Bird at the Window

Hello, Amorella here. I chose this photograph to begin orndorff’s lesson for the day. About a year ago, at his sister-in-laws, Richard noticed this bird above unflinchingly attempt to fly into the house or to peck herorhis mirror image in the glass’s reflection. This behavior happened many times during his and his wife’s visit. From inside, and without knowing the mindset of the bird, no one could tell what the problem was other than the shear exhibition of relentlessness on the bird’s part.

Human behavior is sometimes similar and it appears to be a fact of nature that an individual within a species a doggedly unorthodox single-mindedness to do herorhis ‘own thing’, as some say. An obsessive-compulsive demeanor is a live in reality for orndorff and others of the human species. Richard has a compulsion to write his mind and has been doing so for the twenty some years since I entered his life. This was his behavior for most of his life but it took an awkward turn with my entrance. Rather than single-minded he became double-minded so to speak. I find this more amusing than he does.

A short bit of background here. In the early eighties, several students approached me within a week’s time and said, ‘When you write on the board you exhibit three different handwritings.’ I thought this was foolishness until I looked at the board full of notes of the day as I had lectured on background English history and a literary period such as ‘The Elizabethan Age’. Indeed three distinct handwritings were present. After a time, I consulted a psychologist at the University of Cincinnati and was tested for brain abnormalities. None were officially found much to my relief.

That was in the eighties, then last fall (2008) I had a complete brain scan to see what was causing minor neurological problems on the left side of my face. Again, nothing much was found, and nothing that had to do with my so-called ‘double-mindedness’. Scans are much better these days so again I was quite relieved to find that my ‘interior writer’ exhibited nothing that can be measure by today’s sciences. With this I concluded Amorella is an adult’s version of an imaginary playmate that I have unconsciously molded into ‘the writer’. Amorella is easy to accept in that she helps teach me about my human behavior from the inside out. As I am fully human and I have DNA test as proof, it appears reasonable that if Amorella helps me see my own sense of humanity; she may also help others to become better acquainted with their own humanity. Thus, I have another reason to make my existential cerebral situation more public. Writing a mostly daily free blog fills my satisfaction of a need for at least one reader, which I have. Besides, it allows me to write for a deadline most every day. The only deadline I originally upon myself for my novels was one a year for three years.

The psychologist told Richard that the mind was much more powerful than many think after several sessions of hypnosis which took Richard back to three years of age and earlier.

This is true. In the earliest session I took myself back to a time before I was born and I saw myself on a medical table and these strange creatures stood nearby and one whispered, “Everything will be all right.” Coming out of the session I laughed and said, ‘Alien-like creatures said I would be all right.’

The psychologist laughed also because he knew I had long been a fan of science fiction and had successfully taught a high school quarter course titled, "Science Fiction/Futures Studies" in the seventies. We both agreed that being under hypnosis does not mean you are conceptualizing the truth, it is more like being in a dream-trance and has some of the senses of dreaming, such as making up alien-like creature to talk to the unborn.

You have nothing else to say, orndorff?

Nothing much that I can think of. Somehow though this seems like we are having an internal session on my inability to write about seemingly imaginary events that have no words to express them, in particular, no nouns. I always think about the old adage attributed to an eighteenth century English philosopher, “Whatever Is, May Not Be”. I used to have those words on a classroom placard back in the seventies and eighties. Its use was to stimulate imagination in the students. It adds to my dark sense of humor.