Stop crying with your fists!.......on coping strategies

 The minute he opened the door the smell of stale cheap wine and 

cigarettes flooded all his senses.

Though the house was silent, echoes of loud and hostile

voices rose up within him threatening to bring him to

his knees.

-Deep breaths, deep breaths, he whispered to himself.

After a few minutes of doing some deep breathing he felt his

tense body starting to relax. He hung his jacket on the

hook in the hallway, slung his backpack over the shoulder

 and then entered the ''battlefield''.

-To others this may be the living room, but to me,

this is the battlefield, he thought to himself.

In the corner of the room, hanging over the edge of

 the couch with a pool of vomit on the floor in front of her,

laid his drunken mother.

His heart sunk. Like hundreds of times before.

And like hundreds of times before, his was the job to

clean her up and get her into bed.

Like a well trained nurse he lifted his mother off

the couch and carefully carried her to the bedroom 

and put her in her bed.

The room was in a mess. There were empty wine

 caskets, beer bottles and old greasy and moldy

pizza cartons strewn all over the floor.

He let out a heavy sigh.

Though he knew it was pointless he couldn't

stop himself from whispering ; why mom?

He pulled a blanket over his mother, opened a

window and then closed the door behind him.

Walking through the hallway to the kitchen,

he noticed that the walls had a lot of new holes

in them.

-Still crying with her fists I see, he

said to himself.

As he stepped into the kitchen he was taken aback

 by the stench of rotting food and dirty dishes

and the floor was covered in broken glass and

smashed plates.

Standing there, in the middle of his mother's chaos,

he had a sudden urge to just run.

Run as far away as he could and never come back.

But he didn't, because he still had memories of a

time when his home used to be neat and tidy

and his mother, ... happy.

-Oh, dad, why did you leave, why couldn't you

have helped her?

His mother had always had anger issues but when she

was sober, she seemed to be able to keep her anger under 

control. But, then, when his sister died, everything changed.

Gone was the caring, warm mother he knew. 

While he and his father sobbed, cried and grieved the loss 

of his sister,

his mother buried her feelings. 

She pushed them so 

deep inside of herself that she could no longer

reach them. 

Well, apparently all feelings except for anger and rage

which fueled by alcohol had seemingly

become her way of dealing with her profound

 sense of sadness and loss.

*

Facing difficulties(of varying kinds) most of

us (whether we are aware of it or not), learn to

handle/manage them with the help of our

coping mechanisms/strategies.

There are different ways of defining what a

coping strategy/coping mechanism is, but

my personal definition is this:

It's our ''go-to'' thinking and behavioral method/strategy

that we use when we are faced with internal/emotional

and or external/physical issues.

As far as I can ascertain, our coping strategies often

fall broadly into one of two categories; 

healthy and unhealthy.

Unhealthy as in: it prevents rather than helps us

to resolve issues, it puts our health in danger,

it makes us do things we would never do otherwise,

it hurts other people, and rather than improving our

lives, it makes them worse.

Healthy as in: it helps us to deal with and resolve

difficult issues, it is life-affirming and guides our 

behaviours to fit with our ethics and morals,

it helps us to care about and for others,

and sticking to them, improves our lives.

Some examples of the most common ''bad'' coping strategies

are: substance abuse, denial, avoidance, 

self-harm and negative self-talk(''you're no good, 

you're useless, nobody cares anyway'').

Some examples of common ''good'' coping strategies:

dealing with rather than avoiding difficult issues,

sharing our difficult issues/emotions with someone rather

than suppressing or ignoring them, staying true to

our guiding values and ethics and being open

to view our difficulties and issues from

many perspectives.

When faced with a difficult issue/problem,

perhaps first ask yourself: in the long run,

what I am planning to do about this,

will it make things better or worse?

''Problems are not the problem,

coping is the problem.''

(Virginia Satir)

About the image: graphite on paper

(For those of you who may be wondering where I've

been for the last few weeks....... I've been experiencing

really painful back issues and so not been able to 

write posts as per usual.)

What I really wanted to say.............

In desperation and a moment of feeling as if he

can't breathe....he flings the backdoor open

and start to run. 

Only when he finds himself in the middle of

an open field does he stop.

With his heart pounding and perspiration dripping

down his face he closes his eyes and tries to slow 

down his breathing.

Though it has been a long time since he last felt

the urge to just run away, 

yet here he is, in the middle of a field

with eyes closed and flashback after flashback 

darting through his consciousness.... 

