mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
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Europe is having more fun at President Trump’s expense. After a spoof of Trump’s “America First” slogan from the Netherlands went viral, the Swiss comedy show Deville Late Night made the case for “Switzerland Second.” The bit begins by burning the Dutch—”they so flat, total disaster”—before taking aim at Trump on issues like women’s rights,…
via Switzerland Parodies President Trump’s ‘America First’ — TIME
The dark clouds linger over the sprawling river delta as the sun sets over the water. During the night a fleet of smugglers will carry stolen treasures across the straights to land on the shores of the island nation ruled by trolls. The long shoreline and rocky jagged coast gave plenty of cover for small dories to remain hidden until the moon was dark and the deal had been done. The troll king had forbidden the population to sing and dance, which lead to a mass depression in the troll population. They were required to spend the entire workday grumbling and making false accusations. The opportunities for advancement were few, and depended on nepotism and corruption. Most of the nation was enslaved for the sole purpose of making the world a darker place. After years of this oppression they found ways to slip away across the water into the land of big industry. Over there, singing and dancing were not outlawed, and neither was heavy drug use by employers on their slaves. They gave them meth every day to make them more productive in the factories and on the job sites. At night they took sleeping pills to get some rest after a day all jazzed up at the factory. Most of them took 5 or 6 other drugs, but they did not know why they had been prescribed. They were all addicted to pills, and were all desperately unhappy.
When the adventuresome trolls first encountered the miserable industrial workers they thought there was nothing to gain by visiting there. The workers did not sing or dance, even though they had the chance. They worked their fingers to the bone and had little personal space or time. This factory life looked much worse than the mandatory idle grumpiness at home. The effort made to cross the water seemed like a waste until they stumbled into a rebel teen from industry land. This teen rebel had been crossing the straights to sneak into troll land since she was knee high to a grasshopper. The girl had a troll father and an industrial strength mother. She had a hard time with the other industrial kids because she did not fit in with the repressive regime. She hated the meth and refused to ingest it, hiding it in her hoodie until she could dispose of it. She was bullied in school for being too grumpy and lazy, qualities inherited from her father. She made the crossing first with her mom, who showed her the way. Since then she has been visiting her father on the island on her own. As far as she knows she is the only one of her kind, a product of both cultures. Her parents can’t tell her how they met because there is danger in knowing.
She discovered the constant large demand for peanut butter and chocolate, both of which the troll king had outlawed for the trolls, but kept for himself. There was a long list of banned substances and activities. No smiling, no laughing, no peanut butter cups..what kind of a life was that? She took it upon herself to procure peanut butter and chocolate at wholesale prices then rowed it over to the trolls each month on the new moon. Stealth was of the utmost importance. Much was at risk. If caught she would spend the rest of her life on the island, forced to grump and grumble. Her capture would also mean the end of the only pleasure the trolls still had, the smuggling of peanut butter and chocolate past the authorities guarding the coast. The trade continues to this day, still undercover.
Please visit Sue Vincent’s blog each Thursday for a new photo prompt. You can read the stories and poems inspired by the picture, and add your own submission. It is fun to see the variety.
Welcome to my home on this cold sunny morning in Arizona. Make yourself at home while I put the kettle on. I can serve you coffee, an assortment of teas, and a wonderful combination of grapefruit,orange,and tangerine juice that I am drinking. Citrus season is in full swing here, so we are enjoying our harvest as well as some of our friends’ fruit. I have found a recipe for red grapefruit salsa that sounds really tasty, so I plan to whip that up later today. Please take some citrus back home with you when you go, since we have a super abundance to share with you. Relax and tell me about your life and writing. Did your week turn out as planned?
The year of the Rooster is here to signal a new beginning. Fire rooster is feisty and proud by nature. We have all witnessed the political season and the wild start of the new administration and knew we had crossed some kind of Rubicon. Things have changed radically and quickly in ways nobody really anticipated when the election began. As Hill correctly observed we are more divided that we thought. Although the war with the intelligence agencies was unprecedented, it is nothing in comparison with the National Park Service movement to publish scientific facts. The forms of protest are reinvented and refined daily. The year of the cock is all about reinventing everything. We are seeing that happen, whether we like it or not. Change is here. I did support the women who marched, but I feel very passionate about supporting the scientific community freaking out on behalf of science. I am afraid of dark ages without facts. We can’t afford to wipe out any more knowledge for political expediency. I feel like we all just jumped off a very steep cliff without our flying suits. We need science more than ever.
