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

Lemme Think About It...opinions

"Wolves don't lose sleep, over the opinions of the sheep."

Photographic Museum of Humanity...

The Vanishing of Portugal's Countryside

Behind a fable’s title, Maria Oliveira recounts the vanishing of Portugal’s countryside, where her roots unraveled and still are. 

            © Maria Oliveira, from the series Under the Surveillance of Ancient Animals

This series is not the portrait of the changes nor about the rural exodus. Rather, it’s a diary of her re-encounter with the place where she grew up. “I started this project to think about my relationship with the place where I grew up, to capture what this place means to me after years and how it has changed”, she explains.

“The title comes from a poem that I wrote. They are many wild horses around this place, and as the village is more and more empty they are coming closer to the homes. Nature is slowly conquering the place where people used to live”, she explains.

© Maria Oliveira, from the series Under the Surveillance of Ancient Animals

The silhouette of a cow appears within the fog, both majestic and quiet. Oliveira’s images are imbued with silence that we imagine reigning with these landscapes. The black and white of the photographs contribute to distill the atmosphere of a place frozen in time, uncertain, between life and death. And mystery is at every corner, on the form of a wild footprint, an aging dog looking like a wolf, the rays of the moon on nature.

“There is a mystery that this place arouses in me. When I was living there, people were telling me stories about the past. Even if I don’t think about it, it’s half way between a dream and a memory”, she explains.

© Maria Oliveira, from the series Under the Surveillance of Ancient Animals

It also gives a strong sense of uncertainty, as if the past was somehow taking over the present and not leaving much room for the future. The horizon is usually blurry, hidden by the frequent mist covering those mountains. “There is a strong feeling of emptiness that goes inside people living there, which enables them to reach a calm way to approach life. People are very strong in their way to live with only a few things and to accept the thin line between life and death.”

A symbolic photo is that of a person, seen from far away, still, in the middle of a dirt road. “This photo is really representative of what this place means to me. Someone seems stopped in the middle of something. There is nature around, and the person is lost in some ways; it’s just a small point in the middle of the nature.”

See more on Maria’s PHmuseum profile: www.phmuseum.com/mariaoliveira

Stopped to Ponder Series-Sunday morning Soul

"We all have a calling."

They call him the Wayfarer. When asked why he always feeds the pigeons, he  replied..."We all have a calling."

A living soul would seem to be a reflection of our character or those things that describe us...our IsNess.
But let us  assume that some day in the future...we will just call, future day...our souls become fully
emancipated and manifest itself as a way of totally being...

We really do not know if it will possess the character of goodness or the character of no goodness. Of course
we all think goodness, but this might give us pause to ponder the deeds of our character before it becomes a soul.

Wayfarer has a soul void of defenses and desires...the last words he spoke...
"Release all that does not serve you."

From Inside The Sane Asylum...a storm named Matthew.

Yep...Matthew headed this way. Taking my paddle and going way upstream. Will see you guys in a few days...be well...Doc.

I've never really known anyone named Matthew. Met a few, heard about some, but never got to know  their habits of thought. Not that it makes any difference. It just struck me funny that's all. "Struck me funny", now there's an old saying. A lot like the one I remember my dad saying while he and I were doing nothing one day. He looked at me and said "we're sitting here like we have good sense". Still  miss you dad! How did we get off the subject anyway. Back to Matthew. I'm getting ready to come across one named Matthew From The Sea. Just hope you will have a wee little mercy on thee.

A poem by Amar Qamar...

CRASHING waves... SMASHING seas...
Bringing sailors to their knees.
As they struggle to save their lives
Hoping and praying, help arrives.

The stormy seas as dark as coal, 
Preventing the sailors from reaching their goal.
Battered and bruised, but still they fight...
Staring ahead, into the dead of night.
Rocking and rolling as they try to stand...
Hoping against hope, that they soon reach land.

Bleary eyed from lack of sleep.
Down in their cabins, huddled like sheep.
As they're rocking and rolling down beneath
Weary sailors above, resist with gritted teeth.

hours later, as the storm starts to dissipate, 
It leaves a calm tranquil sea in it wake.
The veteran sailors know the battle is over, and they have won...
As they contemplate, other storms yet to come... 

