The problem with honesty and lying..........

When I asked him why he had lied, he just looked at me,

shrugged his shoulders, and answered: 

-What you don't seem to get is that lying is only

 wrong if you get caught, and me, I'm way

too smart to get caught.

For the purpose of this post my definition of lying

is to deliberately state something as true though

knowing it to be untrue.

According to a number of research carried out into how 

often we lie, the statistics show that most of us do so 

almost every day.

And we do so for a number of reasons such as:

To avoid punishment, to protect ourselves from retaliation,

to avoid embarrassment and or shame, to embellish or

''play down'' a story/event/experience, for personal gain,

to protect ourselves and or others, etc. etc. etc.

Thing is, when we convey a message, we use not only

words but also body language, including micro-expressions.

(micro-expressions= involuntary facial expressions that occur 

within a fraction of a second)

Being able to read micro-expressions can be very useful

when detecting dishonesty but so can our ''gut-instincts''.

Gut-instincts, so those in the know say, are based on

lived experiences. 

 Sometimes even if we want to believe that 

what someone is telling us is true

our gut-instincts may tell us that it isn't.

Most societies value truthfulness and honesty

as fundamental building blocks of a fair and

just society, and in my view, when it comes to creating

meaningful social bonds, they are viewed just as fundamental.

''Honesty and truthfulness fosters trust, trust fosters 

a bond, a bond fosters a deeper connection, a

deeper connection fosters a sense of belonging,

and belonging fosters a sense of physical and mental

well-being.''

(Citizen Z)

Life is complex and sometimes we may be faced

with situations in which neither the truth nor a lie

seem to suffice.

Times when honesty may be more hurtful and brutal

than a well intentioned ''half-truth''.

(If I tell him that nobody seemed to get his jokes

he will be devastated. I'll just tell him how much

I liked some of his jokes.)

Life experiences have taught me that when people 

ask for feedback, always lead with the positives

and do not use the word's ''what you should've done'' 

..........ever.......

Lying for the purpose of misleading, manipulating,

distorting, or hiding misconduct will in my view,

more often than not, lead to distrust and relationship

problems.

Brutal honesty is no more honest than a lie,

as it tends to lack kindness and compassion .

''When people speak with brutal honesty,

what is most remembered

is the brutality,

not the honesty.''

(Maya Angelou)

''When people speak words with compassion,

what is most remembered

is the kindness,

not the words.''

(Citizen Z)

About the image: acrylic on canvas

some editing in Elements

Just let it go......easier said than done

I don't know about you but I've always had trouble

with the expression ''just let it go''.

When it comes down to it, what does it really mean?

I understand fully what it means when it's about tangible

stuff(something one can touch), but how does one 

let go of stuff that's intangible( something one can't touch such as

 thoughts, feelings, memories, etc. etc.)?

For me, it seems as if ''just let it go'' belongs with

the ''tough love'' turn of phrase.

Concepts, that in my view seem to be much easier to say 

than to define.

''Just let it go'' although perhaps when it's said is meant

with good intent can often be experienced by the

receiver as a ''reprimand/judgement''. 

Why? Because it can be interpreted as if we supposedly

know that we should let it go yet failing to do so,

we ourselves now have become responsible for our troubling 

thoughts and or emotions.

Basically, we are choosing to hold on to something

painful when we could just chose not to do so.

Chose? How? Is there a right amount of time for

holding on to a painful/traumatic experience?

If so, who determines that?

You. Us, we do.

It can be easy to get stuck in narratives if we don't

challenge them. 

Even though we can't change what happened in the past, 

the good news is: we can change how we interpret what happened.

We can do this by reframing/reexamining/reevaluating

our narratives.

Practically, this means to exchange old thinking patterns

for new ones.

''That was then but this is now."

''Thoughts and feelings are not facts.''

''Sometimes I make mistakes but not always.''

''I can't change what happened but I can change how I view it.''

''I can't change some situations but I can change

my attitude.''

Letting go as I view it, is a process(a comma), not a

stoppage(full stop).

It is getting out of the habit of regurgitating thoughts and

feelings that hurts us by refusing our minds to replay 

narratives in the hope of coming up with better

outcomes.

