Kurt Lewin – ‘Field Theory ’.

Field theory is used...

‘to understand or to predict behavior, the person and his environment have to be considered as one constellation of interdependent factors’ (1946:338). 

A field is:

1. Everything about a person... 
2. Everything that apparently influence the behavior that causes concern. 
3. At a specific time.

Try to see the gravity force lines and the geographic cracks. The high tension cables suspended by pylons. But the fields and landscapes, flash by as if I'm on a speeding train. My memory doesn't work. Yesterday escalated, front door handle dislocated and disconnected, the phone smashed, the rest is a blur. 

Lewin's theory is the idea that grows into the black box flight recorder.

And I realize as I write this that if I don't remember, then I have broken my vow, never to blank out.

The one thing we established, after I came back from college last night is that ex-service-user gets angry when a person shows signs of distress. As his monologue is a continual parade of horrors delivered in a voice that sounds like it is demanding permission, and as the demands are impossible to meet, inevitably the parade of horrors increases to mildly intimidating behavior which escalates to smashing. 

I assume the fact that I feel it is sensible to hide my feelings is right. 

I have one day off - today!!!! - after finishing my last assignment (yesterday) and starting the next one tomorrow.

On the night when you cross the street

From your shop and your house

To the cemetery

You’ll hear me hailing you from inside

The open grave, and you’ll realize

How we’ve always been together.

I am the clear consciousness-core

Of your being, the same in

Ecstasy as in self-hating fatigue.

That night, when you escape your fear of snakebite

And all irritations with the ants, you’ll hear

My familiar voice, see the candle being lit,

Smell the incense, the surprise meal fixed

By the lover inside all your other lovers.

This heart tumult is my signal

to you igniting in the tomb.

So don’t fuss with the shroud

And the graveyard dust.

Those get ripped open and washed away

In the music of our final meeting.

And don’t look for me in human shape,

I am inside your looking. No room

For form with love this strong.

Beat the drum and let the poets speak.

This is the day of purification for those who

Are already mature and initiated into what love is.

No need to wait until we die!

There’s more to want here than money

And being famous and eating bites of roasted meat.

Now, what shall we call this new sort of gazing house

That has opened in our town where people sit

Quietly and pour out their glancing

Like light, like answering?

By Rumi.