No! I refuse to go back there. I will not let the

past dictate my now. I am here now. Come on,

focus on the now!!! Open your eyes!!

Slowly he opens his eyes, lifts his gaze from the

 ground to the sky.

Once, a long time ago, he would often find comfort

and even a little hope when he allowed his eyes and mind

to get lost in the vastness of the heavens above.

Why do we keep searching the skies for an answer?

And,......should we be given an answer, what kind of 

configuration would such consist of?

As his eyes tries to penetrate and reach beyond

the temporal spheres, a sudden noise behind him

urge him back to earth, back to the ''here and now''.

He turns around and finds himself facing a large 

black bird with piercing blue eyes.

What? Is this an answer? Surely not.

The bird just stands there. Bobbing its head.

Let's take a step closer to the bird and

see what it does.

The bird bobs his head and then takes a step

closer as well.

Geez. Not scared. Is it tame perhaps?

-Hey you, not scared, are you.

-Have you come to tell me something

or........?

As the last word leaves his lips, it dawns

on him that if any one of his friends happened 

to see him standing there in the middle of a

field talking to a big black bird, they would

most assuredly assume that he had lost his mind.

Have I lost my mind? I have heard that grief can 

do strange things to you.

Slowly he takes a few steps towards the bird.

The bird tips its head from side to side,

but doesn't move.

When he is almost within an arm's length of 

the bird, he stops.

The bird still doesn't move.

Having had a very strange dream the night before

in which his friend had ''appeared'' and told him

to ''not grieve as every time he thought of him,

he was there'', he couldn't help but wonder

if the bird may have had something to do with the dream.

Because the bird, somehow, was making him feel calm

and comforted.

Only when it suddenly began to rain did the bird

move. And then,

barely making a sound, it spread its wings

and flew away.

As he stepped inside the front door,

dripping wet and somewhat confused,

he turned on the last recording he had made

with his friend and finally, wept.

What I really wanted to say to you the last

time we talked, was how much I miss you.

*

I still miss you, friend.

Have you ever dreamt that you could fly? I bet so have many a penguin.

Have you ever dreamt that you could fly?

According to those in the know 20 - 40% of

us have done so at least once in our lives.

As I am one of those of us who have done so,

I have often wondered if dreaming one can fly

may have some sort of underlying meaning.

Looking in to it I found that it can be interpreted

in a number of different ways:

Positively, as in symbolically representing feelings

of freedom, transcendence and empowerment.

Negatively, as in symbolically representing a

 desire/need to flee from difficult obstacles, and or to escape 

feelings of anxiety and fear.

Pragmatically, we dream in order to keep us sleeping.

Dreaming gives the part of our brain that stores memory

a chance to inscribe our memories for future reference.

Although there's much written about dream interpretations,

 at this point in time however, it seems dream interpretations 

belong more in the ''theories'' basket rather

than the ''scientifically substantiated knowledge'' basket.

If Penguins possess consciousness, and some say they do,

are they aware of the irony that they have wings

but they can't be used for flying? 

Rather ...... their short, stocky wings are excellent

for...... swimming (??!!).

The fact that penguins can't fly but are good

at diving and swimming, is something that they have

in common with us humans.

Actually, they share a bunch of attributes with us.

They use patterned sounds to communicate with each other,

they use each other's bodies to regulate their body temperature,

they mate for life, they like playing and they walk upright.

And much like us when we live on top of each other,

when they live in large colonies where the distance between 

breeding pairs is very close, skirmishes often take

place.

This morning I woke up and for some unknown

reason I just felt the need to grab my sketch pad

and some ink and brushes, and paint a penguin.

(I have never even tried to draw one before, little

less paint one. Such is the muse. She comes

she goes. It is not for me to question her when

she shows up, alas, only to obey.)

In the midst of the chaos that is my life, I have

discovered that I find it harder and harder to

digest all the terrible and unnecessary suffering

us humans are inflicting on fawn and flora

on this our little blue planet.

As I can no longer play my angst and sorrow away

on the piano due to my rampant bursitis, I now try to 

find some solace by painting small-scale pieces and

posting my scribblings(thoughts) here on the blog.

Example:

 Fairy Wren (Ink/water colour on paper)

A penguins largest threat to its existence is 

not the fact that it can't fly, oh no,

the largest threat to its existence

is another wingless creature,

us.

We can do better, don't you agree?

Not only do I believe we can treat animals and

all that nature gives us, including each other,

better, but we can use our consciousness to

to guide our behaviour and actions mindfully aware

of that all life is precious.