Like a pot plant needs watering in order to thrive

so our old grievances need exposure to flourish.

Good thing is, we are holding the watering cans.

This gives us the control of how much water

our pot plant gets.

So if we are watering ''too much'', 

then we need to change that.

Change, in my experience, begins with awareness.

''Awareness is the birthplace of possibility.

Everything you want to do, everything

you want to be, starts here.''

(Deepak Chopra)

Once we become aware of when our thoughts and feelings

 revert back to past hurtful experiences we

have an opportunity to take notice of how

this affects what happens in our bodies.

''When I think of xyz .... I feel upset/sad/angry/etc. again.

I don't like feeling this way and since I can't change what 

happened I will exchange the painful thought for a 

good thought.''

I deal with PTSD and all manners of anxieties

daily and in order to deal with it all there are some

things that I have found to be very helpful when it

comes to letting go that I would like to share with you.

When I find myself ruminating I tell myself out loud: STOP.

The brain can't help itself, it has to stop the thought.

I then quickly find a better thought.

I allow myself to feel sad/angry/upset/hurt when I feel 

the need to, .... but only for a limited time.

I focus on the here and now and deal with what

I can deal with in the now.

''The truth is, that unless you let go,

unless you forgive yourself,

unless you forgive a situation,

unless you realize that the situation is over,

you cannot move forward.''

(Steve Maraboli)

''There is no if only I had.......

there's only this is what I can do.''

(Citizen Z)

about the image: ''Inuit woman''

While thinking on the plight of many

indigenous women in Canada I suddenly

imagined this face.

Acrylic on canvas, some editing in Elements

Tough love? Or a lack of boundaries.........

I don't know how many times it has been pointed out to

me that ''with some people one just has to use some

tough love''.

As in my opinion words are often mere approximations 

consequently there can be many different interpretations

of the words we use.

So I looked up some different versions of ''tough love'':

The act of treating someone sternly/harshly with the intent

that it will help them in the long run.

A way of dealing with someone who has a problem by 

withholding kindness so that he/she will try to solve

it themselves.

Ever since it was first suggested to me that I should use some

''tough love'' with my son I have pondered:

How much ''toughness'' is the right amount and for

how long should it be kept up?

And does withholding kindness really have anything

 to do with love?

Does ''tough love'' really work or is the term merely a

more palatable way of saying to oneself:

''I've had enough of this. Fix your own darn problems.''

As far as I can ascertain, tough love is often fraught with

many pitfalls and potentially escalating problems and to

be honest, I am not sure that it has much to do with love,

well, at least not with the way I understand love.

So, tossing the idea of tough love aside, are there alternatives?

Here is one; using a ''boundary-setting approach in which

one combines firmness with self-care and support''.

Setting boundaries as I view it, is not the same as being

strict(tough).

Being strict I associate with rules and regulations whereas 

setting boundaries I view as more of a negotiation on behaviours

that we are willing or unwilling to engage with.

Example: ''XYZ works for me what works for you?''

''I can see that we view this differently, can we find

a compromise?''

''I understand that you are upset and want to talk about it.

Unfortunately, I'm in the middle of something right now. 

Let's talk tomorrow when I have more time.''

Boundaries, in my view, when expressed clearly and without

any punitive undertones fosters an understanding not only

of our own limits, needs and wants, but also that of others.

However, boundaries do need consequences but in difference

to tough love, it does not involve withdrawing kindness

and/or treating someone harshly.

It does involve owning our feelings when a boundary

has been crossed and communicating that clearly to the

person who crossed it.

-I would prefer it if you didn't make fun of my......xyz

in front of others. It hurts.

-I'm sorry but I have to disagree with you. I feel that

your words are too harsh.

-I'd appreciate it if we could agree to disagree because

this conversation is upsetting me.

-I'm really tired. Can we please talk about this later?

-I get that you are upset, so am I, let's work on

this when we are both less emotional.

It has taken me years to fully understand how much

needless frustration, anger and sadness I have

experience/felt due to not having understood

just how important boundaries are.

I've come to realize that if we fail to set boundaries yet hold 

others responsible for how we feel in response

to our ''crossed'' boundaries, then are we not

 ourselves the authors of our emotional fallout?

