Go fish… or go, fish?

The fish isn’t mine.

We just live in the same house together.

Every day, at some point or other – some days, it is more than once, and sometimes for hours at a time – we see one another.

I say hi to the fish just about every time it is the first time I’ve seen him in the last few hours or so, and I feel a sort of acknowledgement come my way, as his own greeting to me.

We are comfortable housemates, and we watch out for one another.

He keeps his space clean, and I help him stay alive, and make sure his light gets turned off at night – too many people seem to think it is a good idea to turn on his light in the evening, and then leave it on the entire night… (I mean, when and how is he supposed to sleep???)

::eyeroll

Anyway…, we are buddies of a sort.

Happy house-sharers.

Some nights, I walk into the main room without looking yet at the fish tank, but I can tell he knows I am there – I can feel his eyes on me.

And, sure enough, on such nights, when I turn around and give my attention to the fish tank, the fish is there, facing directly toward me, wherever I am, his nose almost pressing against the glass.

It did not take me long to discover why he did this, of course.

Every single time, it is because he has not been fed.

It’s nice not having to check the log to know if he’s been fed or not – he helps me out that way.

And I help him out by feeding him.

He also is a great listener – he accepts me the way I am, and offers minimal judgment, always allowing me to be open and honest, wall-free about things.

And I can always know that he accepts me as I am, whether he cares about what I have to say or not.

And that is really nice.

Do you think he’s so especially good at this all, because he is part of so much meditation (he’s located in the main meditation and yoga room)?

Maybe…, just maybe… a meditative fish makes for a good friend…

Like the sharks from “Finding Nemo” declares, fish are friends, not food.

And this one is a good friend. 🙂

Now, the question is: How do we build more relationships like this with people?

That’s a good question well worth answering, I do believe…

Post-a-day 2019

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Hipster Imposter

We went to a donation-based fundraiser yoga class the other day, which was focused on raising funds for a certain local pet shelter, while giving practice to some newer yoga teachers.

The class took place in a brewery.

I did not always understand what the teacher wanted me to do, and the people around me weren’t always too helpful with what they were doing, so I was behind at times, and I did some guesswork at times.

I generally feel that yoga teachers keep students in downward dog for far too long – like, I’m about to pass out by the time they start to mention maybe moving out of the position… and this is just about every time.

This brewery yoga class was no different, and even a bit worse at times on the downward dog front, so I regularly switched into child’s pose or baby pose, and then returned to downward dog whenever the teacher began whatever was next.

I also breathe so much more slowly than teachers seem to believe long, deep breathing takes… approximately three to five times slower.

I did a decent job of everything, especially considering how I didn’t know what was going on throughout half the explanation time, because I didn’t know the names of postures, and the teachers kind of took a while to clarify what I was supposed to be doing.

The class was enjoyable, nonetheless.

There were discounted draft beers afterward.

I, of course, drank my water, but we hung out for a bit so my friend could mingle with her friends, and I could be distantly social,… kind of like being social by association.

At one point, a yoga teacher came up and talked with us.

“I really like your practice,” she said directly to me.

…..

I graciously accepted the comment and, I imagine, compliment, and aimed not to laugh or be ungracious or ungrateful.

Since then, I haven’t really stopped wondering what on Earth she could have meant – I mean, did she like how I basically did my own thing every time we went into downward dog?

Because that’s kind of the only thing I did differently that could potentially be a positive….???

Haha

I have no idea, but the comment was positively hipster, and it alone made me want to burst out laughing.

Yes, I know that I am all sorts of hipster with all sorts of things in my life… I’m just not that level of hipster, you know?

But, who knows?

I did just complete my yoga certification exam today, so, I’m well on my way to achieving yet another level of hipster in the very new future… oh, and didn’t I buy a bright red scooter just the other day?

So, I guess I’m not exactly an imposter…

Like I said, I’m hipster, but I’m not beyond finding the hilarity of hipsterhood, and laughing heartily at it all. 😛

Post-a-day 2019

Oink, oink!

I did lots of things today, but I dare say that the best part of today was meeting Mr. Snorty, a rockstar pet to someone I know.

He welcomed me into his home quite happily and easily, and proceeded to snort at me jollily, while sniffing and rubbing against me constantly…

I’ve never met anyone like Mr. Snorty before, but he certainly reminds me of a cross between a cat, a dog, and a barrel. 😛

I know. 😂

Mr. Snorty:

Post-a-day 2019

Aaaaahhhh, those blasted housemates!

