Dita Parker

Tuesday, December 24, 2019

One more sleep

We have a dream.
We have a reality.
We have a discrepancy.
Off to reconcile.

I wish you a mellow Christmas and a hopeful New Year. ๐Ÿ˜˜

Wednesday, December 18, 2019

Cool heads, warm hearts

The year is drawing to an end and we’re all exhausted and perhaps a bit fed up and even disgusted with how the world is shaping up. What is a girl/boy/your (pro)noun to do? Laugh? Cry? Drink? Sink? All tried and true coping mechanisms. That don’t change a thing or make you feel better in the long run. So what do we do, dearest denizens? We pledge ourselves to truth, justice and equality. We say no to despair and roads to nowhere and yes to solutions and ways forward. But where do you find such things? How do you get your hands on a roadmap like that; whatever it is you search and yearn for in this life?

Is it a case of not knowing enough about X that makes you jittery and uncomfortable? Do you find making decisions difficult if not impossible? Do you feel helpless, maybe even vulnerable, and not in a sensitive open to the world kind of way but in a sensitive open to exploitation sort of way?

My solution, or a solution: Read, dearest denizens. Voraciously. A snippet here, a chapter there. Broaden your mind, your horizons, without ever having to leave the comfort of your…wherever you prefer to read. Read about what fascinates you. Read about what baffles you. Read about what scares you. Read to discern fact-based information from biased BS. Read to know what others think on important matters and matters important to you. Read to understand how you are being steered. Ignorance is not a badge of honor, a clean slate, proof of innocence. It’s you being susceptible to disinformation, misleading and abuse. It’s you flailing in the wind, grabbing whatever extended arm seems sturdiest. It’s a choice you don’t make but one made for you and sold to you as your deepest wishes come true/greatest fears dissolved. Don’t fall for that, any of it. A little skepticism, a little self-preservation, goes a long way. Using your knowledge, putting knowledge into action, can change your life and the world.

For better or worse, now that’s another matter. Because knowledge is power. So arm yourself. There are, of course, numerous booby traps along the way. Everything from apophenia thru negativity bias to whataboutism. An alphabet soup to cloud your vision and judgment; we’re all susceptible to some degree because we’re human. But there’s an antidote for that, and I don’t mean a cure for being human. I mean the dangers of biases and propaganda techniques. And yes, it’s reading on them. Get to know the world and how it works. Get to know yourself and how your mind works. If you don’t know about the past/the world/yourself, how are you supposed to understand and navigate the future?

But…but…no one knows what’s going to happen in the next five minutes, let alone five years! Bingo, baby. That’s why it pays to be prepared. As prepared as one can be. [And there are leaders and governments out there not all that concerned with educating citizens properly, specially girls. Literacy is the key to agency. An illiterate person busy surviving is not likely to stir up trouble, not by oneself, or demand that their rights be recognized and respected.]


Of course, you can choose to go with the flow, to react when need be. But that usually means resorting to old tricks and solutions, treading water, hoping for the best…posting before thinking, screaming over others, general aggression and confusion that serves those who benefit from general aggression and confusion. (Hint: and I hope you already practice this, consistently: as the saying goes, every thought spoken out loud should clear three gates: is this true, is this kind, is this necessary? I'm still learning.) Your mind can be the worst sort of minefield, one you may end up navigating with a false self-image and deeply ingrained misconceptions as your compass. The world and everyone you encounter affects you; how they treat you, how they speak to you, whether they ignore you or acknowledge you. We spin a tale about who we are, and just like so much of information these days, it’s not always based on facts.
 
A snippet here and a chapter there amounts to tens of thousands of pages each year, and don’t tell me you don’t have time. Put the phone down, maybe? (Unless it’s your reading medium of choice, of course.) Books are sacred. They’re magic carpets. Time machines. Empathy builders. I’ve watched in horror as people mariekondo their libraries into extinction. And, sure, not all books merit another read and certain types of info need to be updated from time to time, but once a coronal mass ejection shuts down cyberspace, libraries and bookstores will become our temples. And those with know-how will show how.

For all the sound and fury, I still believe that most of us only want what’s good for all of us. So when you feel exasperated with the world, consider this: Most people are kind, decent and altruistic. Not saints but fellow humans trying to do more good than harm. They don’t shout about it, they don’t make a big production of it, they don’t do it for attention or accolades. And they sure as hell don’t do it for money. They just want to get on with their lives, this one round we’re given, and since they don’t know how long their round will be, they try to make the most of it, hoping to leave a meaningful mark instead of a stinking stain. This benevolent streak of ours, that’s what we should focus on. Isn’t that the meaning of life? According to Monty Python it is.

Try to be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.

That’s my Christmas wish, sweetie darlings. For you and me and all of humanity.


P.S. Remember that eye-watering pain in my hip I once mentioned? I have a diagnosis and of course it’s bad news. Nothing I did, something I inherited. Can’t be cured, only controlled. All I can do is keep taking good care of myself. I will be in pain from time to time. I can live with that. So long as my feet carry me, my brain functions, and I wake up not dead, I’ll be fine. I’ll take my cues from a great-aunt in her late nineties. If you ask, she’ll tell you how she’s doing. But you won’t hear her complaining. C’est la vie, baby. And c'est de la merde. And this is the first, worst and last on this subject.

Sunday, December 1, 2019

The secret to eternal youth

A loving heart is forever young. (Greek proverb)

Doting December, dearest denizens. ๐Ÿ˜˜ 
 

Thursday, November 28, 2019

Robert De Niro’s waiting

Temperature: a rainy 5/41. We have a rose in bloom. Poor thing doesn’t know which season it is; was that the winter, is it spring?
 
Eating: a lunch salad.

Drinking: Le beaujolais nouveau est arrivรฉ! Not now, you alkies!! Later.

Watching: trying to find a slot for The Irishman. We’ll need snacks. And an intermission.

Listening: to my son’s rendition of Santa Lucia, which the school choir will be performing on the 13th as per tradition in these parts. A flicker of light in the dark. ๐Ÿ•ฏ️

Reading: Jonas Gardell’s Till minne av en villkorslรถs kรคrlek (To the memory of an unconditional love; a story about his mother and family, and a story about stories, the lies and legends we concoct for fun, in jest, and to shroud secrets and painful truths).

Writing: should probably get started on those Christmas cards.

Thinking: Thank you, dear universe, for this life, and forgive every second I don’t love and enjoy it enough. Happy Thanksgiving to family and friends in the U.S. ๐Ÿฆƒ Keep safe on those roads and the Alka-Seltzer at the ready.

Thursday, November 21, 2019

Everybody report to the dance floor, please!

Because you need a break.

Because a sedentary lifestyle is hazardous to your health.

