At Play In The Field Of Now...Silence

At Play In The Field Of Now...Silence

Yesterday...that's an unusual word when you look at it, but our yesterday can yield to us a moment in today.

I spent my yesterday with great friends. Sharing good food, fond memories, a laugh or two and yes a yesterday moment for today.

It was a cool damp night looking across the calm water of the lake...when she said, "it's so quiet you can feel the silence." Exactly was my thought. Well said and well shared my friend.

“There are many fine things which we cannot say if we have to shout,” Henry David Thoreau observed in contemplating how silence ennobles speech. A year earlier, he had written in his journal: “I wish to hear the silence of the night, for the silence is something positive and to be heard.” It’s a sentiment of almost unbearable bittersweetness today, a century and a half later, as we find ourselves immersed in a culture that increasingly mistakes loudness for authority, vociferousness for voice, screaming for substance. We seem to have forgotten— that “silence remains, inescapably, a form of speech,” that it has its own aesthetic, and that learning to wield it is among the great arts of living.

The fertile silence of awareness, pasturing the soul... we seem to have most hastily forsaken this pursuit — and yet it is also the one we most urgently need if we are to reclaim the aesthetic of silence in the art of living.

Thanks my friends for sharing your yesterday...Doc

From The Study...a conservation of possibilities

As I am sitting at my desk on this eve of another new year, I am reminded of a quote from
a young writer in Melbourne, Australia by the name of Beau Tarplin...Beau, please
forgive me if I do not get it exact...it goes something like this...

"Don't stress so much about settling on a path for your new year.
The division of time into years is a human invention,
And the fact is, every moment of every day is an opportunity for resolution and growth.
So, when the fireworks fly, relax and enjoy the moment.
The rest will come to you."

So...as we honor the passing of 2016, I leave you with my prayer from last year

For those I may have wronged, I ask for your forgiveness.
For those I may have helped, I wish I could have done more.
For those I could have helped, I ask for understanding.
For those who have helped me, I am grateful.

Resolved to sense more beauty, express more gratitude, and experience more
forgiveness...Doc.

Scribblings From Inside The Sane Asylum...sensing the season

Sitting on my porch this cool evening, just pondering  this thinking concept, when I interrupted my thought with another thought..".what the hell am I thinking? You don't know crap about that  stuff." See I interrupted my thinking. There must be a dozen ways to interrupt your thoughts. What I've noticed, they always involve another thought, an endless stream of words that describe our world. Language. It's amazing how busy it keeps that part of our consciousness we call mind.

I recall a time walking with my grandfather. It was late one evening as we were making our way from the barn toward the dog trot house. I always wanted to carry the milk bucket but he was a wise man...just said the pale didn't fit my hand. Well back to my thought...see how easy you can get off thought? Now what was I thinking? Damn, now back to the story. 

About half way to the house, his broad hand pushed on my chest. "Quiet," he said. He paused and turned his ear to the sky and stood there in silence, just listening. I remember the silhouette of his face in the fading sky, and the sound of his voice as he answered my obvious question..."I'm listening for the farthest sound."

Interrupted his thought with sound. Now that was clever as it seems today, but it was and still is a good method.  Silence thought and think no thing from time to time. Listen for the farthest sound.

As we go about our daily lives, we tend to assume that our perceptions—sights, sounds, textures, tastes—are an accurate portrayal of the real world. Sure, when we stop and think about it—or when we find ourselves fooled by a perceptual illusion—we realize with a jolt that what we perceive is never the world directly, but rather our brain’s best guess at what that world is like, a kind of internal simulation of an external reality. Still, we bank on the fact that our simulation is a reasonably decent one. If it wasn’t, wouldn’t evolution have weeded us out by now? The true reality might be forever beyond our reach, but surely our senses give us at least an inkling of what it’s really like...I assume that would be the case with you?

May you be filled with the joys and delights of this season...Doc

The Human Conservancy...field office

Once upon a time men took into your temple the first fruits of their harvests, the flower of their flocks. But the offering you really want, the offering you mysteriously need every day to appease your hunger, to shake your thirst is nothing less than the growth of the world borne ever onwards in the stream of universal becoming. Teilhard de Chardin, “Mass on the World

Wishing you peace and joy...Doc

From Inside The Sane Asylum...up shit creek

Yep...you guessed it. No post for a spell. Going up shit creek with my paddle and take a holiday break. Enjoy your family and friends...talk to you soon.