We need to:

''Not hurt our brethren, our sisters, our animals,

as our first duty, nay, to stop there is not enough.

We have a higher mission - to be of service

wherever and whenever they require it.''

(St. Francis of Assisi re-interpreted by me)

about top painting: Ink on paper

Pain can be subdued with the help of a vivid imagination........................

Some say that when we visualize something, the brain

can at times find it hard to distinguish between a vivid 

imagination and that which we experience as reality.

Let me be blunt.

I'm in pain. Mentally and physically.

Have been for years.

Some days are worse than others. 

It was during one

of those really worst of days that I discovered

a way to

escape my pain by utilizing the power

of imagination.

This particular day the pain was so intense that

 I couldn't even get out

of bed to grab some pain-killers.

Even the tiniest of movement and my stomach

would lurch.

Although even the act of mere thinking hurt, 

somehow suddenly

I remembered someone telling me that it is

possible to make the brain/mind ''think/believe'' 

something to be real/actually happening with the help 

of a very vivid imagination.

Stuck there in my bed, unable to move and barely

capable of breathing, I closed my eyes and visualized

myself being an eagle, soaring high above snow

clad mountains. 

I became the eagle.

My eyes viewed the mountains, I heard the

winds, I smelt the ice-cold air, I felt my

wings slowly moving.

Gliding through the air all my attention was

focused on being there, there....in the mind of an

eagle.

I was no longer aware of my pain, I was only

 experiencing a sense of freedom and lightness that

I imagined soaring like an eagle entailed.

As to the amount of time that may have passed while 

I ''was soaring'' I have no idea, but

what I do know is that when I opened my eyes again,

I was able to get out of my bed, slowly walk to

the bathroom and finally

take some over-the counter pain-killers.

With blurry,  bloodshot eyes I looked at my watch.

5:30 am.

I went back to bed.

I went back to being an eagle.

(Since then I have ''soared'' many times.)

Imagination.

''Logic will get you from A to B.

Imagination will take you everywhere.''

(Albert Einstein)

Pain, including chronic pain, due to some

 form of illness, is in my view insidious.

 It tends to be stealthy, obnoxious, crafty

and so on, but worst of all, ....relentless.

If that's not bad enough, pain that is caused

by something not visible to the naked eye,

well, that's worse still. 

Why? Because it can so easily be

dismissed as ''imaginary''.

And as such, in my experience ''imaginary''

pain is often viewed as not

 ''deserving" of neither compassion nor sympathy.

Quandary: Imagination is ''good or bad'' according 

to the ''eyes of the beholder''.

Imagination, in my view is a tool.

It can be used in ways that enhances and

enriches our lives,

or it can be used in ways that diminish

and disparage our lives.

We are the ones using the tool so we must chose

how to use it.

''The man who has no imagination

has no wings.''

(Muhammad Ali)

 

about the image: Ink on paper

Title: ''I will soar like an Eagle''

Changed thinking, changed emotions.........

 

Why do we often find it so hard to change our

thinking?

According to those in the know, even if we are presented

with facts and evidence that upends our current thinking,

we tend to stick with our old way of thinking.

This they say, is because our beliefs are the key to

our understanding of who we are and the way

we understand the world we live in.

In other words, our belief-systems are so deeply

ingrained in us that to change any part of it

can feel like we are unravelling our identity.

''Your life does not get better by chance; it gets

better by change.'' (Jim Rohn)

"If you don't like something, change it.

If you can't change it, change your attitude.''

(Maya Angelou)

What does it take for us to change our thinking?

What does it take for us to differentiate facts from opinion, 

evidence from hearsay, what we know from what we

think we know?

What does it take for us to be willing to entertain

the notion that perhaps rather than thinking with a

''right and wrong mindset'', there may be many

other possible mindsets of thinking?

Emotions, whether we are aware of them or not, 

profoundly influence our thinking.

(Although much societal emphasis is given to rationality,

some recent research shows that only 5-10% of

the decisions we make are based on rationality.)

Emotions; how we feel about something, together 

with our cognitive biases (belief perseverance), 

those in the know say far outweigh logic and rationality

when it comes to how we think and perceive the world

we live in. 

Our thoughts create our feelings, and our feelings

drive our behaviour.

Someone once described it to me this way:

There's a situation. (S)

In response to that situation there's a thought. (T)

That thought evokes an emotional response. (E)

Example:

S > Where's my phone? It should be here where

I left it.