Because (Kaoma's) Lambada turned 30 this year.

Because Bahia, Brazil. (Where the video was filmed. My second Brazilian home state. ๐Ÿฅฐ)

Because the automatic outdoor lights are on in the middle of the day.

Because it's so dark.

Because it's November in Scandinavia.

Because WTF.


Because Bolsonaro. And all the other plutocrats around the world. ๐Ÿ˜ 

Because, as Mel & Kim used to sing, if you dance, you'll feel a whole lot better.

Shall we?

Canรงรฃo, riso e dor, melodia de amor
Um momento que fica no ar...

Thursday, November 14, 2019

Bright-eyed, bushy-frickin'-tailed

Temperature: 10/50 degrees. In the middle of November. R i i i g h t.

Eating: sensibly; the season to stuff our faces is closing in, and you know you probably will, so how about we don’t jump the gun on this one; it will end in tears and indigestion.

Drinking: see above

Watching: The Righteous Gemstones. Under his eye. Shamelessly. (Oh and have you seen Russian Doll? Whyever not? Natasha Lyonne is to die for. Pun 110% intended. And that song is gonna get stuck inside your head.)

Listening: Gotta get up, gotta get out, gotta get home before the mo-o-orning comes… Oh great. Just great. I mean a Christmas carol! Christmas carol!! Hey, it’s my son on the piano. Am I going to curb his musical ambition and enthusiasm? Hardly.

Reading: Elizabeth Strout’s Olive, Again.

Writing: stuff for work. I fully intend to take time off around the holidays, so no time to muck about now.

Thinking: It’s not just Arthur Fleck, is it? It is getting crazier out there. Same as it ever was, sweetie darlings. Same as it ever was.

Feeling: a slight tickling in my throat; you know, the kind that announces the arrival of some virus or other. Oh great. Just great. Kettle on. ✔️ Zinc out. ✔️ Skip Zumba. ✔️ Bite me. I bite back.

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

Remember, remember...


"People shouldn't be afraid of their governments."

Thursday, October 31, 2019

Because nosferatus need love too




๐•ณ๐–Š๐–†๐–›๐–Š๐–“๐–‘๐–ž  ๐•ณ๐–†๐–‘๐–‘๐–”๐–œ๐–Š๐–Š๐–“, ๐–˜๐–œ๐–Š๐–Š๐–™๐–Ž๐–Š ๐–‰๐–†๐–—๐–‘๐–Ž๐–“๐–Œ๐–˜. ๐•ฐ๐–“๐–๐–”๐–ž ๐–Š๐–›๐–Š๐–—๐–ž ๐–‡๐–Ž๐–™๐–Š.

๐•ป.๐•พ. ๐•ฑ๐–”๐–— ๐–† ๐–Œ๐–”๐–”๐–‰ ๐–‘๐–†๐–š๐–Œ๐–: ๐–‚๐–๐–†๐–™ ๐–‚๐–Š ๐•ฏ๐–” ๐–Ž๐–“ ๐–™๐–๐–Š ๐•พ๐–๐–†๐–‰๐–”๐–œ๐–˜ (๐–™๐–๐–Š ๐–’๐–”๐–›๐–Ž๐–Š). ๐•ฑ๐–”๐–— ๐–† ๐–Œ๐–”๐–”๐–‰ ๐–ˆ๐–—๐–ž: ๐•ฎ๐–”๐–ˆ๐–” (๐–™๐–๐–Š ๐–’๐–”๐–›๐–Ž๐–Š). 

Friday, October 25, 2019

Somebody that I used to know

I recently found out that someone I’ve known for 20+ years had been close by for a considerable amount of time without making contact. We’ve been separated by geography for years now, and have seen each other a mere handful of times over the past ten years. But modern tech provides all the tools we need to keep in touch, and I have tried to keep the lines open, but the lines have grown quieter and quieter over the years. There’s work and family and probably a host of things I don’t know about. And that’s okay.

Friendships shouldn’t be forced, ever. What brings and glues people together sometimes stops applying. Timetables conflict. Lifestyles conflict. Foundations crumble or were never that solid to begin with. And we are two very private, self-sufficient girls in an awfully public, self-aggrandizing world, not prone to splashing our daily life out in the open for the other to track. That’s a conscious, personal choice that comes with a price: make the effort one-on-one or risk losing touch. But…not a single call or email, no attempt to touch base. Nothing. She obviously didn’t feel the need to. And I guess it’s none of my business why. Having said that, is it petty of me to feel dismayed? Friendships are rewarding and enriching. They are also time-consuming and sometimes one-sided. I didn’t feel ours was either.

Maybe we just lacked that zing, that magic ingredient that allows you to pick up where you left off eons ago? We didn’t have that, did we? Time and space managed to do damage. We weren’t invested enough to take care of repairs. I still hope you’re happy, whatever makes you happy these days. I hope your children thrive; they always seemed as delightful and insightful as their mom. I hope you stay safe and curious. And I hope freedom doesn’t become too lonely a road. No man is an island. Many women are.

Friday, October 18, 2019

Hit my heart

An old friend reached out on WhatsApp: “๐Ÿ‘€ u on the internet” 
“??!!” 
She sent me a link.

Oh. Ok. So I tick all the boxes. It’s just that…I don’t like boxes, or labels, or *shudder* diagnosing life and living and the human experience as some sort of condition you suffer from. Life is life, living is living, emotions are emotions, and that’s that as far as I’m concerned. But I recognize myself in that list. Not sure what I’m supposed to do with it. [Nature? Nurture? The wages of being a third culture kid?] I thanked her with emojis, a kiss and a shrug.

Do you recognize yourself, reading that list? What if you do, the world favoring and lauding extroverts, as it tends to do, still? What if you don’t? Does it matter? Live and let live, I say. Let a hundred flowers blossom, and then some. Unless you’re a sadistic bastard bent on making the world a worse place. In which case: may you step on a Lego. No, seriously, step away from the dark side! Dance into the light!! It’s never too late to mend!!! No? Then come see me and let’s see who’s who and what’s what. Oh yes. High-functioning introverts; not to be confused with delicate blooms. ๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿคท‍♀️

Friday, October 4, 2019

Never would I ever

A pilotless plane. Would you board one? They can’t possibly have a protocol and contingency for every billion gazillion things and chain of events; possible, improbable, unforeseeable. So someday, somewhere, somehow, something will go wrong. Yeah yeah yeah, accidents happen with a pilot and co-pilot on board, but with zero pilots on board to course-correct? Just imagine.


Hello, I am Avery Avatar. How may I help you?
 

What the hell’s the matter? Everyone’s freaking out back there. Are we gonna land or crash or what?
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. I am the first official version but still learning. Please use simple words and short sentences if you wish to communicate.
 