Partially true...partially fiction..as I recall

I was reflecting on those things I still remember this morning. Didn't take me very long as my recall seems to be in remission. Good memory, but my recall is not worth a shit. I remember growing up in this little sawmill village of Fisher. The entire village, from houses to church and Commissary owned by Four L Lumber Company.  A two room school house, sidewalks made of wood, mule skinners making their way to their company owned homes after a long day of logging. I remember Mr. Dewitt as he would always crack his mule skinner whip for my amusement. And how could I forget the gossip of the Funderburk girl and Miller boy being caught swimming nude in the mill pond. I remember Mrs. Tannahill saying she saw a bright flash of light the moment her son will killed in a logging accident. The rumors of how Mr. Curtis beat his wife. The visual and feeling of Christmas as each child, black and white, received a gift from the village tree. Compliments of "The Company"...of course.

Aunt Mae as I called her, lived across the street. She was important in my life. I had this ole bicycle
that was to tall and my toes barely reached the petals. Worked fine until I had to stop. Even at that young age a metal bar between the legs HURT! This is where Aunt Mae came in. She sat on her
porch each evening chatting with her neighbors, waiting for her husband and drinking a cup of coffee. She always sat in one of those cow hide, straight back chairs as I recall.  I would mount my ole bike from my porch and ride the dirt street that circled the village. Usually made a pass around the school

house, made my way up a steep hill in front of the Company owned Commissary and back home. Would yell to Aunt Mae to "catch me" and then make another round as she made her way to my rescue. Don't know why I called her Aunt? She sure saved me the recall of a lot of pain though. I could have rode up to my porch and stopped myself, but I think we needed those daily encounters of salvation. I know I did. I often wonder about Aunt Mae and to this day see her smile and feel her embrace as I rolled to a stop.

My first and second grade school teacher was named Ms. Farsheets. :). You read me correct. I came  home one day and told my mother that Ms. Farsheets called me a scurvy elephant. Of course my mother asked her why. I think it was at Wednesday night church service or maybe at one of those revival nights where our little village would all be saved and have a revival of sorts in our hearts. Said it would come in handy when the roll is called up yonder... Anyway, when confronted, Ms. Farsheets promptly responded, " I did not call him a scurvy elephant, I said he was a disturbing element."


Funny...those things we recall when recall has to make another lap around the block to be embraced by our memory...

...pictures from my little village, some years ago...be well, make peace with yourself and get along with it all...Doc

                       May you be blessed with much peace and joy during this holiday season.

From Inside The Sane Asylum...super, supermoon rising

Jess and Ego pondering the Super SuperMoon rising...

Ego: "Jess, think of it as consciousness = (energy), works as a TV-projector and there exists infinite channels= (dimensions) at once, simultaneously...and those channels contains pictures = (realities) and when those pictures go quickly through the TV-projector it creates the illusion of motion and time.
All dimensions and realities exist simultaneously. Existence is no subject to time. Time is only a concept within the existence. So you see, the Universe is not out there. There is no out there. It's nothing more than an optical illusion. Sight, sound, taste, and smell are "illusions" from our senses. Everything exist in the same "location". You are shifting from parallel reality to parallel reality billions of time per second that have a frequency that match with your vibration.

So you see Jess, that huge moon on the horizon is not that big...it's just an illusion."

Jess: "Makes you want to put on an English riding helment and have one of those out of body experiences of the world coming to an end."

Stopped To Ponder...democracy

A democracy need not believe that the majority will always reach a wise decision. It should, however, believe in the necessity of accepting the decision of the majority, be it wise or unwise, until such a time that the majority reaches another decision.
– Bertrand Russell 

Scribblings From Inside The Sane Asylum...

Just A Thought This Morning...A little cooler perhaps, but the mornings of our lives always yields their little surprises. The sunlight breaking over the ocean casting her spell of shadows. Storms forming on the eastern horizon. The sound of high tide as the waves white with foam caress the sand. The sound of a sea bird lost in migration, or maybe just Jonathan Sea Gull spreading his greetings of another day.

"Life is more than just looking for fish heads."
Jonathan Livingston Sea Gull

So many things we can distinguish in our thoughts...
an idea or opinion produced by thinking
or occurring suddenly in the mind.

An idea, notion, impression,
a theory, and many more.
Deliberate, perhaps.
Or just musing, ruminating, or even brooding.
All the thoughts that make it so.
Try reflection, rumination and mediation,
It all leads to contemplation does it not?
Pondering and deliberation.
Introspection? I reverie that reflection.
Thinking...
Is it not language that makes all thinking so?