T > Somebody has stolen my phone!

E > Anger, disappointment, frustration.

or

S > Where's my phone? It should be here where

I left it.

T > Did I move my phone? I better check. 

I may have left it at my desk.

E > Optimism, positive mindset.

When I was a performing musician, there were times when

the gigs dried up and I had to find other work

in order to pay the bills for me and my son.

Most of the time that meant working in different

warehouses picking and packing orders.

As I found the work tedious I would entertain 

myself by trying to do the work faster and more

efficiently.

This did not go down well with the ''regulars''

which resulted in them ''bullying'' and making

life difficult for me.

S > I need money to pay the bills.

T > I have to be here but I don't want to.

E > Anger, frustration, sadness.

I would come home absolutely wrecked and

depressed, until.........

S > I need money to pay the bills.

T > I'm here for the time being. I can't change

the way they treat me, but I can change how

I view their behaviour. For me this is a stop-gap

situation, for them it's all they've got.

E > This too will pass, and so will they...I'm okay.

Really understanding the connection between thoughts and 

emotions has been a great help for me in order

to better deal with and understand myself and the

world I live in.

Along the way of trying to better myself I have

made myself some 'self-help' tools that I would like to share

 with you.

''You may not be able to change the world,

but you can change you.''

*

''With your words you create your world.''

*

''Changed thinking, changed emotional response.''

*

''All possibilities entertained.''

*

''If you can't change your situation,

change your attitude to the situation.''

(Citizen Z)

''It's not the strongest of the species that survive,

nor the most intelligent,

but the one most responsive to change.''

(Charles Darwin)

about the image: Water colour on paper, some editing in Elements

Swimming with jellyfish........not recommended

 

The minute the plane touched down in Brisbane I knelt

down and planted my sweaty palms on the steaming hot

asphalt.

Finally, after what seemed as forever, I had arrived.

Having spent time in Spain, Italy and other hot countries,

I thought that I knew how to deal with heat.

I was wrong. 

Welcoming me to Australia as I walked to the terminal

was the Australian summer and that, dear reader, 

means a humid kind of heat that would probably have 

most of us begging for mercy.

As soon as I arrived at my folk's place on Tamborine Mountain

I was told to never to leave my shoes outside, to

always check for ticks(horrible little bloodsucking critters),

watch out for redbacks and funnel web spiders as they

are deadly, and kill all ants but especially the red and green

ones.

What!?!!??

Oh, and also, if you go for a walk in the rainforest,

wear gumboots so the leeches(black horrible things

that start out small but they suck your blood until

they are three times! in size) wont get you.

Not only could heat squeeze the life out of you,

apparently the country was also riddled with insects, snakes,

and other critters all hell bent on doing the same.

On hearing all this,

I was seriously considering to never venture outdoors

while I was in Australia.

Alas, heat is a serious antagonist and after sweating

gallons and enduring many, many sleepless nights...

I decided to find a breezy spot somewhere safe.

Ha! Amateur! 

Returning from a walk in the rainforest(I had been

told that it was always much cooler there.)

I put away the umbrella(just in case ticks or other biting

or stinging insects pounced on me) and then sat down

to pull off my gum boots.

Looking at my feet after I having pulled off my boots,

I noticed that they were covered in blood and a

bunch of leeches.

Remembering someone telling me to put salt

on leeches to make them let go, I somehow made my

way to the kitchen, grabbed a saltshaker and started

pour salt on the bloodsuckers.

One by one they fell off and bravely I scooped

them up and flushed them down the toilet.

(From then on I always carried a saltshaker with me

when I went for a walk in the rainforest.)

As time passed and I learned to adapt to the many

''dangers'' that was part of living in Australia, I grew

to love it. 

I applied for and was given a permanent visa,

I worked in my folk's restaurant, learned how to drive,

bought a car and started to drive off the mountain and

down to the beach as often as I could.

I made some friends and moved in to a share-house

with a young couple

who lived in a house barely 100 meters from the beach.

Nick surfed and made surfboards and Rita made clothes.

Every morning they would head down to the ocean for

a surf and I would come along for a swim.

For me, the Pacific Ocean was beautiful, inviting and

''safe'' in difference to ''land'', which seemed just riddled

with an endless offering of stinging, biting and potentially

deadly ''critters''.

Safe? Did I say the ocean was safe? 

Wrong.

None of my surfing friends seemed bothered about

sharks, stone fishes, jellyfishes or stingrays, so I assumed that

I was quite safe body surfing the white-wash.

