I’m Glad I’m Not A Lobster

Holy balls, this made my day 🙂

Food.for.Thoughts gave me the Liebster award. At first I thought it was the lobster award and that lobster was misspelled.

‘Liebster’ in German means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing, and welcome.

Whew, I’m grateful I’m not a Lobster, although they are tasty, can be a bit “pinchy”.

Seriously though, Food.for.Thoughts is a great blog. I appreciate her honesty over burnout, depression and how to care for yourself. You will find interesting and informative posts with sprinkles of fun and humor along the way. Check it out!

She’s also lefthanded, as am I. We may be left handed, but we are always right. Ok, bad jokes aside………..

Here are the questions for me to answer:

  1. If you had an intro music, what song would it be? Why? Resiliant by Rising Appalacia because no matter how shitty things get I keep getting back up. I’m like the terminator for Christ’s sake.

2. What’s popular now, but annoys you? I don’t know what’s popular, so I can’t be annoyed by any of it. I’ve always done my own thing.

3. If you opened a business, what kind of business would it be? Someplace cozy and welcoming. A little bit of everything for every mood. Art supplies, yummy snacks, amazing books, smooshy sink in deep furniture, board games, puzzles, a climbing wall, cats and dogs roaming about, a few fire places, real cameras for people to play with etc…

4. Who in your life brings you the most joy? Jase is one funny fucker. My kids. Cricket the Cat. I also have amazing friends.

5. Where is the most beautiful place you have been? Where we live is pretty great. I grew up in the Midwest, so Colorado is a step up for me.

Being Bland Is Beautiful

Photo by me: “Bobcat Ridge” near our home

Do you ever feel “bland”?

It’s how I describe my mood and life at the moment.

I appreciate bland. For years I’ve been a “seeker”, looking for answers, looking for hobbies, looking for “IT”.

I’ve been addicted to novelty and the adrenaline rush of newness. I’ve never been settled.

It’s safe to say most of us go through a seeking phase in our youth. Feeling compelled to carve out who we are. Stand out. Be seen.

For years I sought physical and spiritual perfection. Subconsciously I wanted to prove I deserved to be here. I look back and chuckle at my antics.

Here I am with failing health, barely able to keep weight on my little body. I fluctuate between anger and gratitude.

I’m grateful for the slowing down. I’m letting go of fear, letting go of control, letting go of everything I thought I knew.

I am reminded that I am a spiritual being having a human experience. I am learning to be quiet and listen to Source.

Source is what I refer to as the “non-physical presence”. Call it whatever you want. God, Buddha, Universe. It’s all the same. I prefer Source.

I’m thankful for the stillness within, it’s why I feel bland. It’s a stark contrast to my constant “doing” that I’m accustomed to.

I have a feeling that my being forced to slow down will be one of the best things to ever happen to me.

Here’s a song by Rising Appalachia that I’m currently addicted to. They are sisters with powerful lyrics and music.

Shit’s On Tap

When life serves up a pint of shit, you’ve got 2 choices. Pinch your nose and drink it or find a different tap.

I’m working on finding a different tap. The shit in my pint glass is unacceptable.

I accept that it’s there, but I don’t have to drink it.

Accept and adapt.

Find a new tap.

Giving In

I’ve considered deleting this blog. Thought about what a drag it is to write about pain and fatigue.

Wrestled with Jase over the idea of letting it go. He’s urging me to keep going, I want to give up.

Fact is, our lives have been over taken by my pain and fatigue. When I go to work, I can’t give full vent to the intensity of what I’m feeling. I stuff it down, dig deep, and find a way to do my job until I can fall apart in my car and then back at home.

While at work, there are multiple times my body screams at me to throw in the towel, to give up and go home. There’s a tenacity somewhere with in that keeps fighting, keeps reminding me there are bills to pay. It’s getting harder and harder to “fake it till I make it”. Fuck that.

I can’t find the words to describe what my body is experiencing. Dragging yourself through quicksand with cinderblocks tied to every limb.

Washing my hair zaps my arms with the feeling of burning lactic acid in a matter of seconds, and I have to find a way to clean a home from 4 to 7 hours or work retail for the day?

Survival.

I prefer a bed in a house over an air mattress in a tent. That’s the only thing that keeps me going. I don’t desire homelessness.

I’m terrified that one day my body will protest to the point of just not working anymore.

I’m jealous as hell of those who can navigate illness with no thought toward their finances. Yes.

I. AM. JEALOUS.

I fantasize about not having the added stress of keeping a roof over my head or a car to drive to work to keep the roof over my head.

I question why I’m not in a better position this late in the game.

Well, fact is, I’m not. This is my reality.