Is the plane ok? Are we landing?
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. This plane is a model 010 and new to our fleet. We are scheduled to land at five zero five pm local time. Enjoy your flight with Aero Nautical.
 

But that’s like…what…two hours from now! Why are we gliding down, because that’s how it feels?
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. I am the first official version but still learning. Please use simple words and short sentences if you wish to communicate.
 

So the plane is ok? We’re not crashing?
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. This plane is a model 010 and new to our fleet. Enjoy your flight with Aero Nautical.
 

We are heading toward the Alaska Range.
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. The Alaska Range. Highest Peak: Denali. Peak height: 20,322 feet, or, 6,194 meters.
 

Well, yes, that’s kinda what we’re worried about back here. We’re losing altitude.
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. Our cruising altitude is 32,000 feet. Our cruising altitude is 31,000 feet. Our cruising altitude is 30,000 feet.
 

Oh my god, we’re not landing, we’re crashing!
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. We are scheduled to land at five zero five pm local time. Enjoy your flight with Aero Nautical.
 

Does anyone know how to open this door?
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. This door is bullet, blast and drill resistant and secured for your safety. Enjoy your flight with Aero Nautical.
 

Avery, you need to pull up right fucking now or we’ll crash!
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. I am the first official version but still learning. Please use simple words and short sentences if you wish to communicate.
 

PULL UP! PULL UP!!!
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. I am the first official version but still learning. Please use a moderate voice volume if you wish to communicate.
 

Pull. Up. Go up. Up. Up!

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. I am the first official version but still learning. Do you have a question?


Fuck fuck fuck. Does anyone know how to fly this thing? We need to open this door!
 

Hello, I am Avery Avatar. This door is bullet, blast and drill resistant and secured for your safety. Enjoy your flight with Aero Nautical.


I need to step out of the office for a bit and take a trip. Wish me safe travels? Promise to behave? Hope to see you soon, sweetie darlings.


Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Keeping your head up

I know it's three months away (that'll swoosh by like a comet, mark my words), and all the world doesn't observe it, and some absolutely abhor it, but it's about to get grim up north, so I need some Emilia Clarke & Emma Thompson & London & the music of King George. All the light and luster available to keep afloat. So indulge me. Or scroll off.


So is he a ghost? Or someone she has forgotten because of her health scare? Don't know, don't care, watching it. Even if you spoil it for me. Even if it's as cheesy as baked brie. ๐Ÿ‘…

"There's no such thing as normal. You're just being a human being. It's hard." 


Hear, hear.

Monday, September 23, 2019

Summer moved on

Temperature: a crispy but sunny 10/50 degrees

Eating: a cheese and onion omelette.

Drinking: less and less of the proofed stuff, actually. Less has become more. Which is just as well.

Watching: Spent two hours in the soothing company of good friends and the good people of Downton Abbey just the other night! Now youngest son wants to go see Ad Astra. Why do I feel it won’t be as gentle on me?

Listening: to new music from Keane.

Reading: Saw the trailer so gobbled up Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple over the weekend. Which most likely ruined the movie. But the trailer kinda ruined the book; I kept seeing Cate Blanchett, you see. But, hello, it’s Cate Blanchett, so why am I complaining? Excellent book for friends of the epistolary form. Or just good clean fun writing.

Writing: Yup. Wondering why? So am I.

Thinking: It’s fall equinox today, isn’t it? How I wish the UN Climate Summit could find a balance, come to an understanding, have the wisdom and wherewithal to do something, anything to accelerate a change for the better.

Friday, September 13, 2019

Fridays with Greta

I’ve been taking walks to say goodbye to a patch of forest and the wildlife that inhabit it. Come spring, we’ll have to find another patch to meet up in because that one will have been razed, covered in concrete and steel, and occupied by humans, their pet animals and the odd house plant.

Speaking of which, hubby the green thumb has been hoarding plants. And we already have house plants. Many, many plants. Not that they don’t make our home more livable now that we’re moving indoors, but if summer is awash with light, the winter is long and dark, and those plants won’t make it without some help from their human helpers. It’s just that…indoor grow lights aren’t the most pretty of lamps, and the best ones will make your home look like a drug den with their violet glow, and I don’t want every room in the house to have that wavelength and vibe, but that’s where we’re headed if Mr. Green Thumb doesn’t calm the hell down.

But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, and if this girl wants tropical plants in the Arctic, she has to put up with a certain amount of crack den chic. (The neighbors have spotted those lights. And we have a green house. You bet everyone has asked to take a tour. “So what you got in there?” Meaning: Is this actually a cannabis cultivation facility? Because that’s what one of them joking not joking said he thought it was. Sorry to burst your bubble. Would you have wanted some? And, above all, do we strike you as the kind of people who would?)

[Apparently. Oldest son sat in my car in an empty parking lot chatting with a friend. Too late at night and too long for a police patrol’s liking. They tap the window and ask if all is well. I kid you not, that boy is a cool cat. Too cool for the officer’s liking. They ended up having a staring contest, the officer breaking it to ask, “Are you high, son?” They wouldn’t take his word for it, that too relaxed young man, so they took a saliva test, which my son was happy to give since he was in perfect driving condition. Oh man, I had to laugh when he told me the whole story. I know how irritating and, yeah, probably iffy his unflappable demeanor may seem to those who don’t know him.]

And on the matter of unflappable adults of the future, another big climate strike march is coming up on September 20. (It’s actually a whole week of action.) Have you noticed how (forget the trash-talking loudmouths) numerous people in high places with the megaphone to match applaud Greta Thunberg, how fearless she is speaking truth to power, and how we should all be listening? And then? So you’ve heard her. So you admire and respect what she is doing and trying to achieve. And then? Are you going to…put your money where your golden tongue is? Take action? Do anything she proposes citizens, cities, countries, the globe do?


The Fridays For Future movement, or Extinction Rebellion, they’re not just about the future, the fate of our children and grandchildren, generations we’ll never get to meet. The future is here and it’s already a disaster. It’s a draught in Australia, a hurricane wiping Bahamian communities off the face off the earth, flash floods across Europe, forest fires burning for weeks in Siberia, the destruction of the Amazon. And, dearest denizens, when enough of a primary, old-growth rainforest is gone, there is no going back. The forest enters a cycle of self-destruction humans incited but have no means to stop.

You may have not felt the effects for yourself. Doesn’t mean it’s not happening to someone somewhere. You know that. And believe what you want, deny the climate crisis all you want, but do take time to educate yourself on why scientists believe the crisis is real and coming to you from every corner of the planet. It applies everywhere and affects everyone. Telling genuinely panicky children and young people to sit down, shut up and stop worrying is like saying fuck you, your concerns and your future. Shutting down the adults of tomorrow, stripping them of hope, the current state of things and message we are sending, is a big fat fuck you very much.