Wrong again. 

One morning, happily surfing the white-wash

I suddenly noticed a bunch of my friends standing on the

 beach waving, shouting and flailing their arms about.

I thought they were just fooling around until I clearly

heard the words: GET OUT!!!!!!!!!

Having just swum out past the break I stopped swimming,

started to tread water and had a look around me.

I was totally surrounded by Compass jellyfish.

(Very nasty, potentially dangerous.)

Somehow, I managed to get out of the water 

without being stung. (Don't know how, it's still a

mystery.)

I have since been stung many times by another nasty

 jellyfish called ''Blue bottle'', but here's the thing;

I still love Australia and call it ''home''.

Australia, some reckon, is a ''deadly'' country

not made for the faint hearted.

Whether on land, in the water, or in the air....

it seems danger awaits us.

Here's the thing though, it is also a country

with golden sands, crystal blue waters, open

spaces, night skies sparkling with millions of stars,

and a nature inhabited by flora and fauna found

nowhere else.

Australia also has

a living culture created by a people who have nurtured 

and looked after country for thousands of years

and for whom the term ''deadly'' means excellent.

Putting some rubbish in my rubbish bin one

morning I suddenly came face to face with

this spider.

And yes, this is the real size.

And no, they can bite but seldom do so.

It did however give me a bit of a fright when

it was two centimeters away from my eyeball!

About the images: top: water colour on paper

''Lovecraft's Jellyfish''

above: water colour on paper

Unconditional love.......is there such a thing

Some say that love is of paramount importance

for all human beings.

Some say that human beings are born with

with an instinctual capability to love and to be loved.

Some say that love is an inherent human trait,

biological in nature and with mechanisms that makes

it possible for us to be compassionate, caring, and

nurturing toward each other.

Some say that love like many other emotions/feelings,

 is able to bring joy and elation, but also pain and suffering.

Some say that most kinds of love comes with an element

of risk.

The risk of rejection, loss, grief, disappointment

 and unfulfilled expectations.

''Loving can cost a lot, but not loving always costs

more, and those who fear to love often find that

want of love is an emptiness that robs the joy

from life.''

(Merle Shain)

Some say that motherly love is the strongest

and purest type of love of all......

Some say that motherly love, whether reciprocated or not 

is foremost concerned with her offspring's

well-being, needs and safety.

However, some do ask........is this really true for all mothers

 or is this perhaps a cultural trope(figure of speech)?

The way we view motherly love, is it not perhaps

highly influenced by our own lived experiences and

the culture in which we grew up?

Actually, come to think of it, how we view love,

any kind thereof, as far as I can ascertain

is probably also highly influenced by our own lived experiences 

and the culture in which we grew up (and maybe still are).

Is pure (without expectations) love even a possibility

for human beings? 

Since I was a teenager I have pondered this. 

Finding a definitive answer has proved fruitless.

The closest I have come to an answer

 is what some call ''unconditional love''.

Some say that ''unconditional love'' is a ''pure love'' as

it is supposedly founded on ''loving someone or something'' 

without any thoughts of reciprocity.

Are we capable of doing this?

Can we maintain feelings of love if whoever or whatever

we love rejects and denies our very existence?

Perhaps parental love IS the closest kind of love

we can call ''pure/unconditional''?

Motherly love

Child, I love you, but your screaming for

hours on end is tearing me apart.

Child, I love you, but you putting everything

in your mouth has got me me frantic.

Child, I love you, but you refusing to sleep

 has got me feeling like the walking dead.

Child, I love you, but the time has come

for you to learn new things and play with others.

Child, I love you, and I know you're scared

but trust me on this, this passage too will pass.

Child, I love you, so if you need to leave,

then leave, but always know, you have a home.

Child, I love you, and I love your children too.

In truth, no matter what you do,

I will always, always, always, love You.

*

Perhaps a mother's or father's love for

their children is as close to unconditional

and pure as a human being can muster.

However, each stage a child goes through on their way to 

becoming self-reliant adults often brings with it a spectrum of

emotions ranging from joy to despair for

his/her/their responsible care-takers.

Like a kaleidoscope's image shifts with every

turn we make and thus creating new images, in my view,

so does our experience of love and loving change

with every experience we have with that which

we call love.

''Love is the soul's light,

the taste of morning,

no me, no we,

no claim of being.''

(Rumi)

about the images: Top: ''A mother's love'',  felt texters on cardboard

Bottom: "Kaleidoscope'' water colour on paper