All the “why’s” and “what if’s” will not change what is in my life right now.

The co~worker who is so steeped in her high vibrational frequency that when I share a crumb of my depth her response is “I’m so happy for you! That’s wonderful!” I want to rip her head off and shit down her neck for being such a superficial piece of garbage. OOOO but it’s not socially acceptable to feel that way.

If you can’t handle a watered down version of my truth, don’t fucking ask.

In my recent pod cast listening I’ve witnessed Lady Gaga and Gabby Bernstein share their struggles with chronic pain and mental health. I appreciate and love them for speaking out. For having the balls to admit to their followers they struggle. To overcome the stereotypes. They are badass.

I have yet to hear someone speak about illness and financial lack. I’m sure if I do enough digging, I’ll find what I’m looking for.

I don’t know where to put the feelings and challenges I’m facing. They are new and unexpected.

I’m not versed in not wanting to be outside or go on a new adventure. I don’t know what to do with physical lethargy when my mind is saying it wants to go have fun.


The Chore Of Living And The Number Seven

I feel like a dick saying this but being alive feels like a chore. With numerous tragedies happening in the world, I’m an asshole for not feeling better about life.

My deep appreciation for life is buried under physical exhaustion and pain. Covered by the fact that every task I take on is stealing energy from the future.

I’m sick of writing about it, you’re sick of reading about it. It’s like a fucking straight jacket holding back more than my arms. It’s a full on body suit of chains.

Instead let’s look at the 7 Elk I saw on the way home.

Number 7 is the number of perfection, security, safety and rest.

That sands off some rough edges.

The Bedding Leprechauns Are Not Real

Woke up in the pile of sweaty bedding. You know the pile. The tail end of the flu pile.

Once you get out of the clammy pile there’s no getting back in. You have no choice but to wash the bedding. But you’re so weak and dehydrated, you wish the bedding leprechauns were real.

Well, I assure you, they are not real.

Not much of a post. But if too many days go by, before I know it a year will pass………….

All The Things I Didn’t Do Today

photo by me, as usual

I didn’t construct the bed I woke up in.

I took no part in sewing the pillows, sheets or blankets wrapped around my body.

Didn’t come up with the design for my jockeys, t-shirt or hair tie.

I did not design, glaze, cast, dry, spray, fire or test the toilet.

I peed.

I did not grow, cut, then grind a tree to create pulp. Nor did I mix pulp in water and chemicals and then bleach the pulp or remove the lignin.

I wiped.

I did not install the plumbing or dig the 300 foot well.

I flushed.

I’ll speed this up. You’ve got the point? There’s so much I didn’t do today. I didn’t grow, pick or grind the coffee beans. I didn’t manufacture the coffee pot, the fridge, the counter tops or sinks. I didn’t put together my truck, or pave the roads.

In fact, I did not participate in the creation of the many objects and materials that served me today.

What I did do, is mindlessly use all of these things without an ounce of gratitude. I was busy feeling anxious and overwhelmed by life. By not feeling like “myself”. By mere survival. By wishing my life were different.

The reality of this grabbed me by the heart.

For years I’ve read about “mindfulness”. I’ve listened to podcasts on how to achieve it. Spent hours meditating.

A scavenger sniffing out morsels to consume, in the hopes they would change me. A caterpillar munching away, getting fat on information to wrap myself in a cocoon, hoping for metamorphosis.

I became a robot forcing myself to think or say “I’m pouring the coffee.” or “I’m wiping my ass.”

Nothing felt authentic. Just failed attempts at “fixing” another fault of mine. I’ve spent my life feeling as if my existence is a mess to be cleaned up.

I’ve let go of trying to get it.

It’s beginning to sink in and I had nothing to do with it.

When truth works it’s way into a pliable heart, you feel the changes on a cellular level. At least I do. I can’t speak for you.

Thank You For Recognizing My Sunshine

Thank you Goldie and Maja for these lovely nominations. Thank you for writing and sharing your thoughts on blog land. Your presence and bravery is appreciated here. Thank you for reading what I have to say and for not being offended by my sarcasm and liberal use of the word fuck.

Since I’ve never been a rule follower I’m going to wrap these into one post. Also this is my first blogging rodeo and my first awards. I am in the infant stages so bear with me.

Display logos: done 1. Thank the blogger(s) who nominated you and provide a link to their blog. CHECK
2. Write a post to show your award. WORKIN ON IT
3. Give a brief story of how your blog started. ON A WHIM BEFORE HEADING OFF TO WORK. I KEPT SAYING I WANTED TO START A BLOG, SO WHAT BETTER TIME TO SIGN UP THAN RUSHING OUT THE DOOR. MADE ME FEEL OBLIGATED TO TRY. I FOUND I REALLY LIKE IT HERE. IT HELPS TAKE MY MIND OFF FEELING LIKE GARBAGE.