We can buy solar panels, electric cars and renewable energy, reuse, refuse, recycle, reduce food waste, take a hundred different steps and measures to help the planet heal. But that will only take us so far. We need to put pressure on the big spenders and polluters. Reject and replace governments and officials that treat the climate emergency as a “niche issue” (as Trump’s did going into the G7 summit). Stir up corners that pretend they live on a different planet altogether and don’t know what we’re talking about. (Yes, Russia, I mean you.) Stop dabbling and get cracking.


At the top of the food chain, the only way is down. Every link we remove reduces our chances of survival. It’s not just a matter of a flood here, a hurricane there, a blazing or razed forest someplace else. This is a matter of eventually running out of food and fresh water, losing a hospitable environment. Tamper with Gaia, pay the price. 


Mother Nature is not cruel by nature, she is just perfunctory. If we act like pests, she’ll treat us accordingly, because in her eyes we’re not the crown jewel of creation, we are but one part of the puzzle she is trying to keep intact. If removing us from the equation will restore balance then that’s the fate that awaits us. Except fate is the wrong word. We will have chosen that road ourselves.

Too defeatist for your taste? But, sweetie darling, this has nothing to do with fate. We're not borrowing from the future. We're stealing as fast as we can with both hands while flipping the bird. In that sense, acting so senselessly, if we keep at it, we are doomed.

This concludes today’s sermon.

I wish you a good weekend, peace of mind, and determination.

Behave.

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

Tarantino-go

And may I just add that I really wanted to love Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood, I honestly did. I've loved so many of his movies, blood and gore and all, but now...I just couldn't get into it. Great acting and cinematography and attention to detail (was Bruce Lee that much of a blowhard, though? I heard some grumbling), a big sloppy kiss and bearhug to the Hollywood of yore, but for me it just didn't click, like either something was missing or there was too much of everything or kinda both. So much depended on your depth of knowledge of what actually went down, but somehow that knowledge just sat there getting bored and soon itchy and then just plain 'ol cranky and by the end I was a yawning, watch-glancing, I'm-sorry-but-I-stopped-caring-45-minutes-ago mildly disappointed gal. There's no accounting for taste, amirite? Is it just me? Does it matter? Oh well.

Monday, September 9, 2019

Cold comfort

Temperature: 15/59 degrees

Eating: a lunch salad. What do you mean at this hour? I got up early. As in with the birds. So it's lunchtime, alright, all right?

Drinking: green tea with lemon

Watching: the geothermal heat pump acting up. Thank the universe it’s a warmish September and not a sub-zero January.

Listening: to migratory birds flocking to plan their journey.

Reading: Impatiently waiting for Atwood’s The Testaments.

Writing: yes

Thinking: It’ll be cold a shower if that pump doesn’t shape up pronto.

Feeling: I need to heat up the sauna. Not a luxury up here, btw, but a standard. Nearly every house/apartment has one. And it’s a-maz-ing.

Sunday, September 1, 2019

And all in the end is harvest*

Welcome to September, sweetie darlings! 

Everyone ready for a new season? ๐Ÿƒ Yes? No? How so?

*from Eurydice by Edith Sitwell

Thursday, August 22, 2019

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

I’m waiting for it (that green light) I want it

Temperature: a humid 20/68 degrees

Eating: a Mediterranean couscous salad

Watching: Greta Thunberg set sail for NYC. Fair winds and following seas, รคlskling!

Listening: to the shit she has to take from trolls, politicians, lobbyists and the corporate sector…which just proves she hit a nerve, a really sensitive one, one that needs to be poked and poked hard.

Reading: what’s new at school

Thinking: The children and youth of today have every right to be angry, frustrated and disappointed, we’re failing this stewardship job of ours and we’re failing them.

Feeling: We can do better, agreed? Sooo much better, in both our private, personal, daily lives, and in a public capacity as citizens of our cities, countries and this planet of ours. Exploit and abuse, or cherish and protect? Which road and MO secures a future for all creatures, big and small?

Friday, August 2, 2019

Just an illusion

I see dead people. They don’t know they’re dead.* Or, rather, they don’t know they’re not real. They talk to me, tell me about their goals and dreams and fears, then ask me to sort it out for them. Help them get there. Get over it. Get through to him/her/them. Get payback. Get in. Get out.

That’s the task laid at my feet. Can you help me? I can try. They are, after all, my creation. It’s all in my head. These imaginary people leading imaginary lives with their imaginary hopes and problems. It’s the writer’s duty to breathe life into it all. Sort it out. Do justice to them. Do right by them. Help them get there, get over it, get through to him/her/them, get payback, get in, or out.

Sometimes it works and everyone lives happily ever after. Or miserably. Depends. Sometimes it’s a dud and what they’ve given me doesn’t add up. Something’s missing and won’t reveal itself. They’re shells and resist being more. They are lost and determined not to alter course. Some are cut-and-dried, some take time, but you know the ones who are worth it really are worth the trip there and back.

Writing. The life of a puppet master. Never let the strings show.



*The Sixth Sense

Sunday, July 21, 2019

Around the sun in 365 days

Temperature: a sunny 28.5/83 degrees

Eating: watermelon

Drinking: lime sparkling water

Watching: Watched The Age of Adaline the other night, drawn in by the…hmm…familiar premise.

Listening: to the sounds of nature now that half the city, maybe more, has migrated to the countryside, lakeside, seaside, home and abroad.

Reading: as fast as I can, though some books just make you want to stop and savor so I do.

Writing: Every chance I get and can squeeze in. No, I don’t know if those words will ever light a screen apart mine. Writing is as vital as ever. Being read? I honestly don’t know.

Thinking: It’s my birthday next week.


Feeling: It’s my personal New Year’s, time to take stock.

Thursday, June 27, 2019

They are not long

the days of wine and roses, aka summer in Scandinavia, so I’m off to enjoy it for a bit with family and friends. We have relatives to visit, people to entertain, and birthdays to celebrate. I’m acutely aware these family summers and adventures are coming to an end. My children are teens, and our oldest is on the cusp of adulthood and soon off to adventures of his own, a life of his own.

I’m ready to let go; it’s my husband who’s struggling with the passage of time. I think we’ve done a pretty decent job raising the next generation of men, and I’m confident they’ll do just fine in life. I’ve done all I can to cultivate their empathy and imagination and self-esteem, their creativity and curiosity. I gave them life, that Once upon a time, but it’s their story now. Can’t wait to watch it unfold.