Methinks maybe that may be the case.

''I'm not so sure about tough love,

but it sure can be tough sometimes

to love.''

(Citizen Z)

''I want to emphasize how important it is to maintain

a collaborative relationship even when you are

setting boundaries. 

Your response must always be expressed in the

form of strong, yet emphatic, limit-setting 

boundaries - that is, tough love.''

(Chris Voss)

''Some people have equated the term tough love to

disciplinary action or even outright abusive behaviours.

This is not at all the same thing.

No action that causes harm to another person - such

as abusive wording or physical aggression - is love

of any kind; it's unacceptable and should

not be excused.''

(betterhelp)

about the image: acrylic on large canvas, some editing

in Elements

What have the people done, Charlie?

Once I believed.........

That bullies were sad hurt people who would

bully others because they didn't know how

to deal with their own pain.

That even when people said things that they 

knew would hurt the people they said it to,

they didn't really mean it, they just didn't

know where to place their own repressed

hurt, anger, and frustrations.

That behind all masks and costumes, 

 we're all vulnerable and scared

human beings.

That the good would always conquer

the bad.

That love would always be stronger

than hate.

That honesty would always triumph

over dishonesty.

That treating others with kindness would

always be more appreciated than

 treating them with callousness.

That gentleness, tenderness and compassion

would always be viewed as strengths rather

than frailties.

That there were people that always felt that they had to

tell others how great they were, although deep down

inside, they always felt really small.

That there really were people who wanted to

be a voice and stand up for the downtrodden, 

the poor, .... the ''little'' people.

That there were people who possessed power who

really wanted to use it for justice, freedom and

liberty for all.

That there were people who wanted to use their

insights, wisdoms and knowledge for the benefit

of the many and not for money.

That there were people in powerful governing positions

who when given the choice between war or peace

would always chose peace.

Once I believed that mankind would never entertain 

 the idea of creating weapons so powerful that they

could extinguish planet earth and all life upon it

by the mere push of a button.

Now, I don't know what to believe.

And yet, .... in spite of my disbelief

lingers a persistent quiet voice whispering:

Hold on to hope.

''Hope is the thing inside us that insists, despite

all evidence to the contrary, that something better

awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it,

to work for it, and to fight for it.''

(Barak Obama)

about the image: acrylic and eyeliner pencils

on canvas

Title: ''What have the people done, Charlie?''

(This is the last painting in a series of 5)

Do you know your thinking patterns?

Thought patterns, just like behaviour patterns, can become so much a part

of us that some of us may find it very difficult to even be aware of them.

And just like some behaviour patterns can become obsessive,

relentless and problematic for us, so can some thinking patterns.

Examples:

-Why are you so negative?

-What do you mean? I'm just a realist.

-Why do you keep putting yourself down?

-What do you mean? I'm just honest about who I am.

-Why do you keep dragging up the past?

-What do you mean? I'm still dealing with some of it.

Nothing problematic with those answers is there?

As far as I can ascertain, no.

However, I do think there is a problem with the questions.

Some years ago I was asked those very questions by a friend

and when I gave the above answers I was frowned upon

and given a lecture on how off-putting my ''negativity'' was

for others.

I decided to look in to my thinking patterns and 

thinking patterns in general.

The more I read about them the more obvious it became to

me that to be a human is to have thinking patterns 

 of varying kinds.

Some of them are classified as cognitive distortions.

Such as: all-or-nothing thinking, mind reading,

personalization, picking out the negatives and ignoring 

the positives, using self-critical language, ruminating

on perceived failures/mistakes, etc. etc.

This made me ponder if at times perhaps most of us experience 

self-doubt, regrets, worry and other ''negative'' thoughts. 

Smart people say we do, but it's when our thinking patterns

start to affect our mental and physical well-being that they

can become a problem that may need some attention.

I read that it's thoughts that generate feelings regardless of if we

 experience those thoughts consciously, subconsciously 

or unconsciously.  

We then act in response to our feelings more so

than our thoughts.