And who sits at your pilots wheel?
Some say fate steers us through,
But most of the time it's just you.
With your cargo of language
and yes your fate,
Press on...the morning still breaks.

For some odd reason, out of nowhere, I recite the poem Invitcus in my head, as I watch eight pelicans disappear toward the southern shore. Thank you William Earnest Henley. Great combination of words that made thoughts which one never forgets. First damn poem I every learned. Ms. Grumbly, as I called her. My eighth grade English teacher, or was it Language teacher?  So much wisdom in that lady.  I remember well her thoughts on how I was steering my ship. " Young man", she spoke, "If you don't learn how to spell and write, you will amount to No Thing." How smart she was...nope, not a good speller or skilled on the rules of verse...and now I amount to No Thing...but I lived long enough to use this damn Spell Check....

...just language, sparked in my brain, making a sea of thoughts in my mind, packed and stored away for the journey.


It matters not how strait the gate,
    How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
    I am the captain of my soul.

And so it goes...Doc

Scribblings From Inside The Sane Asylum...

Know What I Mean?

I have a confession..one of those confessions that feels good to make. A confession of regret.... even though we say "we want to live a life without regrets."  That's a tough affirmation. I do have regrets. Just think of the things I could have done better. What beauty in life I have missed but just  did not notice. How many people have I trespassed against, with me not knowing? How many conversations have I had that with just one more word of encouragement could have made a difference. When was I not present and that small child tried to get my attention. What life celebrations have I missed. How many times have I turned my eye from others who cling to the torn fragments of Humanity, and just needed to be acknowledged. Did I ever laugh when I should have cried. And why at three score and ten do I regret at all?

These are not burdens you see, these are my life's lessons. I try to acknowledge as many as I can and let my mind know they were only choices I made. Some with knowledge, some not so much. Some made out of boast and confidence and some not so much. Just a collection of my life experiences.

That brings me to my deepest regret..."wish I would have made the distinction... that through all those years doing my best, I could have done better." But how would I have known?

When you finally collect enough of those experiences you can look back and kinda grade yourself on your tribal behaviors. Yep, that sucked...and still does kinda. No, not kinda, it still sucks.  Something like that. I tend to focus on the ones that suck first. But just any kind of system to make you smile about some pretty stupid choices. It was only today at lunch I wished I had not ate that large bowl of chili with beans...a regular bowl would have been fine. But right now that grande bowl really sucks. See what I mean? It can be any stupid shit we do, and hell, sometimes I do them over again, knowing full well I'm going to regret it. So don't give me that bull shit about no regrets...

Just teasing. You stay strong and determined not to have any regrets your whole entire life if you wish. Just don't eat that big bowl of chili and beans... know what I mean?

 I even regret this silly scribbling...just teasing...:)RSVP vs Regrets Only... Doc

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Therapy...intuition

"Can one really distinguish the difference between their intuition and their subconscious fear?"

Notes From The Underground...

The “primary consciousness,” the basic mind which knows reality rather than ideas about it, does not know the future. It lives completely in the present, and perceives nothing more than what is at this moment. The ingenious brain, however, looks at that part of present experience called memory, and by studying it is able to make predictions. These predictions are, relatively, so accurate and reliable (e.g., “everyone will die”) that the future assumes a high degree of reality — so high that the present loses its value.

But the future is still not here, and cannot become a part of experienced reality until it is present. Since what we know of the future is made up of purely abstract and logical elements — inferences, guesses, deductions — it cannot be eaten, felt, smelled, seen, heard, or otherwise enjoyed. To pursue it is to pursue a constantly retreating phantom, and the faster you chase it, the faster it runs ahead. This is why all the affairs of civilization are rushed, why hardly anyone enjoys what he has, and is forever seeking more and more. Happiness, then, will consist, not of solid and substantial realities, but of such abstract and superficial things as promises, hopes, and assurances.

Psychology offers another humbling epiphany. There is a vulnerability that you must accept once you start to unravel the biases, fallacies, and heuristics. The story you tell yourself to explain yourself is imperfect. Your personal narrative is bent and twisted and inaccurate, and that's beautiful because it's true for all of us.

I take great pleasure in accepting this because I feel a unity in the humility, in the recognition that we are a community of messy, stumbling, fumbling beings tumbling through space wrestling with a confusing gift of consciousness. For me, that has led to a sense of empathy I never knew until I saw my own flaws reflected in the species as a whole, and the flaws of the species reflected in myself.

And so it goes...Doc

Stopped To Ponder...division

There are no absolute boundaries and divisions in this world, only transition points where one set of relations yields prevalence to another. 