But first, slow cooking, long lunches and even longer evenings, the endless summer nights midsummer provides. Movies, books, some writing. Brunches al fresco, walks in the garden with Chloe the cat. The city and the sea. With 19 hours of daylight to spare, it feels as if you have all the time in the world, and so much energy running through your veins there’s not much you can’t do. It’s true, sweetie darlings: people don’t run on coffee/tea/rage against the machine but solar power. Recharging as I write.

Thursday, June 13, 2019

#TBT


#DancingDays #BoogieNights #D&B #Dub #House #Techno #Triphop
 

#Apollo440 #Massive Attack #PaulOakenfold#TheChemicalBrothers #TheOrb #TheProdigy
 

First off, I would like to apologize to my hair for the cruel and unusual punishment that was the early 90’s. I hope my face will be as forgiving, I used to do quite a number on the eyes and lips, black mascara overload and ruby stick on repeat. But those were the days of excess on many fronts, the dancefloor in particular, with endless hours of running on rhythm. Okay, some cider and the occasional beer and all manner of whiskey. But no drugs.
 

Not that they weren’t plentiful in the rave scene, but I kind of liked the idea of being the old school oddball keeping to the devil I knew, tipple. And, honestly, I didn’t relish the idea of losing control or waking up in a strange bed with strange people without underwear or memory of what exactly happened and whether I’d consented. (Getting a call from a panicky friend sealed that deal.) I was also a closet bluestocking who knew enough of what that shit was and feared what it might do, as in permanent damage. I felt like my brain deserved better than a total meltdown every Friday and/or Saturday. Yes, I know what alcohol is and does. You’ve got to draw the line somewhere and that was mine.
 

I’m fond of the girl I was back then. She looks like she’s about to step out and have fun, which she did, but to every thing there is a season. I’ve been kinder to my mane and skin since, and I don’t miss the dancing days. I do miss some people from that era, people who dived in with both feet but never found the Exit. They drowned in the Bristol sound, took a pill too many, went for the wrong kind of ecstasy. Too much of a good thing, and all that acid jazz.

Monday, May 27, 2019

Against all odds

What a weekend, folks. And we survived! Both the Ice Hockey World Championships and the EU election. And the pics taken after Finland won 3-1, oh man, they’re priceless! How do people celebrate? They find the nearest fountain and dive in in their undies. No fountain? No problem, just find the nearest market square and within minutes there’s a spontaneous party going on. Foolish Canadians, going in thinking easy win. Awesome Finns, not giving in or giving a toss about NHL stars, stats or what the bookies were saying. What a game, folks.

A new European Parliament is in the making. The populists and nationalists made gains at the expense of the old guard, but it wasn’t quite the sweeping victory they were expecting. The Greens are on the rise and with the times, at least in western parts of Europe. How far can regressive rule take the rest of Europe? I mean how far back in time. Younger Europeans have no firsthand experience or memory of what it was to live under communist rule or fascism. Older Europeans still do. And not many are willing to go back or see history repeating. The names and faces may have changed, but the new boss looks suspiciously like the old boss, the new order like the one they used to have. No thanks, never again.

I hope you remember why the EU, or any intergovernmental organization promoting cooperation, peace and order, was formed. I hope you agree this world still needs these organizations. Above all, I hope that despite their flaws, you don’t give up on them, on us, but commit to working things out for our sake. What a task, folks, beating the odds, but together…why not?

Friday, May 24, 2019

Cheers (drink to that)

Temperature: a lush but cool 10/50 degrees

Eating: some lunch salad in a minute

Drinking: a friend of mine certainly is; when she is happy and when she is sad, when she wants to celebrate or commiserate, any excuse will do, really, but I don’t think she needs one anymore, she needs that drink and since she’s a big girl she’s having it, she doesn’t need anyone’s permission; and her friends have tried tough love, we’ve tried talking sense and health, physical and mental, every angle we can think of, but she’s not listening, she’s withdrawing, and if you’ve ever been there you know the pain and sorrow and horror we’re all feeling watching her drown in something that used to be a fun night out

Watching: The Ice Hockey World Championships, look at those Finns go! (Fรถrlรฅt, Sverige, bara en kan vinna.)

Listening: to my kids make music every chance they get, sure I’m biased but wow

Reading: I want to recommend some: How Democracies Die: What History Reveals About Our Future by Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt.

Thinking: Time to vote, Europe! We got an awesome Eurovision winner (no flashy costume, no fireworks, just a song, a story, not from a hit factory but the heart), now it's time to choose us a new parliament. And please please please not something along the lines of Poland's Law and Justice, which serves neither. In a session that took a mere 3 hours and 37 minutes they went for the jugular, the judiciary, and it's been all downhill from there. Let's not take that path. Let's not bring more provincial bickering, more division, more strong-arming into a house that must work together to tackle the problems that concern and threaten us all.

Feeling: Re the U.S. abortion bans: We're back there again? Women are shocked but not surprised. Also, we're frustrated, and exhausted of having to prove our full humanity when it should be a given. But it's not. It's still not. Not by a long shot and not universally as it should be. Help us out, gentlemen. Don't just empathize; sympathize, out loud. And many of you do and it's wonderful and we're grateful, but let's keep going. Let's keep showing up and speaking up and letting the powers that would like us to sit down and shut up know that we're present and listening and watching closely. And we're not gonna take it. We won't be subjugated or silenced. We are NOT going back there again, we are moving forward, together.

Monday, May 13, 2019

Human league

We celebrated Europe Day on Thursday. What do you mean you didn’t? What do you mean there’s nothing to celebrate?! I thought we agreed we’re neither cynics nor quitters, dearest denizens, hmm? Desperate times call for decisive measures. Desperate times are the perfect time to commit to core values. What do you mean you have trouble remembering what those are? Ah, I think I know what you’re thinking…

Money, numbers, trade cycles, corporate jargon…they permeate everything. The only value acknowledged seems to be market value. More and more you feel not like a citizen but a consumer, a customer. Well, sweetie darlings, if that’s the lingua franca of the world, let’s be really, terrifyingly demanding customers, locally, nationally, internationally. Our money, our choice. Demand to know where the money goes, when, why, what is done with it and who benefits from it. Cui bono? Who stands to gain? (And that is the question. And I don’t mean in a what’s-in-it-for-me kind of way; the treasury is not your piggy bank, it’s ours. I mean it in a do-decisions-benefit-the-99%-or-the-1% kind of way? Are we talking common good or private profit?) Demand transparency and accountability. Your money, your right.