Thought: I always fail > responding feeling: downcast

Thought: I should know better > responding feeling: dejected

Thought: No one likes me > responding feeling: loneliness

Thought: nobody cares about me > responding feeling: anger/sadness

The actions we take in response to those feelings frequently

intensifies our feelings rather than soothe them. This often

end up us seeking coping strategies that involves attempts

at desensitizing ourselves one way or another.

(Drugs/booze/gambling/gaming/scrolling/etc. etc.)

However, more often than not this tend to keep us stuck in a

 circle of negative and unhealthy thinking patterns rather

than overcoming them.

 Being told by my friend that I was too negative and

that others found my negativity bothersome, 

I decided that I needed to change my thinking patterns.

So I devised a method of questioning my thinking. 

   1. What am I thinking?

 2. What am I feeling?

 3. What are the facts?

I added some sayings to my quotations library

that I adopted and took to heart:

''All possibilities entertained.''

''Don't believe everything you think.''

''Not everything is negative,

 not everything is positive,

but perhaps somethings may be possible.''

''If we always do what we've always done,

we'll always get what we've always got.''

(Henry Ford)

If a 14-year old girl while fearing for her

life can write in her diary: ''How wonderful

it is that nobody need wait a single moment

before starting to improve the world.'' (Anne Frank),

one may ponder if not we also may not need to wait another

moment before starting to ''improve'' our ''worlds''

by improving our thinking patterns.

about the image:  ''Behind the shroud''

acrylic on large canvas

Romance........does it have to be with a person?

Once upon a time Paris used to be called ''The City of Love''.

(maybe it still is)

Not being a ''romantic'' person I can't say that I associate

Paris with romance, but I do associate it with great Art.

The first time I visited Paris I was very young and what

impressed me the most was how gooood it smelt.

It seemed as if no matter where one were one was always

accompanied by the most enticing scents of freshly baked bread,

newly sliced cheeses, jambon(ham) and salamis.

But I guess most of all.....freshly brewed coffee(café).

The second time I visited Paris I was 18 years old and

busy trying to ''find myself'' before the serious business of

becoming a professional musician was going to begin.

 Once again I was seduced by all the wonderful scents

wafting down the cobbled streets and alleys, but this time,

I was on a mission to absorb as much French Art* as I

could muster. (* especially from the Impressionistic and

Expressionistic periods)

This included trying to find some of the many Jazz clubs

that during the 1950's and -60's were the focal points

for many Jazz musicians from all over the globe.

I have a vague memory of seeing/hearing Barney Kessel

(American jazz guitarist) play there in some club but

unfortunately, I can't remember any details.

So, romance.

Although my boyfriend and I had broken up, when I told

him that I was going to spend two months zig-zagging across

Europe by train he insisted that he should come along.

Well, it was summer, he was still a good friend, so I said okay.

I had no intention of any kind of rekindling our relationship

but as time passed, I discovered that he did.

Ah, Paris, you city of love.

While my heart and mind was firmly focused on art, 

his was focused on the art of seduction.

I stood firm in Vienna, I resisted in Dubrovnik,

I was strong in London, but then........there was Paris.

I don't know what Paris is like these days, but then,

it was beautiful.

 It was warm, it was sunny, it was old, it was a

''living, breathing, enticing'' place full of interesting 

people, food, art and architecture.

Walking the streets of Paris was like stepping back

in time and feeling as if just around the next corner

one could bump into Monet, Degas or anyone else of

the Impressionist painters.

The City of Love got to me and then

one magical evening, I gave in to a bit of romance.

In the morning however, Venice kept calling me

so off we went and so did my feelings of romance.

When our train pulled in to the Central Station in Stockholm

a week or so later, my mind was firmly fixed on

the business of starting the next chapter of my life.

I felt that I had ''found myself'' and though I had 

enjoyed my ex boyfriend's company,

my new chapter did not include him.

My ''romance'' with music which began when

I was just a toddler was alive and well

and I, was eager to give it my all.

about the paintings: 

Top: acrylic on canvas

The man in the painting is actually in Paris.

 You just can't see the Eiffel Tower.

The postcard: the stamp is a graphite on paper

then edited in Elements.

After the WW II ended it took quite some time before

Paris was restored. But here's the thing;

through the whole war the Eiffel Tower stood tall.

