#he's been thinking a lot about bubbles lately and experimenting with applying them to surfaces | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dear-wormwoods · 5 years ago

Note

Someone truly in the reddie tag saying Myra was not abusive and that she wasn’t like Sonia. Even saying Bev and Eddie don’t have similar arcs bc their abusive situations were entirely different and that people just reach to bend arguments in order to prove reddie. Biggest bs I have read in a while ahdhd

I’m assuming you are new to my blog, because uhh, I’m sorry to burst your bubble anon, but I am also someone who doesn’t consider Myra abusive. Idk what post you’re talking about specifically but I’d sure like to know what ‘proving reddie’ has to do with it, lol. But anyway, I have said before that I consider Eddie’s marriage to be toxic, but not abusive. These two people should not be married. And not just because Eddie is gay and doesn’t love her. Beyond that, they are definitely bad for each other. The entire marriage is a conduit for misery and deception. It’s a codependent circus of projection and enabling. It’s unhealthy as hell! But it isn’t abusive. And here’s why I think that:

Stephen King wasn’t trying to make a point that Sonia and Myra are exactly the same. He was, however, making a point that when people enter into adulthood and adult relationships while carrying a bunch of baggage from trauma they never properly dealt with, the cycle will continue in one way or another (this is why Eddie and Bev are ‘parallel’ characters, not the surface-level abuse interpretation). Eddie suffered from emotional abuse for most of his life; Sonia was very calculating and intentional about it and made sure that she always held sway in Eddie’s life to suit her own needs. The result is that Eddie is a very inexperienced and sheltered adult who believes in all of the lies his mother told him. He tried to move out three times and failed each time. Sonia controlled him until the day she died. It’s all Eddie knows. So in his mid-thirties, alone in the world for the first time, he doesn’t know how to take care of himself and, more importantly, believes he can’t learn. Because of his history of abuse and control, Eddie can’t fathom taking the reins in his own life and instead seeks out someone who will take care of him the way he’s become accustomed to.

So, Eddie meets Myra and latches onto her because she’s inexperienced and malleable, like him. She physically reminds him of his mother, so it’s easy for him to project onto her all of the abuse Sonia inflicted on him. And because that life was all he knew, it was also what made him feel comfortable, so he nudged Myra into the role he wanted her to fill - a replacement mom. He did this subconsciously at first, but he was able to recognize it before they got married… and then he decided to go through with it anyway.

Eddie brought a lot of baggage into that relationship, baggage that Myra was most likely completely unaware of. Obviously he’s a repressed gay man, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Eddie doesn’t love Myra, but it’s not just because he’s gay, it’s also because he has created a maternal figure in her and, since he (rightfully) resents his mother, he also resents Myra. She conforms to that caretaker role and enables everything he’s learned from a life with Sonia, and he in turn enables her bad habits too. Enabling is toxic behavior, but it isn’t inherently abusive.

But then, when he leaves to go back to Derry, it all comes to a head. She freaks out because as far as she knows, he’s very sick, and he’s leaving her without an explanation, this man who she is married to and financially dependent on. She has no idea how to communicate, so she resorts to panicky, emotionally manipulative attempts to get him to talk to her and stay. On the flipside, Eddie has no idea how to communicate with her either, so he withholds information, deflects, and snaps at her in moments of frustration. They both have irrational thoughts about hurting each other and they both do and say things that make the situation worse. They are both VERY bad at communication. Because they’re both grown adults with almost no relationship experience outside of each other and are therefore emotionally stunted.

That whole chapter reads, to me, like “bad breakups 101″ - one person can’t articulate how they feel so they’re deflecting and coming off as cold, and the other person is so over the top emotional that they end up making no sense and coming off as hysterical. And it’s no wonder! If you make it to your late 30′s without ever having much of a social circle or relationship experience, you’re not going to know how to act in a situation like this. And this applies to both of them. If what Eddie says about her is true, this is probably the first time Myra has ever been left by a partner, and it’s happening suddenly and with no explanation. So, she’s hysterical and resorts to manipulation - not out of habit, but out of desperation (Eddie makes the distinction that this isn’t typical behavior for her!!). For Eddie’s part, this is the first major decision he’s made in probably his whole life, and he doesn’t know how to explain himself, so he just… decides not to. And because he does not love Myra, he is completely emotionally detached from her. Their individual reactions to the situation just make it worse for them both - Eddie shutting down makes Myra more hysterical, and her hysterics cause him to shut down more.