Where people go politicians and policies ought to follow. Don’t sit out elections; local, national, EU level. Ever. Vote. Don’t lament the state of policy or politics or politicians, vote. Vote. Engage. Participate. Challenge. We put our representatives in place and we have the power to put them out of their jobs if they’re not doing theirs. Simple as that. Unless you live in Turkey, for instance, where the ruling party did not get the result they wanted in Istanbul so let’s have another round and see if we can’t get a result more to our liking. Now there’s a country sliding so fast under authoritarian rule they’ve stopped being subtle or sneaky about it. If they ever were, in hindsight. And speaking of hindsight, here’s a common reasoning error:


If the present state of things seems bad, things must have been so much better in the past. So the logical move is to turn back the clock at all costs, disregarding the fact that things weren’t that grand in the past and that the present is a vast improvement. Pining for a uniform culture is the greatest lie of all. But that’s what the rising tide of nationalism and nativism panders: a return to an imaginary past of imaginary glory inhabited by supposedly happy citizens living in a peaceful and prosperous homeland. Where everything and everyone is in agreement. Or else. Which sounds kind of like North Korea. And no one wants to live in North Korea. Not even North Koreans.


It’s an incremental process, stripping us of our rights and liberties, a chance to have our say, to dissent. It’s a local decision here and a legal precedent there. One move might not be alarming but string them and you start to see a pattern. Reason fights against reading too much into things, venturing into conspiracy territory, people tend to see patterns where none exist, and I mean they wouldn’t, would they? But they have. All over the world, time and time again. They most certainly would and could even in our neck of the woods, given a chance. How many rights and liberties can you surrender before you live in a totalitarian state? Better not let things go that far because the day you get your answer it will be too late.


And what is this grudge with government people seem to have? Is it a case of not understanding what the government or the EU is and what it does and what purpose it serves? A government works for the people and the common good. Your government works for you. The EU works for EU citizens. We, the people, make up that union. Its home is not in Brussels or Strasbourg but in every household in the Union. We are all part of it. We all have a part to play and we all have a say in how things are managed. And if you feel they’re being mismanaged then speak up, and vote. United we stand, divided we fall. It’s up to Europeans to make the stars on the European flag align, for our sake. And what is this beef with socialism the Trumps of this world have? That’s like saying this government will never work for all its citizens but…yeah, who does it work for then? 


[And dearest Americans, please try to distill the signals from the noise. You have an administration taking data and services designed to serve you all, paid for with your tax dollars, being suppressed and monetized by freeloading companies selling that same data and the very same services back to you for a profit. Oh, you don’t have to take my word for it. Ask the Department of Energy or Commerce what’s going on.]


The problems our home planet faces observe no borders. They climb walls, they swim channels, they cross oceans, they are airborne. They are our problems. Not something for someone else to take care of but ours. Nothing will get fixed if we start hiding behind walls, across channels and oceans thinking nothing can touch us now. Start thinking that and you’ll have another think coming. We need multilateral treaties and agreements, fact-based decision making, and cultural sensitivity. We need reminders of what we can achieve working together and what we stand to lose if we choose isolation and imperialism. 


What we really don’t need is a nostalgia trip into our not so distant and very violent past when our raison d’รชtre was to go against one another. Just look at our track record. Those were some pretty shitty times. Because our worst instincts always lead us astray. They lead to bullying, blaming the victim, playing the victim, hatred, cruelty, and war. It never ends well. It always ends in death, devastation and centuries-long grudges. Humans at their worst. There’s no pride, glory or victory in being a human devoid of humanity, homo idioticus instead of sapiens. But it’s easy, isn’t it? It’s easier reacting, being angry, petty and vindictive than prudent, benevolent and respectful. The latter require an effort, a commitment, focus. But without that effort, commitment and focus, without a warm heart and a cool head, we are just homo idioticus about to get ours.


We are one another’s safety net, sweetie darlings. We are family, and like all families we have our disagreements and our screaming matches, our conflicting views and values, our frustrations and limitations. But when the chips are down, we ought to pull together to help one another. Because that’s what families do. That’s what friends do. That’s what humans do best.


Oh, you socialist…idealist…dingbat. Aww, thank you! There’s more where this came from. It was so good talking to you, human to human. Now let’s get back to work. Yours. Mine. Ours.

Wednesday, May 1, 2019

May Day

Temperature: 11/52 degrees with Arctic winds blowing in

Eating: funnel cake and churros

Drinking: a local variety of mead

Watching: You get one guess, and one hint: it rhymes with Name of Scones.

Listening: to the sounds of spring

Reading: some stuff for work

Thinking: All hail Saint Walpurga for giving us an excuse to take a mini spring break.

Feeling: Flashes of eye-watering, nausea-inducing pain in my hip; the toll of four decades of busting moves? Better not be, I’m planning on at least four more.

Sunday, April 21, 2019

Cheers for spring

...for life; for a growing soul.
from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

...sweetie darlings.

Friday, April 5, 2019

Enter Sandman

Temperature: 10/50 degrees with severe road dust, a sure sign of spring.

Eating: Just had lunch, thanks.

Drinking: Straight from the tap. And I do mean water, you alkies. (The groundwater is excellent and plentiful up here.)

Watching: The Umbrella Academy. If you like your superheroes varied, your action laced with dark humor, plots that makes your brain sprain, and Mary J. Blige, this one’s for you.

Listening: To migratory birds announce their arrival. Well, hello, and welcome!

Reading: We discussed this, remember?

Thinking: We bid a final farewell to my oldest aunt earlier this week. I sat there thinking how not so long ago it was all weddings and christenings with the occasional funeral thrown in for balance. Is it funerals with the occasional wake thrown in to tip the scale from now on? Because Reaper always gets the last word? Nothing offhand in these observations, mind you, or anything particularly morbid or depressed, for that matter. Just something that sprang to mind amid aging relatives and memories of loved ones lost.

Feeling: A weight on my chest in the morning. But that’s just Chloe the cat. Be well, sweetie darlings, wherever you are.


Friday, March 22, 2019

Hindsight 2020

Temperature: a windy but sunny 5/41 degrees

Eating: in a minute

Drinking: Can't. Working. Maybe later? A Guinness to ring in the weekend? Hadn’t had one in ages, then had one on St. Patrick’s, and goodness is was gooood.

Watching: my TBR lists grow at an alarming pace. (The problem? A) I read in more than one language, B) I only have one brain, and C) 24 hours a day to spare.) This isn’t working. I need a year off. A year to go off and read.

Listening: to new music from Dido

Reading: As fast as I can. But it’s an epidemic! A cornucopia of fantastic fiction and non-fiction sprouting all over the planet. Could you please give me some time to catch up? Sit on it for a bit? Postpone publication, maybe? I might not get to you if you don’t, you know, and I know you want to be read. This isn’t working. Not for me, and not in your favor.

Thinking: Why don’t we all take 2020 off to read and reflect, and start 2021 in a new and improved state of mind. No? Why not? Because the world doesn’t stop for anyone? Who said anything about stopping?! Your brain doesn’t stop until it shuts down for good. And we have months to plan this, so what’s the problem?