So in essence...we are Edgewalkers...

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Therapy...coping Practice

"Coping...it is an on going daily process. Some days better than others. Deal with it..."

Balancing the anger and hurt of your yesterdays with the fear and anxiety of your tomorrows is an awareness, a consciousness that your brain and mind are trying to weave it's way through life without dying. The brain does not know the difference. It just wants to retain its oxygen to live. Welcome those moments of adjustment each day. May as well... they will always show up like visitors to your door. Your bag full of emotions just needing a little attention which could lead to new choices... or not. Just a friendly thump on the head. We can ignore and live with tension and dis ease, or we may even think about our choices and draw some conclusions about our personal state of affairs. We may ponder those choices. Sometimes we even change our beliefs about our life and try to live with those new thoughts for a while. Like a warm sweater in that moment, but this new way of thinking takes practice to test your new perceptional bias.

These visitors show up as perturbations in your mind. Like...thoughts that go bump in the night. Interesting how the mind/brain works. No, a fascinating process. You see, you can be an observer of your thoughts and even participate in that inner dialog.

There is one dynamic that seems to hold some truth about our current state of being human. It is this..."a person will not alter behavior of thought until the pain of remaining the same is greater than the pain of change itself."

You see, your brain and mind are always active in states of "dis ease". If not acted upon we will surly suffer "disease". Sometimes we fail...we learn...try again...coping practice... as we weave our way through this beautiful process called living and dying in three quarter time...No guarantees, no time out, and no do overs...

Your success in life is not measured by the happiness you attain, but by the way you adjust to life after it hands you a bum deal...it is learned behavior...so practice...Doc

Lemme Think About It...why is it?

"Why is it...when you are driving you turn down the music so you can see the street address?"

Lemme Think About It...dreams

"What do blind people dream?"

Footnote:
 The more recollection a person has of sight, the more visuals will appear in the dream. This becomes less and less as they age, the memory of vision fades away.

People that never experienced sight, fill their dreams with the other senses they process in their daily life.

Their dreams contain sound and smell; they can even register the sense of taste and touch. An interesting fact that jumped out for the researchers, was that people who are blind from birth are four times more likely to have nightmares than people with vision.

They couldn’t come with a conclusive answer on how this is possible. They did however come up with a theory. Nightmares are a way for our brain to cope with threats surrounding us in our daily lives. Because one of their senses is missing, blind people tend to be more fragile in situations, where another person would normally relay on his sight.

Spam...

Ever Considered This?

Lemme Think About It...

"There's a really good chance that the thoughts in my head
will eventually exit my mouth."

From Inside The Sane Asylum

Happy Halloween...

Lemme Think About It...really

                                                   "Would mad cow dis-ease be considered the same as moo dis-order?" 

Entry Note To Self..."a lot like people that way"

Denys: [to Karen, whose horse has run away, leaving her at the mercy of an approaching lion] I wouldn't run. If you do, she'll think you're something good to eat. 

Karen Blixen: [staring at lion] Have you - Do you have a gon ? 

Denys: She won't like the smell of you. 

Karen Blixen: Shoot - shoot it. 

Denys: She's had breakfast. 

Karen Blixen: Please shoot her. 

Denys: Well, let's give her a moment. 

Karen Blixen: [as lion comes closer] Oh my god, shoot her ! 

[Lion approaches Karen then wanders off into brush]

Karen Blixen: Just how much closer did you expect to let her come ? 

Denys: A bit. It wanted to see if you'd run. That's how they decide. A lot like people that way. 

Karen Blixen: She almost had me for lunch ! 

Denys: Well, it wasn't her fault, baroness. She's a lion. 

Karen Blixen: Well, it wasn't mine. 

Denys: Doesn't that outfit come with a rifle ? 

Karen Blixen: Ye-ah, uh. 

[looks around]

Karen Blixen: On my saddle. 

Denys: Better keep it with you. Your horse isn't much of a shot. 

Entry Note To Self...journeys

"If you don't change your direction, you may end up where your headed."

Reminds me of something Ole Opossum man told me not long ago... "You know the direction your headed is a lot more important than how fast you get there?" Something along those lines. A little different from  " the journey is more important than the destination," which stands on its own, as just enjoy the journey.  A systemic belief of sorts. Your choice to where you are going and who you want to be are the parents of enjoying beauty along that journey to your destination. It's "all" about the choices we make, don't you think?