Well, they’ve done it alright… the raccoons have overstayed their welcome.

It is official now that my poor bathroom, the place I must go in my home and cannot avoid, has fleas(!!!).

The raccoons have been living in the wall there the past couple weeks or so, and they seem to have brought fleas with them… the vent in the ceiling seems to be the culprit for how they’re getting into the actual bathroom from the walls.

Naturally, I despise it – nearly a year ago, I had a dreadful encounter with fleas while housesitting in this very street… any attempt at a repeat is to be obliterated, thank you very much.

And so, I suffer ever so slightly more tonight, acutely aware of the surprisingly marge number of freckles I have on my lower legs, ankles, and feet – indeed, I had no idea how many freckles I actually have down there (on my legs, of course, I mean).

I have covered my ankles and shins/calves with some essential oils I read about quickly online just now, ones that seem to be flea repellant and flea life-enders, and I have placed two bowls in the bathroom with soapy water and lit tea light candles… we shall see what the morning brings, but I have already dropped two or three in the bowls since I set them down just a short bit ago…

And yes, I am aware that that is not quite how the bowls and candles work, but, when they attack my ankles just because I’ve entered the room, I’m not apt to let them hang around on me…, and so I pinch and drop them directly into the soapy water of their future.

Ugh… you darned raccoons – I allow you a place to stay while you raise your babies, and you bring in this rubbish… how unkind of a houseguest this is.

Now, here I am in my room, panicking at every hair twinge and bit of air that brushes any part of my legs, worried at what it might be… I struggled falling back asleep this morning after I got the (I think) flea bite (hopefully) in the bathroom… I now worry at my being able to fall asleep at all tonight, or at least to sleep well and awake rested in the morning.

It seems sadly unlikely… :/

Darn raccoons… and, of course, fleas(!).

Post-a-day 2019

Haven I mentioned that I live with a raccoon?

Well, I rather do… it’s only about 95% certain, but I’ve been living with a raccoon since December, which is now a good three months of semi-cohabitation, here on the third floor of the house.

You see, somehow, somewhere, a raccoon ended up in the walls up here, would show up off and on nights, and then eventually – the past several weeks – just moved in entirely into the space.

The critter has, in my head, anyway, geniusly semi-deconstructed the inner workings of the wall, and possibly also the attic, to accommodate its living quarters.

Due to the recent extreme increase of raccoon chatter I hear through the wall at night and really early in the morning, I have wondered more than once what the birthing season is for raccoons, because there very well could be some babes back there now.

I want to call them kits, but I recognize that a raccoon is not a fox… just not sure what baby raccoons are called, though… hmm…

Anyway, I haven’t heard the buddy at all yet tonight, which is surprising…. but, perhaps, it’s just going to be a late night tonight due to some fun party some other buddies had planned, so this one just isn’t home yet for the night.

Which is almost saddening to me, because the exterminator is coming Friday to set up one of those cages, so the raccoon can be caught and released onto some property outside of the city, which is supposedly rather decent land for these urban wild creatures.

So, it’s like I miss my recent housemate, thought it hasn’t happened yet, and yet I also can hardly wait not to have to worry about anyone eating through the walk in the middle of the night.

Whatever the case, I’m heading to sleep now, and I suspect I’ll get to greet the chatter of the raccoon(s) again in the morning. 😛

Post-a-day 2019

Bliss on the winds

Walking, walking, I hear the swish-chh, swish-chh of my steps through the ankle-high grass, plants, and flowers.  Taller grass lines my path, and flowers surround me in any direction, waving delicately in the wind, reminding me ever so slightly of bobble heads and those dashboard dancing creatures.  The wind makes a muffled howl over my ears as it whoos around and past me, giving me the perfect balance of cool air and hot sunlight.  My hair whispies whisp around my face like the pitter-patter of raindrops on my face during yesterday’s sprinkles.  Goats bleh at nothing in particular ahead of me, frolicking in the grass and climbing in the trees, occasionally falling out like it’s no big deal.  I see one of the new babies following suit, monkey see, monkey do… for goats…  I want to bottle this up (and take it everywhere with me, so I can pull it out whenever I am sad), runs through my head.  But I know that it would be odd, bottling something that, in itself, expresses freedom, openness, and ease.  You Can’t bottle this – that’s the point.  That’s why it is so special.  That’s why I am here right now.  Because God and the world knew it was perfect for me right now.  And it is perfection.

Grace, followed by gratitude and love.  That is my today.

Post-a-day 2018