I wrote another photo prompt piece this week. I went with a free verse. The picture was intriguing, as they always are. That is the point of using the prompt. Maybe this week I will write two pieces of fiction. It is a freeing experience to be able to just make up anything you want from your imagination. My muse will eventually get warmed up to this new way of expressing myself. In the meantime I am retweeting all the @altNationalPark accounts, and joining the army of comedy on twitter.
Thanks for stopping by today to share coffee and some angst. I wish you all a happy and prosperous year of the rooster. May the cock be with us. Join this coffee sharing party each weekend hosted by Diana. Please visit to read, comment, or share your own post with this diverse group of talented writers. Add your two cents here.
Beneath the staircase of the palace, lurking silently in the dark
The master’s old Tudor dynasty armor stands guard as if alive
Little has changed in the basement rooms since jousting was the sport
The aristocrat concerns himself with wealth and status in the court
Royal drifters follow in the entourage of holy soldiers and servant slaves
In service of some magic majesty that never showed up when expected
We thought time would both heal wounds and protect us from the ravages of injustice
The clock of destiny has not been kind to the greedy crusaders
Marking time with the shattered bones of their broken glory
There are no knights left to tell the end of this frightening story
Their legacy has been buried, lost all meaning of chivalry and grace
The names fade fast in history’s book, vanishing without a trace
Don’t trust armor from an ancient time to protect you from the storm
It may be impenetrable and conductive, but it is anything but warm
The photo prompt comes from Sue Vincent’s blog and is used as inspiration for writing short fiction and poetry. Try your own hand if you like. Please visit Sue, or use the hashtag #writephoto on twitter to find other interpretations of this image. Thanks for visiting, gentle reader.
Enantiodromia is a concept made popular by the Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung. Carl is known for being deeply difficult to interpret because of his writing style. He was first friendly but later became a rival of Sigmund Freud. If we were having coffee today, on the day of the women’s march on Washington, I would make an effort to explain this idea. I think if we look at the United States as an entity created by history we can see that our society has become more and more at odds with “the Other”. Carl explains this blame game as transference, or finding fault in others rather than looking into our own responsibility for any given situation. In personal relationships this is common, and now it is the norm for our politics. I have really been thinking hard about this as we approached the inauguration. I share feelings of doom and despair with many, but I am taking solace that we are establishing a new rock bottom from which we can only bounce. Our collective consciousness is a mess, in need of clarity and healing. The United States, the nation, is delusional. We need to face this fact and remedy the cultural issues that we have made such a big deal of establishing. Neither “other” is right. Both are out of touch with reality. This is another way Carl looked at action and reaction. He said there is not so much good and bad as real and unreal. The pendulum has swung to the outer limits of unreality now, and the center is strained to the max. Will it hold?
Please help yourself to tea or coffee, or a big glass of fresh grapefruit juice. It is rainy and cool out, but the wood stove is roaring and the armchair with the ottoman next to the fire is ready for you. Snuggle in and tell me how you are dealing with events these days. I stayed quiet this week, mostly because my car went to the shop for 3 days to be repaired. I wrote another short piece of fiction based on a photo prompt this week. It turned out to be very disquieting, haunted and macabre because my mind was on the national spirit. I am a bit surprised at my own darkness in these short stories. I guess it reflects by subconscious as well as my desire to make up stories. I thought I would be funny in fiction, but I am a bit of a horror writer, much to my own horror.
This is the perfect time for me to segue to enantiodromia, the phenomena. Simply put, it means that any force in overabundance will produce it’s opposite in order to keep nature in balance. If one single aspect of a consciousness is developed at the expense of all others, the equal and opposite reaction will be triggered by the extreme condition of the psyche. Often in individuals this shift precedes a breakthrough into a more integrated personality. Once the “other” is seen in a realistic light an enlightenment can take place.