I was walking alone the beach the other day looking at the destruction of Sir Matthew. Sad to me...not so much with how Matthew touched and bruised the shore, but of the human garbage that spills from the sea. Was there ever a Humanity to lose? A topic for another time, but it hurts to see something so unnatural.

Speaking of unnatural...each time I walk the beach I look for what "they" call Sea Glass. Just busted bottles of all shapes and colors. When these bottles are broken,  plummeted and scared by the ocean they become an item that gives for many a moment to look down and focus. Focus on something that does not look normal among the sand and char of shells. Something unnatural looking... I noticed that if you are walking along with others, and they are also looking for this fools gold, and one stops and looks down, everyone stops and looks down. That does not mean a damn thing...does it?  Just something I noticed along "that" journey that day. Also noticed this...that every time you find a piece of this Sea Glass... "look harder because there will be other pieces here," will be heard, from someone... It's true, and now I have formed a heuristic belief around that fact. That leads us to some deduction. Is it some physics involved that puts two pieces together or is it the heuristic belief kicks in and you look a little harder for the beauty you are searching? Really doesn't matter...does it? It is a choice of sorts. Playing with both science and spirit, or beliefs if you wish.

It was a beautiful morning. I still recall the cloudless dark blue sky meeting the horizon. Two shrimp boats slowly working the Gulf Stream. The ocean had returned to a more natural rhythm that day. She was more relaxed and wanted to please your senses once more. A few sea birds returning after being hunkered down from a week of strong winds. My mind spoke to them as a kind jester... "I just downloaded an app to identify you by name and your habits and lore. I will get to know you more." Just a way of saying thanks...gratitude for showing up.

As a rule of thumb, (see another heuristic belief), in the warm months I walk downwind first to get the cool breeze walking home and just the reverse in the cool months. That day was in between so I just flipped a coin...damn, another heuristic thought. Down wind as I recall and the journey began.

A few months back, I wrote a post about the beach memorial I experienced on one of my morning walks. The fragile lady released the ashes in the gentle waves and placed a yellow rose as the tide carried him to sea...I was about 500 yards from that very spot when I spotted this yellow rose. Was it just the physics of the ocean that put it there that day? Or maybe I was just looking a little harder...to soothe the spirit of my memory?

Did it not begin with a choice and a belief? Why did I choose this journey this day? Maybe to just experience that fragile soul, still on her journey of sensing beauty, expressing gratitude, and experiencing foreignness. Or is it just Life? What a Journey...don't you agree? If you don't change your direction, you may end up where your going...

At play in the field of Now.."just thoughts"...Doc

Entry Note To Self...a week after Matthew

My daily walk...the beach after a storm yields many surprises. Mostly the surprise of human garbage. Seems the sea spits it out as a reminder to care more deeply for our planet. Cool morning, strong east wind from a new Hurricane spinning in the middle of the Atlantic making high tide a tricky walk. My eyes fixed on the litter of plastic. Bottles, storage bags, pvc pipe, bic lighters, caps, sun glasses, and shoes looking for their mate.

Then among the debris and sea weed you caught my eye...you traveled far. The Amazon Jungle or perhaps the mountains of Costa Rica. Your mother is called Monkey Ladder. A sea pod that can grow three feet long, and as they fall to the jungle floor you emerge and float from the streams, to the rivers, then the ocean caught by the Gulf Stream and pushed ashore by Matthew. Were you really the reason Columbus sailed further west in search of your origin?

Legend has it that you bring good luck to the finder and they will have a blessing. Legend also tells, if the finder gives you to another, the other, will live a blessed and full life...Sea Heart they call you...

You as a possession I will not keep,
for you will bless a life,
that may well touch another so deep...Doc

From Inside The Sane Asylum...give me a break

Every language has its own collection of wise sayings. They offer advice about how to live and also transfer some underlying ideas, principles and values of a given culture / society. These sayings are called "idioms" - or proverbs if they are longer. These combinations of words have (rarely complete sentences) a "figurative meaning" meaning, they basically work with "pictures". Like "birds of a feather flock together."

I don't want to pull any wool over your eyes, but to make a long story short and  please take this with a grain of sand, since it comes from the horses mouth and not hearing this through the grape vine. At times I don't play with a full deck of cards. Off my rocker you could say. There are times I go barking up the wrong tree and at the drop of a hat will beat around the bush. I don't think I have ever cried over spilled milk, but I am guilty of adding insult to injury and I have been known to put all my eggs in one basket...

Enough of this bull shit, I need a break before I taste a dose of my own medicine. I don't want to ever be caught dead...what a visual that is...be back soon...your guess is good as mine. Just experienced a blooming idiom...Doc

From The Road...going home

From The Road...