Ole sailors like a bit of focus...
"Its simply when one has an intent on seeing life unfold in the now and evolve to meet the changes of life itself."...Doc

Let Me Tell You A Story...for Halloween

Catherine "Catillon" Repond, known as Touâscha or "The Deformed One" due to her hunchback. She was born August 18, 1663 and lived with her two sisters in the father's family home in Villarvolard.
Poor and uneducated, she remained unmarried at the age of forty.  Her notoriety arose from a series of extraordinary events.
One day, a violent storm battered Mt. Moléson, turning the sky a deep crimson from the blaze of a vast fire. All rivers, the Sarine, Albeuve and Trême were like torrents of flame. The flood soon swept away a thousand trees and twenty chalets, until finally spent against the cliffs of Pré-de-l'Essert. While the people were struggling against the fury of the elements, they suddenly beheld a gleeful Catillon dancing in a whirlwind of flaming clouds around the summit of a volcanic Moléson. She wasn't alone, but escorted by two hideous demons. The three were relentlessly trying to dislodge a gigantic boulder from the side of the mountain. Finally breaking loose, it rumbled through the pastures of Petit-Moléson, crushing the most prized cows, continuing to bound and vault until finally the hand of the Lord stopped it in its tracks forever. The Pierre-à-Catillon is still there to this day, surrounded by pines and recognizable by the figures on its sides: handprints left there by the witch and her infernal companions.

Once Catillon unleashed a tornado, and the accompanying lightning struck the steeple of the church in Avry-devant-Pont. The next morning, the church rooster was found in the parish priest's henhouse! She had supernatural powers!! Once she turned herself into a hare for a day, being chased about Mt. Gibloux by local hunters, but never in real danger of being caught.

Catillon was tried and burned as a witch on September 15, 1731 at Guintzet in Fribourg, the last victim of populist superstition...

Footnote:

Catherine Repond (18 August 1663 in Villarvolard – 15 September 1731 in Freiburg), was an alleged Swiss witch. She was one of the last people to be executed for sorcery in Switzerland prior to Anna Göldi.

In 1730, the bailiff Beat-Nicolas von Montenach, out hunting, injured a fox; the fox got away but, according to Montenach, shouted to him, with a human voice, that he had hurt it. At the same time, Catherine Repond sought refuge at a farm close to Villargiroud away from the bad weather. She was a beggar, reputed for sorcery, well known in the area, where she often performed chores at the farms. She had the same injuries which the fox had had, according to Montenach. Montenach then suspected that the fox had in fact been Repond.

Montenach had her arrested in April 1731 and taken to his castle in Corbières, where she was interrogated by torture to confess that she had flown on a broomstick to the witche's sabbath. She was then taken to Fribourg, where she was sentenced to death for witchcraft and executed by strangulation and burning.

In 1782, Anna Göldi, often called the last witch, was executed, but Göldi's trial was a dubious witch trial, while Repond was openly executed for this accusation.

It’s never been completely clear just why this one particular case navigated the Age of Enlightenment all the way to the stake — whether that was just the breaks, or if there was some larger interest at work that made Repond’s mouth worth closing.
Fribourg, in any event, adopted a 2009 resolution expressing regret for the execution, although it declined to issue a formal exoneration on the grounds that as the state itself was several times discontinuous with the one that put the “witch” to death, such a gesture would be intrinsically meaningless.

From Inside The Sane Asylum...change

Dr Ego Prozac...Underground

That's right, a name change. Now I could start spouting my opinion
 about Personal Development. But I'm not. What actually
happened...I just thought Dr. Ego Prozac's name needed something
 to distinguish it as being different. Hell I don't even know what
Underground symbolizes. In the old days, I went to a record shop
named Underground...but it was actually Underground. Went to an
underground pub once. Or maybe twice.. I remember this great
bookstore in Denver named Underground...or was it Tattered
Covers? Dr Ego Prozac'sTattered Covers.  Something to ponder
for my next change. Back to thebookstore. It was a great bookstore,
but of course that was when we had bookstores. Change...now
ain't that some shits? I hope you saw the post on Two Shits?

The act or instance of making or becoming different...now I gave this some thought. What could one do to

change and experience the act or instance of making or becoming different? Your name. Pure logic...

What else could it be. Just make or become different in an instant. Now there is a whole field of psychology 

devoted to change. They deal with behavior and break down behavior into pieces and one learns each peace at
time...or something like that. You get the picture...right? Requires waiting. It can be looked at from a philosophical level as well.
Its simply when one has an intent on seeing life unfold in the now and evolve to meet the changes of life itself.

So...I think the bigger issue for psychology is "waiting". 

Waiting entails waiting for something. And it is the something that we’re after.
 Or maybe it’s something that we’re trying to avoid. The something could be
something horrible, but waiting for something horrible to happen doesn’t make
waiting any better.The problem, or reality, is that life requires a lot of waiting.
Like a lot, a lot. Couldn't wait...I wanted instant change. So there you have it.

Dr. Ego Prozac...Underground.

