Tuesday, July 25, 2023

What's it all About?

 



 I've been feeling fractured these days. Dare I say, schizoid, for that's how it appears when I look at the world.

 

Well, the world and its critters seem all right; it's the culture that has gone cuckoo, dare I say schizophrenic?

 

We've been fractured before, as in wartime, but now people are warring on each other, on friends, on family, on the capitol, the government, the lawmakers, the politicians, the pharmaceutical companies, the rich, the poor, and probably saying that God is on their side, and against the other. (As though God takes sides.) 

 

And it all happened around the time Covid19 hit us. That pandemic was more than the flu, it was a pandemic of the human spirit, and nobody knew how to handle it. 

 

During that time, it was as though the populist was stirred, and what came to the surface? The most vocal of the people. Pundits swam in the soup, Propaganda flourished like weeds, anonymous people dumped their brain droppings on the populist, and the populist fertilized their gardens with it. The weirder the droppings, the better the weeds.

 

Each side has its ideology. An ideology is a belief system. So, we are fighting over beliefs. Beliefs are thoughts we keep telling ourselves.

 

"Oh no," says one side, "I have data."

 

"Well, so do I," says the other.

 

"If you read what I read, you'd believe as I do." 

 

Yeah, I would. But what if I see the world as a beautiful place, whole, flourishing, friendly, and kind. Would that help bring it about?

 

Would that be the proverbial ostrich's head in the sad, or would it assist the growth of kindness, generosity, service, and friendship? 

 

And then I watch a documentary on happiness. It is Rainn Wilson and the Geography of Bliss. 

 

First, though, if you follow those amorphous, they.  They say, "The search for happiness is the root of unhappiness." 

 

It's like atoms change when observed. When we scrutinize something, it becomes embarrassed and hides, but let's take a peek.

 

In Iceland, they say happiness is a bottle of cod liver oil. (And reading the label, it does say it helps lift the mood) I suspect that if you live in a place that's dark most of the year, cod liver oil is a good idea.

 

Ghana: Can you believe Ghana is the most optimistic land on earth? Primarily because they have Hope that "Things will be better someday." 

 

Changeability is high on the list. "Everything will work out." 

 

Adaptability, "Embrace what comes your way." Isn't that what biology tells us? You either change it, move away, or die.

 

Expressing oneself creatively. In Iceland, there are more artists, musicians, and writers per Capita than anyplace else.  

 

And then people—being with people and family. We are herd animals, after all.

 

And now, happiness reveals itself like the proverbial sculptor who says he just takes away what isn't his sculpture. 

 

"Happiness lies in moments, and while you have it, you're not even aware; only afterward do you know you were happy."

--Luise Rainer, actress 

Monday, July 17, 2023

This Was a Real Nice Clambake

Hello,

 I dug for clams once, my first and only time, so why in the world am I naming my memoir THIS WAS A REAL NICE CLAMBAKE?

 Because once I wrote of it, I had Rodgers and Hammerstein's lyrics from Carousel (1958) stuck in my head until I gave it as the title.

  "This was a real nice clam bake

We're mighty glad we came

 The vittles we et

 We're good; you bet

 The company was the same

 Our hearts are warm, our bellies are full

 And we are feeling prime

 This was a really nice clambake

 And we all had a real good time."

 

--Public domain: "Published in the United States between 1928 and 1977, inclusive, without a copyright notice."

There are strict rules about using song lyrics, but to my surprise, this song came up public domain. So, I'm printing the lyrics because they pretty much sum up my life. And after being around the college performance of Carousel, in which my husband sang, those words were right on top of my brain.

 I wrote this memoir while drunk. Maybe that explains that while in an altered state, anything can come up. And you know about the brain, it zigzags all over the place, one thing leads to another and sometimes you go, “Huh? Where did that come from?” However, I was not drunk on alcohol or any other mood-altering substances. I was drunk with inspiration. 

 It's Natalie Goldberg's fault. 

 In Old Friends from Far Away, Goldberg said a memoir doesn't have to be an old person's story; I was born in, went to school… Boring. It's for those moments that take our breath away--like on that hot day, you stopped the car by a creek, stripped off your pantyhose, waded into the stream fresh off an ice flow, and felt alive. (Guys, take off your socks, and who wears pantyhose anymore?)

 

I put the above copy on Facebook. I joined this week; after doing the famed stalling to sign on the bottom-line bit, I decided if my publisher is on it, I ought to be. So, you can find me at https://www.facebook.com/Fuzzy7Feathers

 

I keep talking about my memoir, for it has been the object of my attention for a couple of months now. Before those last two months, I hadn’t planned on writing a memoir—I didn’t want anyone adding up the years, but finally, I threw discretion to the wind and felt it was something I had to do.

 

I think everyone ought to write one, to take stock of one’s life and decide what you want to keep and what you want to throw away.

 

It can even be like “Morning Pages,” where you write out all the crap, gripe on paper, then stop telling the same old sad story over and over. For you know the saying, “Neurons that fire together wire together,” meaning you will fix them in your brain.

 

Free up your brain to be ready for the next adventure.

 

Ta Da!

 

Live long, be happy, read my Memoir/autobiography/travel/adventure/special interest book when it comes out.