As I recall it was an early Sunday morning headed for Royal Street. It's hard to tell in New Orleans, where there lives a thin line between Saturday night and Sunday morning.

His appearance and demeanor was a nicely judged blend of bird man and lucky man. But who am I to judge. He looked me straight in the eyes and asked, "Where you been"?

"Between a little rock and a hard place would be my best guess", I replied. "Where you been pilgrim", I asked?

"Never been called a pilgrim, but guess that will do", as he grinned, and quickly let me know that where you going is more important than where you been. Wished I had thought of that line to say to him, but he was right, just not that important for me to know where he had been. Not sure I really wanted to know for I fear I may not understand.

It is in these moments you just see a man. A man getting along the best he can. He had no interest in Wall Street, Real Estate or a retirement plan. Not the least bit concerned what was on tv. He did talk about family, friends and even disclosed to me where I could buy some chicken necks on special. What we talked about did not matter. He hummed in between our human verse. Hummed a tune that had no melody or rhyme. Sounded like echoes coming from another room. Echoes of his past I presume...after all not that important  for me to know where he has been.

It was a brief encounter on that corner between Decauter and Douphine Street and our parting statement went something like this:

"Well Pilgrim, where you going", I asked?
"I'm going home next Wednesday", he replied.
"Where is home", I asked ?
Says he, "I'm not altogether sure yet, but that's where I'm headed on Wednesday."

I still hear his humming in my ear and I often wonder where he lays his head. Home I suppose. Always more important to know where your going and not where you have been...

His name is Ronnie...still holds that corner spot between Decauter and Dauphine Street

Home

Just beyond your imagination
There is a place called home
A place where everything is nothing
And nothing is everything

There is a place where peace exist
It's a place visited by few noted men
It's a place where one magnifies the vision of all
It's a place that we call home... Thank you Ronnie, my friend, for the lesson...Doc

The Wayfarer ...

by Stephen Crane

The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
"Ha," he said,
"I see that none has passed here
In a long time."
Later he saw that each weed
Was a singular knife.
"Well," he mumbled at last,
"Doubtless there are other roads."

Going to take some time away, enjoy the fall and family...hope you do the same...see you down the road...be well and kind...Doc

From The Far Side Of The Glass...anxiety

One important source is shedding light on anxiety: Google. As reported by economist Seth Stephens-Davidowitz, searches for anxiety have doubled in the past eight years. Certain terms are typed more often: ‘anxiety at night’ is skyrocketing, while ‘anxiety in the morning’ is also on the rise.

A second factor is opiate withdrawal. Stephens-Davidowitz notes that searches for that term are climbing even as prescription rates are falling, which could be accounted for by the black market and increased heroin addiction.

Interestingly, memory plays an important role in both addiction and anxiety disorder. With addiction, positive reinforcement creates an insatiable urge to revisit the experience. An addict’s aggressive nature partly depends on recalling the feeling of the experience. Soon this spirals into negative reinforcement, where a potential inability to return to that state keeps the user focused not on pleasure, but fear of withdrawal.

Front Porch Psychology...anxiety

Anxiety can be thought of as the workings of a strong healthy brain that’s being a little overprotective. It’s not crazy and it’s not troubled. It’s overprotective. 

From Inside The Sane Asylum...Who Dat Whodunnit

You remember Who Dat post? Well just received this correspondence from Who Dat and wanted to share with you his tale as he saw his behavior this past weekend and my response...

Dear Doc.

Well yes I am a part of the  Who Dat Nation!! and Whodunnit  will try and break this down for ya'll. First the large juice jar is pretty appetizing after a couple of them. And yes my middle name is Hurricane with experience!! 

Moving on, yes I did have the lucky socks on my hands, but it didn't work out the way I wanted it to. But with that being said, I don't remember screaming, must have been the juice jar, yea it was the juice.

This Saturday I will need more than socks on my hands to win, maybe one LARGE GRANDE SOCK to cover my body!!  That's a great idea Whodunnit, yeah that's the ticket!!

With all that being said, thank you Doc for keeping your word and making me my first post!

See you on my next appointment Doc.

Peace, I'm out,

Who Dat Whodunnit

My response...

Dear Who Dat Hurricane Whodunnit...