Feeling: I may have gone overboard with the exclamation marks. Totally exceeded my quota for 2019, actually. Like three posts ago. Sorry about that. Can’t promise it won’t happen again.


Saturday, March 16, 2019

Land of confusion

Yesterday I watched my children head out to the global youth for climate strike, and burst into tears. Sweet baby Jesus you make me proud. How do I keep you safe from harm? What have I done, bringing children into this mad world? What can I do to alleviate their fears and anxiety and frustration? I felt like calling them back and apologizing, saying I’m so so sorry you have to feel this way, as if we don’t hear you or care about you or your future.

And to those who think these strikes are some great green conspiracy: you are absolutely half right. The children and youth of today are stone cold sober dead serious about securing a safer future for themselves if the ladies and gents of their parents’ and grandparents’ generation won’t. What they see and hear is more or less this: we will keep extracting and exploiting as much as we can for as long as we can and to hell with the consequences. Or the grandkids. Is it any wonder they are prone to panic? Why aren’t we?

Those tears were a visceral reaction I couldn’t contain. Not only was I a mess of pride and joy and distress, I’d seen the news from New Zealand but didn’t say a word as they headed out bursting with resolve and vigor, I just hoped they wouldn’t see it until much later. The mere thought of what was done, no, I don’t want to see the vile violent footage, fills me with not terror or fear but deep heartfelt sadness. The thought of someone hurting my children, anyone’s child...I can’t even breathe through the pain and grief that thought rouses. Children are innocent. Those children are innocent. But so were their parents. And grandparents. Aunts and uncles. Friends and neighbors. Fellow humans in peaceful prayer.

If you or anyone living in your sub-human subculture think you will change the course of history or the fate of nations this way, you are wrong. Terror doesn’t work. Look it up. Never has, never will. This was no act of heroism but homicide. This is no righteous warrior but a murderer. We are all cousins on this planet. Taking a life is spilling your own blood. That’s what it is. That’s all it is. Any perceived justification is but a misguided excuse. And chaos... Since you can’t control the outcome or the consequences, chaos is neither a method nor an ideology.

Is that how you start your mornings on this planet, playing victim of this and victim of that, thinking up excuses, thinking “This is what I’m here for. This is how I’ll spend the one life I was given”? Bathe in hatred, moisturize with bigotry, spray on some eau de loathing, bake a fear cake and pass it around? You are no man on a mission, you are lost. You have lost your humanity, your true north, and every cardinal point; love, empathy, compassion and respect. This is your contribution? Ending lives while squandering yours? There are constructive and destructive ways to live a life, apply yourself, communicate and participate. You chose wrong. You chose a road to nowhere.

As my children returned, bursting with even more resolve and vigor, they did ask about the news from Christchurch. Their reaction? Not horror, at least not the kind that was perhaps sought, but a saddened headshake. What a senseless, heartless act that accomplishes... absolutely nothing. Nothing but the calm and continued resolve to reject thoughts and acts and voices that aim to divide and conquer; leaders leading people astray, demagogues and populists, xenophobes and misogynists, bullies and trolls, all who’d rather follow a moral compass gone haywire than think for themselves.

Friday, March 8, 2019

Same same but different

Temperature: a slushy 4/39 degrees

Eating: Heading out to dinner later today to meet up with my tribe of fierce fabulous fearless women. Happy International Women’s Day! ✊

Drinking: Oh I’m sure there’ll be a toast or several.

Watching: the new Moominvalley series. We need a Moomin emoji. To the Unicode Consortium, let's go!

Listening: to the X Ambassadors

Reading: How to Be a Good Creature: A Memoir in Thirteen Animals by Sy Montgomery, illustrated by Rebecca Green. This is a beautiful book on so many levels.

Thinking: Don’t judge me, exalt me, berate me or underestimate me/anyone based on my/his/her sex. What we do, think and say is what counts.


Feeling: A tad bit under the weather from the flu my son gifted me with. But thanks for waiting until carnaval was done!

Saturday, February 23, 2019

Episode 412 where Dita gets all worked up over the Oscars

I'll show you my utterly unimpressed with the Oscars face if you'll show me yours. Seriously. I'm having a hard time getting excited. And not for the first time. For the many manieth time in a row. Is the show showing its age...being 91 and all...and perhaps a bit...tired...of itself? If there's one thing the movie industry knows how to do it's a facelift, but I feel like they need a more extreme kind of makeover at this point.

Have they finally decided on this year's show? With a room full of actors will they dispense with a script and employ the brow-dampening art of improvisation? Will they simply be mailing those statues in 2020? And can we talk about the omissions? They tell a tale of memory disorder, no surprise when you're 91, really. What is wrong with this year's lineup? Let's see, shall we? Where's Widows? [Did you see this movie? Apparently, neither did the Academy.] Where is Early Man? Joanna Kulig? Emily Blunt (and correct me if I'm wrong but she's never been nominated, not once, a scandal of Dolby Theatre proportions)? Or Toni Collette?

[I can barely stomach horror these days, but I'm glad I watched Hereditary and A Quiet Place. BC EB & TC. And if the Academy doesn't care much for horror then what is their excuse for overlooking EB in Mary Poppins Returns? No, I'd really like to know.] Where is Timothรฉe Chalamet for his rip-your-heart-out-and-fry-it-extra-crispy Beautiful Boy performance? Nomination got lost in the mail? Landed in the hands of PwC and was never seen again? They couldn't spell/pronounce his name? What about The Rider? Zero fucks given, Signed, The Academy. And yay for Adam Driver, but if Adam Driver then John David Washington, right? No? Why not?

Anyone care to explain? What is going on, people? What?! The Oscar goes to anyone who delivers a sincere answer and makes a believable performance out of it.

Thursday, February 14, 2019

Friends, family, countrymen, lend me your ears


"[L]ike a sunrise or sunset...we appear and we disappear, and we are so important to some, but we are just passing through."
~Natalia in Before Midnight

Happy Valentine's Day, fellow travelers. ๐Ÿ’‹๐Ÿ’“
 

Monday, February 4, 2019

Let’s get physi(ologi)cal

Just when you thought that now that Dry January is over, you’re safe…tum tum tum tum tum tum tum tum…that’s supposed to be Jaws, btw…Fit February is here! I know. And no, I’m not here to go all fitness fascist on your ass, whatever shape and size yours happens to be. I would, however, like to mention some seldom advertised truths.

Humans have an on average amount of fat cells. On average. Meaning some people have two or three times the amount of fat cells his/her average-amount friend has and are apt to gain two or three times the amount of weight her/his average-amount friend ever could or would. You can choose what and how much you eat, but you can’t choose those cells any more than you can choose your genes. Hundreds of genes affect weight and among that multitude lurk some that predispose you to gain extra. (And yup, those tend to run in the family.)