4. Give two pieces of advice to new bloggers. WRITE. WRITE.
5. Select up to fifteen bloggers you want to give this award to. THAT’S A LOT. I ALSO HAVE A HIDDEN FEAR OF IMPOSING ON PEOPLE. NOT SO HIDDEN ANY MORE. I WORRY TOO MUCH
6. Comment (or pingback) on each blog to let them know that you’ve nominated them, and provide a link to the post you’ve created. ALSO ALOT AND I HAVE A REBELIOUS STREAK OF NOT LISTENTING. I CAN BE KIND OF AN ASS HOLE SOMETIMES.

  1. Do you write like you think, or do you look up words to make your writing seem more “fancy?” SCARILY ENOUGH, I WRITE LIKE I THINK. I ONLY LOOK UP WORDS IF I’M SCARED OF USING THEM IMPROPERLY. I TRY TO KEEP THINGS SHORT AND CONCISE.
  2. How does your average Sunday look like? WAKING UP TOO EARLY AND BEING PISSED THAT MY BODY WONT SLEEP IN. NURSING MY WOUNDS FROM WORKING TOO HARD. THERE’S NEVER A PLAN. JASE AND I JUST DO WHAT FEELS RIGHT.
  3. What is the most courageous thing you’ve ever done? I MOVED ACROSS THE UNITED STATES AFTER A DIVORCE. I HAD NO JOB AND NO PLACE TO LIVE. SHIT WORKS OUT
  4. How do you sharpen your writing skills? BY WRITING. HITTING PUBLISH ESPECIALLY WHEN I FEEL LIKE WHAT I’VE WRITTEN IS CRAP.
  5. Do you snore? NO, BUT APPARENLY MY BUTT DOES

You’ve Got Rings In Your Trunk

This is a reflective time for most.

I crawled out of my cave to join Jase and the kids at the climbing gym today. (now yesterday) I peek over my screen and catch a glimpse of the people I love. It stings that I physically cant participate. I think back to the spring when my oldest son took me on my first climb.

Hard to believe that was me.

Just another “ring” in my trunk. Metaphorically speaking that is. It’s different than having “junk in my trunk.”

Each spring and summer, a tree adds new layers of wood to its trunk.

The wood formed in spring grows fast and is lighter because it consists of large cells.

In summer, growth is slower; the wood has smaller cells and is dark.

So when the tree is cut, the layers appear as alternating rings of light and dark wood.

Count the dark rings and you’ll determine a tree’s age.

The rings indicate everything the tree has lived through: drought, sun, water, fires, insects, shade, being crowded by other trees etc……

The inside of the tree is literally a map of it’s years. There’s a cool diagram here.

Since I’m not a fan of long posts, and my head hurts from trying to choose a direction to go with how much richness and correlation there is between our years and the rings of a tree.

I’ll let you chew on it yourselves. Feel free to share any thoughts in the comments.

Happy 2020 folks. The start of another ring in our trunks.

The image above is the tree we cut down this holiday since the kids were visiting. I’m sad we ended it’s life. It’s looks like 2019 was a good year. Thank you tree.

New year, new start!

Oh my, where do i start? Hello! I’m Kasu! You know, the 11 year old you can find in the factiods about us. I am an anime artist, animator, and cosplayer! I’m writing this post because I’m interested about how the whole thing works! So I guess i will introduce myself! As i said I am anime artist and animator. I post my pieces on youtube just for fun! I am also a cosplayer! If you don’t know what a cosplayer is, it is where you dress up as a character from a video game, movie, anime, show, etc. I own a little gerbil my sister named Caffeinated Buns. A silly name for a silly boy!

Living the way I have has been hard but i could not have done it without my friends and family! I love them all dearly and have gotten so much support and love from them throughout my 11 years of living, shout out to my school and online besties! Also having to deal with middle has really given me stress with trying to get good grades and try not get bullied everyday. Though i’m dealing with all of these issues, I still try to push through it all and show the world who I really am!

When you meet me you would probably think “what’s with her?” or “why is she like that?” and i’m ok with that! People can think whatever they want, but I am me! They can’t control me (unless they are my parents). There are parts of me that are brave but I still lack some self confidence. When it comes to my beauty i’m not all that happy with it. I am trying to change and gain confidence, but it will be a big process. On social media I try not to show my face and just show them my art or animations. I try to ignore comments and believe in myself as much as possible

So yeah. I’m excited that 2020 has arrived and so has more of my creativity!I hope to post on here again because it was fun writing this all! Happy new year!