Life may be a journey but we decide what kind of journey it is.....................

Life is a journey, some say. 

How we make sense of and experience that journey

is a prerogative that belongs to each of us..

What is not our prerogative is that regardless of how

 we are experiencing our lives, one day, whether we like it or not,

it will end.

The fact the none of us are getting out of this(life) alive

is something that it seems most of us don't really 

want to think about.

(Me included)

The reason I am writing about this controversial subject now

 is that I watched a program called ''Plastic surgery disasters''

a few days ago.

I mean, man, what the heck????

Image after image of people who have paid fortunes

in the hope of preserving their beauty, youthfulness,

their..? Geez, I don't really know. What?

Are they hoping that with the help of plastic surgery

they will somehow be able to by-pass aging,

beat off wrinkles, sagging flesh, age spots and nasty fat

that somehow manages to attach itself to all the places 

on the body where it is really hard to get rid of it?

Yes. Apparently.

Even if it means being sliced and diced, sucked and tucked,

suffering for hours/days/weeks in pain while in recovery.

Not only that, while they are having the procedures done, 

they are undergoing potentially life-threatening 

anesthesia's over and over and over again.

But here is the ''kicker'', ..... it's not always successful.

After watching ''Plastic surgery disasters'' I felt sad,

confused and bewildered.

Maybe it is possible to push back the outward signs

of aging for some time but what about the ''inside'' signs

of aging?

Even if it is possible to look as if one is 45 when one

is 65 years old the fact remains that the rest of the body 

is still aging with all that aging entails.

And this will take place even when we are eating right,

 exercising and living a healthy lifestyle because as far

as I can ascertain, none of us are

getting out of this alive.

As long as we draw breath, there is life and living to be done.

Every moment of life that we are gifted with is an

opportunity for us to love, learn, share, give, listen,

discover, explore, feel, and so much more, and it

is in my view not incumbent upon our ''looks''.

It is incumbent upon us to understand that the ''shell'' 

we live in is just one of the many aspects of who we are.

We are also the thoughts we think, the words we speak,

the hopes we have, the dreams we dream,

the actions we take and the decisions we make.

It can be easy at times to fall down the trap of ''if only'':

If only I was better looking

more people would love me.

If only I was fitter,

more people would love me.

If only I was slimmer,

more people would love me.

If only I was richer

more people would love me

and I'd have more friends.

If only I was famous

more people would love me.

If only I (insert here your own...)

more people would love me.

If life is a journey,

then my observation is that:

 For some of us, it just flows.

For some of us it comes with

a lot of twists and turns.

For some of us it's about

following determined patterns,

and For some of us it's

a mess from the start to the end.

 ''Every day we've got the

chance to make our journey

more beautiful than the day before.''

(Nitin Namdeo)

about the image: ink on cardboard, some editing in Elements

The purpose of life is ageless.......................

My father was a complicated man.

 Expressing emotions did not come easy to him,

neither did verbalizing the many thoughts that

he often pondered deeply.

His last few years were fraught with anxiety, pain,

and questioning if there had been a purpose to

his life.

In an attempt to try and soothe his anxieties, 

I wrote a poem for him.

(Having noticed that sometimes the written word

can be far more effective in reaching someone's

heart than the spoken word.)

Life in every breath

Reality of finality

A stark reminder

of humanity and 

its vulnerability.

Time once a friend

now less to spend.

The past, the then,

such a curious blend.

The mind an easy prey

when eerie thoughts linger

in the dark of the night

or during the day.

Can a whole life fit in the palm of a hand

or a life lived in full, in a grain of sand?

Do the stars come out at night

just to stir the imagination?

Do the birds sing just to

evoke joy and fascination?

Do we really need to know

why atoms stick together

to appreciate our lives

and love each other better?

Watching our children

 as they mature before our eyes,

do we see that in their very beings

we live forever through a love that binds?

Perhaps the fear of nothingness

can be expelled by the hope of something-ness?

Perhaps a little faith in love and tenderness

can mollify persisting thoughts of emptiness?

Maybe every moment of life we are given

are not ours to claim nor that we've earned them.