So, some people can eat seemingly anything they want and not gain weight, and some feel they can’t eat a thing without automatically putting it on. That’s a simplified picture but more or less how the process works. Weight is not just a matter of dietary habits or self-discipline, as some unhealthy health messaging would have you believe. It’s physiology at its finest, and most infuriating. So much in the human body we can’t control or change. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t react if you start putting on excess kilos/pounds bordering on obesity, it just means that losing those kilos/pounds may turn out to be a lot harder than you thought. Bodies equipped with certain genes, triggers and extra storage facilities will do their best to keep those extra fat cells fed. That’s the job.

Another tidbit: Your gut doesn’t count calories. All an adult stomach requires to feel sated is 400 grams/14 ounces of food. How many calories you pack into those grams/ounces is up to you. And if you’ve heard someone call the gut our second brain, well, consider, for instance, that there are bacteria in your gut that specialize in sugar. That’s what they crave above all else. They create that craving you feel. That’s your second brain in action, insta messaging you, screaming for sugar, and the more you feed that need the greedier the bacteria get. That’s their job.

And where am I going with all this? Gently nudging you on a path to self-knowledge. If knowledge is power, self-knowledge is a superpower. I don’t view ignorance as bliss, I feel helpless and restless in the face of things I don’t understand. I feel calmer when I grasp cause and effect, even if it’s something I can’t change or control. And this need to understand applies to pretty much everything including weight and health. Or willpower, or self-control. Innate trait or skill, willpower? Not sure it matters so long as we decide to view it and treat it as something we can cultivate. And if you want to be better at handling your body’s messages you should take an interest because we are bombarded with those messages all day, every day.

The trick, or a trick (they teach you this in combat training, probably Weight Watchers too) is not to listen. Disregard. Discomfort? Live with it. Pain? Breathe through it. Exhaustion? More to come, so enjoy every plateau. Easier said than done? Easier for those with higher levels of neuropeptide Y. Easier/harder because of the complexity of our makeup. Nature, nurture, genes, triggers, chance, circumstance… As those fat cells demonstrate, we were not created equal, not in the physical sense. But: we are all capable of learning self-command. If you haven’t been that good at it, it will be taxing at first. You will feel fricking exhausted going head-to-head with yourself. But mastery, even a fleeting glimpse of it, comes with a prize, and that, sweetie darlings, makes it all worthwhile.

[Oh great, another bunghole selling the you-can’t-control-everything-but-you-can-always-control-you trope? Nope. Just trying to demonstrate the difference between being at the mercy of inexplicable inner whims and cravings/the will of others and understanding inner workings/how the world operates. Nah, still kind of sure I’m selling the you-can’t-control-everything-but-you-can-always-control-you trope? Good god, what are you still doing here? Move along, my friend! And if it’s diet tips you’re after, I only have one: Does this nourish me? Does this whatever I’m about to put in my mouth nourish my body? We tend to know the answer, whatever the product or produce.]

How do you start on this road to better self-command? I suggest small and simple. A part of the whole disregard business is not thinking too much. Don’t feel like cleaning house? Don’t debate it. Don’t cajole, don’t bargain or bribe. Don’t ask yourself if you’re up to it. You know you don’t wanna. So best not think too much or too long about it. Put on the autopilot (and some music, if it helps) and get on with it. Or when you constantly crave sweets, or a drink after work, or whatever your taken-too-far-an-unhealthy-guilty-pleasure is. That’s your body sending a message you can either listen to or disregard. Take it from someone whose favorite pastime is thinking, someone cursed with a vivid mind. I’m very good at coming up with reasons (read: excuses) for not doing things like cleaning house because I have better things to do with my time, all the time, every time. So, I’m not allowed to argue or debate or reason. I don’t wanna too fricking bad I’ve gotta. End of inner discussion.

You get better with practice, I promise. How to keep going? You can always roleplay. You can hire your very own imaginary taskmaster. Some BDSM may be in order, a Dom/Mistress, your loving authority, who never judges and only wants what is best for you, and will remind you what that is when you start slipping. I summon a drill sergeant, a mean and bossy bastard. I also have another personal trainer for times and situations when that mean, bossy DSgt of mine feels a bit too…heavy-handed. Stupid tricks, you say? Smart tools, I say. Also, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, okay? Whatever helps. Whatever gets the job done, be it a physical or mental task.

And it is a stressful world we live in. Same as it ever was. You will feel overwhelmed and tired. You will fear failure. You’ll be certain you’re underperforming in everything you do. You will make stupid, senseless comparisons when you should be concentrating on yourself. Take care. Take care of yourself. Learn to know yourself, the good and the bad and the ugly. The saint and the sinner. Your triggers and buttons. The true you. You will live in that skin for the rest of your days. You will have to live with yourself, your choices, decisions and possibly even regrets, for just as long. There is no escape and there are no clean slates, only doodles upon doodles upon doodles, layered and interconnected. That’s you. The one and only. So have patience, have mercy, and when you absofuckinglutely need it, have that glass of wine or whatever. I will be there with bells on, disregard the taskmaster leaning on the doorbell, and we will drink to your health and happiness.

Thursday, January 10, 2019

The Possibilists

Temperature: a nippy -5/23 degrees

Eating: Alas, the holiday treats are gone. Salad it is.

Drinking: Alas, the wine is gone. Water it is.

Watching: still working my way through GoT. (April is coming.)

Listening: to this year’s sambas de enredo. Carnaval is coming, and because of the stupid ankle injury I suffered in Singapore, no dancing for me in 2018. Try stopping me this time around, I dare you, fate! (Not really, no, please let me dance, please please please.)

Reading: the Roslings

Thinking: What happens to nature happens to us. When did we get so blind, so arrogant, that we forgot about Gaia, how everything is connected?

Feeling: Shouldn’t we welcome the new year like a child does, ready to learn and explore and be wowed, not full of self-involved gumption but humility? Well, as much as I’d like for us to welcome the new year as that child does, I think this baby needs to hit the ground running. You can’t pretend you’re not aware of climate change/breakdown or what it means. Yes, I know it’s easier than ever to mislead and be misled. It’s also easier than ever to get to the bottom of things, if you really want to. And why wouldn’t you? You don’t want to be misled, a tool, a puppet, do you, dearest denizens? No, you want to fight the powers that feed you muck and malarkey. Because you won’t be lied to, or lie to yourself. Because you know what is possible when you really put your mind to and back into something. Because, unless you’re E.T., you do have a horse in this race, skin in this game, insert your favorite idiom depicting being up to your eyeballs, no, your hairline, in this; you are, after all, a living, breathing, sentient being on planet Earth. Part of the problem but, more importantly, part of the solution.