Bettelheim is proving to be a fascinating read, though I can see why his work might be controversial. Though it's hard to be sure from a popular treatment, his work seems unscientific. He tries to generalize from a very small set of observations, mostly made at a single kibbutz. He makes lots of assumptions which, as far as I can tell, he never verifies. He appears to have drawn a lot of conclusions based on intuition, thought experiments, and Freudian dogma. It's easy to see how another person observing kibbutz childcare could have come to different conclusions. I think he was trying to make some point about institutional care for children born in American slums.

Despite all these problems, I value and enjoy his observations about kibbutz attitudes. The book is very readable. Because he's a psychologist, he has remarkable insights into how children see the world. Psychology is a field that I think I, as a writer and parent, could benefit from studying. I'll definitely encourage my girlfriend and neighbors to read this book.

We had one of our regular neighborhood meetings yesterday, and it was an emotional time for me. The community seems a bit off-balance, perhaps partly due to B's recent cancer diagnosis. She came in at the end and talked to us about it. I admire her courage in addressing this scary topic head-on. I was glad she set such a good example for us. She has no close kin, so we are, in some sense, her family. I spoke during the meeting, but apparently I wasn't clear, because when I told B how we would all miss her, people interrupted me. I felt shamed and hurt by the implied disrespect.

The meeting dealt with a lot of contentious and emotion-filled issues. The triggering events were minor--breakage of a wagon wheel, confusion over how common house cleaning is organized, a committee uncomfortable admitting new members--but they reveal deeper conflicts within the community. I think a lot of people feel guilty over not contributing more time. Others appear critical of parents who don't closely supervise their children. There seems to be less trust than when we started--plus the usual unspoken assumptions, miscommunications, and time pressures. To some, this might sound like Hell--so much conflict and emotional turmoil!

In human beings, strong emotions are unavoidable. Emotions, properly directed, are fleeting, beautiful and powerful. Feelings of fear, shame, and anger can energize us to make positive changes in ourselves and the world around us.

On the other hand, emotions ignored or suppressed fester and grow ugly. When these forces within us find no outlet in constructive action they can overwhelm us. Unexpressed emotions harm our bodies and cause suffering.

In a close-knit community, conflict is unavoidable. Conflict, properly resolved, is a powerful opportunity for intimacy and growth. If we take time to listen to, understand, respect, and acknowledge the feelings and needs of others, we grow in understanding, closeness, and trust. Often the underlying need can then be easily and joyfully satisfied.

On the other hand, conflicts ignored or suppressed fester and grow ugly, and when people try to resolve conflicts through backstabbing, oppression, or violence, they weaken their relationships and hence the whole community.

Our imperfections are one of the places where our human-ness lies.

The energies that wake me early in the morning and spur me to overexert myself on the bicycle come from emotions. I need to stay alert to my thoughts and actions as clues to what those emotions might be.