In Jung’s own words:
The grand plan on which the unconscious life of the psyche is constructed is so inaccessible to our understanding that we can never know what evil may not be necessary in order to produce good by enantiodromia, and what good may very possibly lead to evil. (“The Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales”, Collected Works 9i, par. 397)
I am placing all my hope in enantiodromia to save our society. We elected our shadow, and now we will be forced to view it, ironically against the backdrop of the White House. We can’t blame our shadow into evaporating because it represents (imperfectly) the ideas of “the enemy”. We have to meet it straight on, and see what part we have played in establishing it and then giving it power. This is deeper and weirder than just Republicans vs Democrats. This is real vs unreal, in which everyone has a little of each. We are codepending with everyone and everything. Our journey to balance will require enlightenment and compassion for all those “others”.
Diana hosts the coffee party each weekend from New Orleans. Please visit us to read, write, comment, or just consume a few cups of digital coffee. This party is a wonderful place to keep it real and share your thoughts in a safe, creative atmosphere. Thanks for dropping by this week.
In the darkest moment of winter, heaviness and despair falls on the land. Frightened workers huddle indoors, sharing the heat of a single stove in the dance hall of the dead. The musical sounds drift in from the streets, strings and horns and voices of the past kill time by serenading the future. The dance floor is void of happy feelings but full of feverish dread of the coming days. The waltz goes on forever, the tempo hypnotic, mind numbing. The dancers know all the tribal dances that have been danced for centuries in this place. Circles of spirited colors whirl above the floor. The walls vibrate with deep bass rhythm and drumming creatures representing sacrifices made to tradition. The swift current of time sweeps the crowd up in a cloud of memory and doubt.
The donkey shadow on the wall opposes the one of the elephant wearing a hat. The shadow puppets play the same parts forever, constantly changing costumes to deceive. The audience blends into the puppetry, never minding the strings attached. The glow from the streetlight illuminates the dancing puppets as they pass. The translucent quality of their weary bodies is briefly revealed for a moment. Darkness and bitter cold then quickly envelops each one in dread. Nobody knows if this is real or imaginary. This may be happening in the present, or we may be stuck in each other’s dreams. Is there an escape? Are we under a spell? Will this dance continue? Do we have a choice?
Visit Sue Vincent’s blog on Thursdays to find a photo prompt for fiction. Create your own story to go with this week’s image.
Welcome to a rainy cool afternoon in Tucson. Please take a seat by the wood stove and let me know if you want tea or coffee today. I have expanded my tea collection to fully enjoy and celebrate National Hot Tea Month (January) by rotating white, rioboos, green, oolong, herbal, and chai in various flavors to warm the winter mood. The chocolate chai is very stimulating for those in a spicy mood. Help yourself to some blue cornbread in the skillet, and spread one of the many jams and jellies I have set out for our tasting pleasure. Relax, take a breather with your feet up on the ottoman and your warm drink at hand. Tell me about your week and your adventures. I look forward to hearing about your news and your writing projects.
If we were having coffee today I would tell you I am pleased to have written another short piece of fiction this week. I used a photo prompt rather than one of my ancestors as the subject. I had a good time with it, and plan to continue to write at least one piece of fiction each week this year. I think eventually I might be good at either mystery stories or fantasy style fiction. To keep me going I started a bullet journal to log ideas and find new subjects for my factual posts. I enjoy this too, but have not been very prolific at posting in it. My first journal is general purpose and small enough to carry all the time. I think the size is not ideal for weekly and monthly goals and planning, so I have pulled out a new notebook to begin a larger version tomorrow to go with my portable idea notebook. The large format will help me track my writing goals and develop story lines for fictional work.
I guess our story this week is our birthday month. Both my partner and I have January birthdays. His is in Capricorn and mine at the end of the month in Aquarius. We are downsizing our possessions, so no gift giving is in order for either of us. We like to go out for fine dining when we have an occasion to fête. Bob chose Feast, one of our favorite restaurants, for his lunch party yesterday. It was perfect. I tried to coax him into trying a new place, but he is the Capricorn, and was not into change at this time (or any time, for that matter). He pointed out that I can choose a place new to us for my birthday dining experience. I have a couple of weeks to decide between a few trendy places I have wanted to try.