Always a pleasure making someone a first. I'm not sure about the juice jar elixir evoking primal screams but if that's the way you experience it we will explore that during your next appointment...seems you may have been potty trained much to early, but we will leave that for another discussion. Maybe it was those long trips you took to the out house growing up in Tennessee. I say that from experience. I remember well in the deep woods of Louisiana, hearing similar screams. Usually when the Sears & Robuck catalog was all used up...you may have those experiences blocked in your deep subconscious...a topic for another session. We have made a few changes in our office so when you come for your next appointment the meds will be on the left and the straight jackets on the right. We also need to revisit your day passes and curfew times.

At any rate, just forget the grande sock. You might just try a full body orange spray on. Glow in the dark stuff. The color goes well with the juice jar elixir and hell it makes it easier for us to find you in the dark should you be late for curfew...

Lol...good write Who Dat Hurricane Whodunnit..you are showing great promise...did you really eat those rum pickled eggs?

Kind regards,

Dr Ego Prozac...Underground 

Primate Zoo Keeper

The Sane Asylum

Discovering Ourselves...hold space

What does it mean to “hold space” for someone else?

It means that we are willing to walk alongside another person in whatever journey they’re on without judging them, making them feel inadequate, trying to fix them, or trying to impact the outcome. When we hold space for other people, we open our hearts, offer unconditional support, and let go of judgement and control until they can fly.

Here’s the deal. The human soul doesn’t want to be advised or fixed or saved. It simply wants to be witnessed — to be seen, heard and companioned exactly as it is. When we make that kind of deep bow to the soul of a suffering person, our respect reinforces the soul’s healing resources, the only resources that can help the sufferer make it through.

Entry Note To Self...in this our life

Nov-el a noun...a fictitious prose narrative of book length, typically representing character and action with some degree of realism.

So you see our lives really are a novel...a fictitious prose of some length, representing character and action with some degree of realism...

In This Our Life,

Every person's life is worthy of a novel. One's life is a true novel, and one they can believe in. Philosopher Jonathan Glover, pondering the notion of what he calls "self creation", argues that self creation tends to make life like a novel, penned by a single author. This process begins early. Children themselves are emerging novelist, assembling their life stories from the numerous emotional incidents in their daily lives. They are the tellers of the stories they are, busy assembling it into coherent life histories.

In our daily lives we are ad hoc novelist. We are both the hero of our own plot and it's creator. So in a very real sense, we are the author of our lives. Do we not sense the drama in people's lives, the plots they live through, the suspense they create, the discovery of unique characteristics and the microcosmic commentary each life offers? And what about their inevitable creative passage through problematic experiences?...a novel indeed...What will you name your novel?...Doc

Discovering Ourselves...Focus

Field of llusion...can you find it?

To use the metaphor inspired by the brilliantly forward-thinking 19th Century American psychologist, William James, our visual attention system works a lot like a spotlight that scans the world around us. This ‘attentional spotlight’ represents the finite region of space that is occupied by our focus of attention at any given moment. What falls inside the spotlight is consciously processed while that which is outside is not. By moving our eyes around a visual scene, we can shine our spotlight on any area of the environment we want to inspect in detail. In fact, in-depth processing of an object, a string of text, or a location can’t be carried out unless it is first brought inside the spotlight of attention. Our conscious awareness operates like a spotlight, bringing the details that matter into sharp relief.

We have a localized spotlight of attention because taking in all the visual information from the environment at once would overwhelm the brain, which is a system with limited resources, much like a computer. The spotlight allows your mind to focus only on what's important while ignoring the irrelevant. This makes reality comprehensible.

Now imagine that this attentional behavior is going on all the time. As the threat bias filters out the positive and lets in only the negative, worry and fear flow through the cognitive system. The result is an overly threat-conscious appraisal of the environment. Essentially, to the anxious, the world literally looks like a much scarier, unhappier place.
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Lessons From The Sane Asylum...life

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.

Louise Erdrich

The Beauty In Humanity

Let us not underestimate how hard it is to be compassionate. Compassion is hard because it requires the inner disposition to go with others to place where they are weak, vulnerable, lonely, and broken. But this is not our spontaneous response to suffering. What we desire most is to do away with suffering by fleeing from it or finding a quick cure for it.” 

Henri J.M. Nouwen

The Beauty In Humanity

The beauty of the human soul is not in the pretty face, it’s found within the heart, and hands of those who look, and stay. With all the daily violence going on around the globe, we might feel that the beauty of the heart and hands are lost. But did humanity really get lost? 

Let us revive our hopes for the human condition, and give each other faith in our fellow humans. Sense beauty, express gratitude and xperience forgiveness...Doc

Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.

Iain S. Thomas

Lemme Think About It...never thought of that

"What if you do die of anxiety, created by something that didn't happen?"