Moments are fragile, delicate like bubbles.

Fleeting, floating, yet ever so fabulous.

As long as we take one breath and then another,

there is living, loving and so much life to discover.

All we need to do is open our eyes and truly see

 that the purpose, the reason for life ...... is to BE.

''The purpose of life is to live it,

taste it, to experience it to the utmost,

to reach out eagerly for newer and

richer experiences.''

(Eleanor Roosevelt)

about the image: graphite on large cardboard

Having a hard time having fun these days?

-So what do you do just for fun? she asked.

Fun? Might seem like an easy question to answer

but when I was asked the question I discovered that I

I really had no definitive answer.

What do I do just for fun?

If one defines fun as something one does for pure enjoyment,

excitement and amusement, then it seems as if what

one experiences as fun changes as time ticks along.

At one time in my life ''fun'' meant climbing the highest tree

I could find, jumping puddles of water, making snow angels,

and playing with my siblings.

As time went on fun meant playing basketball, listening

to new music, hanging with friends and swooning over

some love interest.

Then my brother died and nothing seemed fun anymore.

Grief, I discovered, had the ability to make fun seem indulgent,

frivolous and laden with feelings of guilt.

How could it be okay for me to have fun when my

brother was dead?

I put fun on the shelf and instead went in search of

meaningful, soul fulfilling and all-absorbing.

The hole in my heart created when my brother died

was so overwhelming that I needed to do something

to try and hold it together somehow.

 I chose music, although I now realize that music

had already chosen me long before my brother died.

My concept of fun from before my brother's passing changed.

Fun now became anything to do with music.

I threw down the gauntlet and dedicated myself to

learning how to play as many instruments as I could,

how to compose, how to write sheet music, how to

analyze music, how to transcribe music, how to write

lyrics to songs, in short, how to saturate my soul with all

that music had to offer.

And so many years passed.

Eventually I got married and produced an offspring.

My concept of fun now had to go through another transformation.

Music was still fun, but so was being with my son.

For years I balanced being a dedicated musician and a

 devoted parent until my son left home and became an artist

as well.

His life (like many artists life) was turbulent with many ups and

 downs and for me, filled with many sleepless nights.

But once again, music helped me through it.

Was I still experiencing music as fun? Sometimes.

I began to search for something new that felt like fun.

I decided to try painting.

Much to my amazement I discovered that I seemed to have

a knack for it, but more importantly, it was fun.

I turned my living room into a studio of sorts and

with music blaring, day after day I painted canvas after canvas

of whatever my imagination could dream up.

I discovered that not only was it fun, when I painted

I entered a state of flux(the zone) in which time and place just

seemed to vanish. 

When I was painting I would often have my front door

open and as I live in a town house complex, anyone 

passing by my place would be able not only to hear 

the music I was listening to, but also see me painting.

Now and then people started to come to my front door and ask 

if they could come in and see what I was painting.

One such day there was a gentle voice asking 

through my screen door: -Hello? Hello?

I put down my brush and walked to the screen door.

-Yes?

I opened the door and standing in front of me was a 

sweet looking elderly woman.

-I can see that you're painting, she said and

then continued:-Can I have a look?

-Sure, come on in, I answered.

Standing on the easel was the (above)Mickey painting.

-My son would love this painting, is it for sale? she asked.

-Well, yes, I guess, although I'm not sure if I've finished it yet.

I mean, it's still wet.

-How much will it cost? I mean, it's quite large isn't it.

My son is a painter too, you see, but I know he would

really enjoy your painting.

I decided to give her the painting.

-You know what, you can have it, I said.

-Are you sure?

-Yep, I am.

-My son is coming for a visit tomorrow so can I pick it up

tomorrow morning?

-Sure, it will probably be dry by then.

The next morning she came by and picked up

the painting and handed me a lovely packet

of wholesome biscuits as thanks.

When I painted the Mickey painting I was having a lot of

fun but I think giving it away, was even more fun.

Two weeks later the elderly lady came by again

and told me that her son loved the painting.

What do I consider as fun these days when due to

osteoarthritis in most parts of my body I can no longer

paint large canvases or play the piano or any other instrument?

I decided that in order to have more fun I had to broaden my

definition of the term.