There is a small gremlin attacking various working parts of my life. The filtered water spout the kitchen sink broke off and needs to be replaced, as does the filter itself. My vacuum cleaner dumped all the dirt on the floor when I started to empty it. The latch is broken, so when I take the canister out I must now always hold the bottom so it will not leak all over the floor I just cleaned. My Triberr feed has lost its mind and forgot to tweet for a couple of days. This digital tragedy is now being averted by manual tweeting of my tribe members posts. I hope this will be resolved quickly because the manual stuff is taking a load of time. Last, but not at all least, my car started saying service engine soon on the dash when we drove to lunch yesterday. It may have an electronic glitch, or a real need to be serviced. Sadly, this is not something I can jerry rig or do myself. The car has not been to the mechanic since last February, so I just hope it is not suffering from some major (expensive) ailment. My mechanic is located very near my home, so I pack my bike and drive home when I drop it off for service. I have my pressing business and shopping done, so I can live without the car for a few days if I must. I consider myself lucky, but still have my fingers crossed that this will be a minor repair, and the little demon who breaks stuff will leave my life of his own accord.
I have reached several conclusions about our national politics and my mission in life. I can contribute to and support change and justice best by doing it in my immediate vicinity. The inauguration ceremony may offer the perfect time to go out to a restaurant to enjoy off peak dining. I don’t plan to watch it, but will probably live tweet it for the comedy involved. The future will be a mixed, highly unpredictable bag. My place as a citizen and tax payer is not to jump to any conclusions, but to pay close attention to what happens now. At the conclusion of Trump’s presidency we can analyze how history is altered. Now we can only guess. We need to tune in and not tune out. Discernment has never been so important.
Stop by Diana’s blog to take part in the coffee share this week. Share your thoughts, your personal stories, with writers from across the globe who enjoy a digital hot beverage. Thanks for visiting with us today, gentle reader.
The Latin phrase esse quam videri is the motto of the state of North Carolina and many other organizations. It means to be rather than to seem. Cicero may have been the first to use the phrase in an essay on friendship. The reference is about authenticity and loyalty in life. When we meet people who are not afraid to be exactly who they are it gives us all courage to claim our own identity. We can never be anyone but ourselves. If our true calling requires sacrifice will we be or just seem to be? This is a time for heroism, gentle readers. Be what you intend to be, and help others do the same.
I have joined Chris Brogan for several years in pronouncing three theme words for the year as it begins. I have had some random success with this method, but sometimes I completely forget the words. I could look them up, but I don’t know what the words I chose were last year, so it did little good to decide on them. Ironically, I usually have a word on my inspiration list that reminds me to practice regularly, or stay consistent. I believe I have not been specific enough about exactly what I would consistently do or practice. My approach to this year’s words, which I almost did not even do, relate to my wellness and creativity goals. Both wellness and creativity are the summation of small but consistent practices. This year I want to put in minimal effort for maximal results. I want to waste no time, money or effort on anything that does not serve me. If what I find myself doing does not pass the three word test in 2016 I will change my actions. I want to do exclusively three things:
I think this year I will print the list of words and keep it in my office where I will see it. That is probably the easiest and best way to stick to it. I wish all my gentle readers a healthy and fortunate year.
Listening with full attention is an art and a skill. I believe one can listen to several layers of reality. I listen to music all day which I pipe into my environment on purpose. At the same time I read posts from all over the world making an effort to truly lend an ear to each point of view. I am sure I edit in favor of my own proclivities all the time. I hear what I want to hear, like all my fellow humans. The written word has less power over the brain to create action than the sound of the spoken voice. We can skim over either written or spoken words by drifting off with our attention. The question is, what do we hear when we distract ourselves from our own reality? Whose voice is creating our desires? Do we hear the voice of the universe, the voice of God?
Prayer and contemplation are designed to create an atmosphere in which we hear or know our purpose. Silent meditation is purposeful to teach the mind to shut up sometimes. Mystics and prophets have made contact with the Beloved by various means for all of history. Silence, and often seclusion, has been the path for many to attain mastery. Those who have not tried to be still and know might be very surprised how many internal voices have so much to say when one simply wants to quiet the mind to focus on the divine. These little chatterboxes are constantly yacking it up in our consciousness, a combo of memory, prejudice, and persona. They are the voices that make excuses for the ego. They are the smarty pants know-it-alls in our personas that are busy composing a response rather than paying full attention to a speaker. They think they are all that, but they are often confused. This does not indicate that we have split personalities, or are unusually fragmented. Everyone has to practice to be able to quiet the mind and keep it quiet. The phrase “a mind of its’ own” applies to your attention. Harnessing the full power of your own mind will be the greatest feat of patience you will ever achieve.