Footnote: I just really wanted a reason to spout off on change...Doc

Discovering Ourselves..the most important question of your life.

If I ask you, “What do you want out of life?” and you say something like, “I want to be happy and have a great family and a job I like,” it’s so ubiquitous that it doesn’t even mean anything.

A more interesting question, a question that perhaps you’ve never considered before, is what pain do you want in your life? What are you willing to struggle for? Because that seems to be a greater determinant of how our lives tUrn oUt.

Because happiness requires struggle. The positive is the side effect of handling the negative. You can only avoid negative experiences for so long before they come roaring back to life.

At the core of all human behavior, our needs are more or less similar. Positive experience is easy to handle. It’s negative experience that we all, by definition, struggle with. Therefore, what we get out of life is not determined by the good feelings we desire but by what bad feelings we’re willing and able to sustain to get us to those good feelings.Mark

MansonTHE MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION OF YOUR LIFE

What determines your success isn’t “What do you want to enjoy?” The question is, “What pain do you want to sustain?” The quality of your life is not determined by the quality of your positive experiences but the quality of your negative experiences. And to get good at dealing with negative experiences is to get good at dealing with life... Mark Manson, Personal Development That Does Not Suck...check him out on Facebook and his website...always a good read with new insights on old outsights...Doc

MNovember 6, 20137 minute readby Mark Manso

From The Study...a conversation about possibilities

The Zen Of Not Giving Two Shits...

“I couldn’t give two shits” is a pretty weird expression—I mean, why anyone would want to give any number of shits toward anything is beyond me.

It’s as if some grand shit-giving presentation is the pinnacle of all meaning.

(Not giving a rats ass is another way of putting it, but I prefer the sheer perplexity of “not giving two shits.”)

People often say that the key to being happy and peaceful in life is to tear off the masks we wear and just be ourselves—in other words, to stop giving two shits about who everyone else wants us to be and just be our authentic selves.

The word “authentic” has apparently now been added to the list of buzzwords and clichés in the personal development world, which means we can no longer use it or run the risk of being forever castigated. Personally, I couldn’t give two shits about this (see what I did there?), since I actually like the word authentic. It’s in the dictionary like all the other words and I happen to feel it illustrates my point quite well.

Maybe I’ve learned to not give two shits about this stuff now, but it’s definitely not always been that way. I spent a large portion of my life giving two shits about everything. In fact, I gave more than two shits. I would go around giving as many shits as I could about every shitting aspect of life.

To put it another way, I was a serial shit giver. And it was very tiring.

I’d give shits about what every person thought of me, where I was going in life, what people thought about where I was going in life, how much money I was earning, how much I’d achieved, big life things, small everyday things and just about everything in my existence.

The weird thing was that, the whole time, I attempted to portray someone who was super laid back and didn’t give two shits about anything. I’m not sure how successful I was at that, but underneath I was desperately bothered about everything.

Shits were secretly given in all areas and directions.

What this created was an almost constant state of inner turmoil, worry, panic and anxiety about whether all this stuff I gave two shits about was actually going to work out. Regardless of what happened, I would keep on making up more stuff to give a shit about and was never able to actually sit back and just be at peace with everything.

Footnote: I wanted to share with you the humor and the talents of Michael Glover. I will present this topic over several series in the next few weeks. Each will stand on their own, but follow his story with a dash of folk psychology mixed in...hope you enjoy it. Above all I hope it made you grin...Doc

Zen and the Art of Not Giving Two shits...Michael Glover. Check out Michael's world on Facebook, pod cast and website...

Discovering Ourselves Series...Now

At Play In The Field Of Now...The Art Of Now

I've given this some thought of recent.  I always stop and read those post that highlight "the Now". Always say yep, thats good, real good...now how the hell does one do that?

We live in the age of so much distraction.  But one of life's greatest paradoxes is that your brightest future hinges on your ability to pay attention to the present. Got that? Pay attention to the present, at least  a reasonable amount of attention should be given to it.

Life unfolds in the present. But so often, we let the present slip away, allowing time to rush past unobserved and unseized, and squandering the precious seconds of our lives as we worry about the future and ruminate about what's past. "We're living in a world that contributes in a major way to mental fragmentation, disintegration, distraction, decoherence," says Buddhist scholar B. Alan Wallace. We're always doing something, and we allow little time to practice stillness and calm.

You are not your thoughts you know...

In her memoir Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert writes about a friend who, whenever she sees a beautiful place, exclaims in a near panic, "It's so beautiful here! I want to come back here someday!" "It takes all my persuasive powers," writes Gilbert, "to try to convince her that she is already here."