From Inside The Sane Asylum...Where Y'at?

Who Dat Whodunnit...a cool dude. Shady in a cool way...ran into him at JT's. A little bar along A1A. The soft white sand leads through a screen door to the nearest bar stool. A U shaped bar serving several savory characters. They have this large juice jar at one corner. Filled with pickled eggs and other pieces of mass I could not identify. Anyway, it's not the jar I'm trying to get too. It was the face reflecting through pickled rum juice that captured my attention. It was a neighbor and friend of mine from around Pensacola by way of three or four hurricanes. Originally from Tennessee as I recall.

We were at the same hotel when Matthew blew by. Just happened by his door during the Tennessee-Texas A&M game he was streaming, while wearing these orange socks on his hands. Did I mention he was screaming at the top of his voice? Well he was. Grown man...

I don't think the behavior was as much about the game as it was we both chose this part of the world to inhabit based on our scientific research. Safest place along the coast and here we are. Watching a grown man put socks on his hands to cast a winning spell on a football game in a hurricane...Tennessee lost in overtime by the way...I think the voodoo worked for the game...But it's my opinion that when it goes into overtime you have to take the socks off your hand and put them somewhere else. Not sure where. But hey, don't listen to me, I chose this place to live...

Back to JT's...he poked his head around the pickle jug and said, "Who Dat?" The only thing that came to my mind was Whodunnit? So here's the thing...He wanted me to put him in one of my post. I told him I would as soon as I had a good name for him. An altered selfie of sorts. So Who Dat Whodunnit, this ones for you...Where Y'at?...Doc

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Therapy...should

 "The constant message of 'should' we hear from our mind and then we take to the world around us       and it becomes they also 'should'," 

From The Study...a conversation of possibilities

I recently ran across this article from Big Think regarding the premise that we are living in a Matrix and we are in fact a computer simulation...much like in the movie Matrix. Gave me much relief. I knew I had been hacked...what a thought and you know how I like thoughts of possibilities. Think about this possibility...

Do you think we’re actually living in a gigantic computer simulation like the one in The Matrix? If you do, you’re not alone. In fact, you’re in some very famous, very wealthy company. Near the end of a recent New Yorker article about Y Combinator, a Silicon Valley tech-company incubator, this paragraph raised the possibility we’re in need of a red pill:

Many people in Silicon Valley have become obsessed with the simulation hypothesis, the argument that what we experience as reality is in fact fabricated in a computer; two tech billionaires have gone so far as to secretly engage scientists to work on breaking us out of the simulation. 

Stopped To Ponder...Fear

"Fear is its own enemy. It does not want to feel it's self,
because it fears it's own self."

From Inside The Sane Asylum...glancing blow

Glancing Blow...yep, made it through the acquaintance with Sir Matthew...What a ride! I stayed holed up at this hotel about ten miles inland from the barrier island. Weathered it pretty well. Great hotel and staff that seemed to have practiced this routine as a critical emergency. 

Never will forget the first evening of the stay. I ventured to the lobby to see what liquid entertainment might be had. As I entered the lobby there was a mass of people. Picture this...all of the baby boom and greatest generation generation. I thought I had died and God placed me at Live Oak Retirement Center. Made me grin of course.

My first thought..."I selected a very safe bunker. I'm sure they would know the safest." Then I remembered the settlers of Denver. Seems they were headed west to find their fortunes in gold but got to the foot of the Rockies and said something to the effect, " Hell NO!".  They stopped right there. Think that may be the case with these settlers. Headed west with their lady and their walkers to save one last day of toddy time. Got ten miles west, saw the first hotel and said "Hell No!" Stopped right here. What a sight.

Toddy time it was. George and Mertle talking to Bernice and Bernie. Harry was out of it, sitting on the coffee table looking at the fish in the aquarium. His wife Bert standing close by ruminating if she turned on the porch light, or something like that. Then there was this one that came gliding by...Walked right up to me with a wine in hand and said " I own the mortuary in Flagler Beach." Now that was funny as hell! I mean really funny. After I finished bending over from laughter it only seemed reasonable for me to ask the name of his Mortuary. " Creg's with a C". Now that was funny too. "Well Creg, with a C, so nice to meet you", finally breached my lips. "No, my name is Allen and this is my wife named Mary", he spouted. Now that was funny...back home today and all is well with a grin on my face thinking about Allen and his wife Mary...Thanks Allen. Hope all are well...forgot to ask if Allen is with one L or two?...Doc