myself credit for forcing myself to finish these two novels. Because when she did manage to pull the narratives together, I found myself wanting her to continue to do that, because that's when the books became engaging to me. I understand that others may have different opinions about her writing, and that's fine. But I don't think reading should feel like a chore, and with her books, it did. My next book will be a detective story or something similar; I simply don't have the patience anymore to try to wade through a dense tangle of random thoughts and feelings in the quest to understand life, because it is not possible to reach the goal. Life cannot be fully understood, it must be lived in order to achieve some small amount of understanding about our place in our life and the lives of others. 

Happy 2026!

(image by FreePik)

The society we live in

How would we make it through the years without humor? Without pointed commentary about the weird society we live in? Thank God for cartoonists, apolitical and political. They make us laugh and they remind us of our own small idiosyncrasies and idiocy. As always, Non Sequitur delivers. 

My little garden friend

I've been feeding the birds in the garden for the past two weeks. It's gotten harder for them to find food. There hasn't been any snow, but it's been cold and frost has formed on the grass, plants, and bench, and the ground has become quite hard. 

Last year around this time, I became aware of the presence of a sweet little robin, a European robin. They are much smaller than their American counterparts. He would fly to the bird feeder while I was filling the holders with seeds, and just sit there, watching me. Sometimes he was an arms-length away from me. He was curious about me and unafraid. If I moved to another part of the garden, he would fly to where I was and watch me intently. It seemed as though he and I were to be good friends. But then my life took another turn. 

My last visit to the cold winter garden was in mid-February, after which I battled influenza and then had surgery for a faulty cardiac mitral valve. I didn’t return to the garden until late May, by which time the birds were finding their own food, so feeding them was no longer necessary. Still, I kept feeding them. My little robin friend did not show during the summer or autumn months. But I kept hoping he would. 

One day last week, he suddenly reappeared, and it was as if he had never left. He perched at the feeder, patiently waiting for me to finish filling it. When I sat on the bench in front of the greenhouse, he flew over to be close to me, strolling across the frost-tipped grass near my feet. Then he hopped onto the bench and let me take a few photos of him. Here's a photo of him posing. He's a cutie. 

The Rascals - It's A Beautiful Morning

I woke up this morning and this song popped into my mind. This is the music we grew up with, and thank God for that. It is a cold day here in Oslo, but the sun is shining and that always makes my day brighter. Peace to all. 

Lyrics

It's a beautiful morning, ah

I think I'll go outside for a while and just smile

Just take in some clean fresh air, boy

(Ain't) no sense in staying inside

If the weather's fine and you got the time

It's your chance to wake up and plan another brand-new day

it's a beautiful morning, ah

Each bird keeps singing his own song, so long

I've got to be on my way now

(Ain't) no fun just hanging around

I got to cover ground, you couldn't keep me down

It just ain't no good if the sun shines

When you're still inside (shouldn't hide)

Still inside (shouldn't hide)

Still inside (shouldn't hide)

Still in-, oh, oh, oh-oh-oh

Oo-ooh-ah-ah

Oo-ooh-ah-ah

There will be children with robins and flowers

Sunshine caresses each new waking hour

Seems to me that people keep seeing more and more each day

(Gotta say) lead the way

(It's okay) brand-new day

(Gotta say) it's okay

Wednesday, Thursday, it's okay

Oh, oh, oh-oh

Oo-ooh-ah-ah

Oh, oh, oh-oh

Oo-ooh-ah-ah

Whoa, oh, oh, oh-oh

Oo-ooh-ah-ah

Oh (ooh-ah-ah)

Oh, oh, oh-oh

Oo-ooh-ah-ah

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Felix Cavaliere / Edward Brigati

O Little Town of Bethlehem (with lyrics) - Beautiful Christmas Carol / H...

This is the reason for the season--why we celebrate Christmas. Wishing all my readers a joyful Christmas! 

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.

Les Imprimés - Only Love - BC182-45 - B Side

Another song I love listening to!

Miel de Montagne - J'y Peux Rien (Official Audio)

Love this song! 

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. 

Sia - Snowman [Official Video]

Sweet song for the Christmas season. When I first heard it I thought it was Rihanna singing. Cute animation as well. 

A poem for Christmas--Silent Stars

I wrote this poem years ago when I was a teenager. I have always loved the spirit of Christmas, remembering back to those days when our parents, schools and churches prepared us for the birth of the savior. Life was simpler then, or at least it feels that way from the vantage point of now. I started writing poetry when I was young and have continued throughout my life. It was a focus during my teenage years when little else except my studies held my attention. Writing poetry was a way of escaping into myself, of getting away from the outside world that demanded my utmost attention. I can't even begin to imagine how much the outside world demands of teenagers now, but from what I see and read on social media, it seems that the demands are overwhelming. These were my thoughts way back when......

Silent Stars

Wander across sea and sky--
Stars nightborne in flight.
Carry on across all time--
Centuries ago began your light.
Go on and move into the night.
Your silence is heard then,
Your light has touched all men.
And once upon ago two thousand years,
You shone upon no ordinary man. 

Copyright Paula M De Angelis

All rights reserved.