So now ''fun'' incorporates anything that I see, hear, touch, taste,

 and or experience that makes me smile on the ''inside''

 as well as on the ''outside''

of my being. 

If you too would like to experience more fun in your life,

perhaps broadening the way you define the term

may work for you as well?

 about the painting: ''Mickey'' acrylic on large canvas

The background was made by me splashing colours

randomly on the canvas until an idea would pop up.

While watching the paint drip I suddenly saw

 Mickey's face on it.

I had a lot of fun doing this particular painting.

Cash? Why? Cause you never know when a coin may save your life........

 

-Are you sure you shouldn't stay the night? my mother

asks anxiously.

-Lorna, leave the boy alone, he's a man now so he

makes his own decisions, my father injects.

-Don't fuss, I say and grab my car keys.

I thank them for the nice meal and tell them

that I'll call in a week.

In my mind I'm already in my car and on the

way home, but in reality I'm walking out

the door waving goodbye and getting in my car.

I place my phone in the cradle, turn on the ignition

and start the long drive home.

Not far down the road a sort of melancholy comes 

over me.  I can't really pinpoint exactly where it

comes from only that recently it seems to show up

every time I leave my folks.

Perhaps it has something to do with that I am becoming

more aware of that they are getting older, more forgetful

and somehow more fragile.

I know that my father wants me to take over the place,

spruce it up a bit and make it into a money-earning business

again but ...... just the sheer thought of doing so makes me want to

hop on the next flight to the other side of the planet.

A deep sigh from the depth of my subconscious escapes

and suddenly I'm overcome by tiredness.

To prevent myself from falling asleep at the wheel

I flick through my lists of music on my mobile

and turn up the volume.

While driving through dark and ominous looking

woods with music blaring and me thumping

the steering wheel along with the beat,

suddenly the mobile dies.

-Hmm, that's odd, I think, but just put it down

to bad reception.

Knowing that I still have another four hours of

driving to do, the phone not working gradually starts

to concern me.

I tap on the screen but it stays dark.

-I probably forgot to charge it, I tell myself

but the phone not working makes me feel

uncomfortable.

Suddenly a horrible thought pushes its way into my

anxious mind.

-What if the car decides to go dark too?

I mean, when was the time when I last charged the car?

I quickly check all the gages on the dashboard and

discover that I am down to my last bit of battery

power.

Ok, this is not good.

What's also not very good, is that I haven't seen any

 lights or even some kind of indication of human activity for

quite some time.

How deep is this forest??

I tap the screen on the phone hoping it will

come back alive by some miracle, but to no

avail.

And then, almost soundlessly, the engine in my car and

all the lights on the dashboard turn off.

Slowly I roll on to the shoulder of the road.

I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere with no way

of getting any assistance.

It's so quiet around me that I feel as if I'm the

only human in the world.

Now what?

I close my eyes, lean the seat back, and tell myself:

-Think! Come on, think!!!

My mind is spinning and a million thoughts

flood my consciousness but none of them

useful.

The reality is that I'm sitting in a little cocoon in the middle

of a dark forest with no way of contacting the rest of

the world.

All I can do is to hope that somebody else will show

up and offer me some help, or, wait for the morning

light and then start to walk.

The irony of it all.

Here I am, armed with the latest technology and yet....

I'm totally unable to contact anybody to come and

help me because my mobile doesn't work and there

are no public phones along this stretch of road.

Mind you, even if there was a public phone I could not

use it because I no longer use cash money. I only

use my phone to pay stuff with.

And, even if there was a gas station open at this time

of night, unless it was equipped with an electric car

battery charge station, I still could not pay for the

charge since my phone is dead.

Hmm.

Hope it is.

Might as well try to sleep.

I zip up my jacket, close my eyes and

get as comfortable as I can.

As I am dozing off my last thought is:

''Change your car to a hybrid, always carry a bit of

cash, always keep a fully charged spare phone in 

your glovebox.''

''I wish we would scrutinize our fascination with

technology just a little bit harder sometimes so that we 

don't end up creating problems which we already solved a

long time ago.''

(Citizen Z)

about the image: acrylic on canvas