People like to cite a couple of damning quotes about Myra as proof that she’s exactly like Sonia, but making that argument requires you to actively ignore the damning quotes about Eddie. There are also quite a few quotes that highlight the differences between her and Sonia, things Eddie himself acknowledges, as well as quotes about the guilt he feels for knowingly projecting his own baggage onto this woman. (Note: see the posts linked at the end of this for a breakdown of all those quotes) The text makes it clear that this was never a happy marriage. Neither of them are better for being in each other’s lives. They don’t help each other become healthier people. Rather, they both actively enable each other’s toxic habits. The marriage is, in a lot of ways, a form of self-harm for Eddie, and he knows it - upon Sonia’s death, he exited the cage his mother built for him and then built a new cage for himself and threw the key at Myra’s feet. For her part, I believe Myra began as an unwitting enabler but ultimately realized that she gained a “purpose” from the relationship (being a caretaker, being “needed”) and subsequently turned a blind eye to all the ways it wasn’t actually a healthy marriage.

This is such a long post already but I want to make it very clear that Eddie’s cycle of abuse continuing does not actually require Myra herself to be abusive - rather, it is Eddie’s projection onto her that exacerbates the toxic environment. It’s the ghost of Sonia that haunts him in that chapter and throughout the rest of the novel. Myra is not a villain in Eddie’s life - he hardly even thinks about her after he leaves. This is one of the main points that make Eddie and Bev’s parallel arcs different - Bev very clearly has a secondary villain in her life, Tom, and she gets the closure of him dying in the end. But Eddie doesn’t need closure about his marriage, because Myra is just an extension of what Sonia did to him.

The one time he does think of her unprompted is during his walking tour, and it’s such a great example of what his marriage actually means for him: when faced with the leper offering him a blowjob and other IT manifestations, he wishes he was home with Myra. He doesn’t think of her badly - he’s not afraid of her in any way. But she represents his comfort zone. IT is forcing him to confront things like his repressed sexuality, and he decidedly does not want to do that. That’s the only moment he “misses” Myra. But he doesn’t actually miss Myra. He misses the way her enabling allowed him to escape from having to face himself. And that’s really what it comes down to - Eddie’s marriage is toxic because it’s an escape, a way for him to avoid having to grow as a person and face the hard realities of who he is and what his mother has done to him. Myra isn’t evil, she’s not a calculating abuser like Sonia was, but she is toxic because her very presence prevents Eddie from reaching his full potential and being happy.

Sonia’s abuse permeates Eddie’s entire life, even well after her death. Her actions dictate how he sees himself, as well as how he acts in relationships. Sonia is the reason Eddie’s marriage is the way it is. Hell, Sonia is the reason Eddie’s marriage exists in the first place. It is Sonia’s ghost that continues to manipulate him throughout the book and it is Sonia’s voice he needs to overcome in the end. If Myra were truly abusive, she would matter more in the overarching narrative of Eddie’s trip to Derry. But she doesn’t matter and because of that, she’s never really given a personality or motivations. She’s truly a blank canvas for Eddie to project his issues onto, and then he simultaneously berates himself for projecting and resents her for existing within his projections. Through all of this, everything always comes back to Sonia. Due to the vast disparity between their respective levels of influence, placing Myra on equal footing with Sonia is, in my opinion, a form of downplaying how bad Sonia truly was.

Finally, and it’s wild that this even needs to be said, people need to recognize that saying ‘Myra isn’t abusive’ is NOT the same thing as saying she did nothing wrong. Myra was an enabler and that’s not okay, whether she meant to be or not. She also had moments of manipulation, terrible communication skills and poor emotional regulation. She was a toxic presence in Eddie’s life. Saying she isn’t abusive doesn’t mean I’m excusing her actions. But it’s also important to recognize that the chapter in which she appears has a lot more nuance to it than some people realize, and it’s necessary to hold Eddie accountable for his part in making that night so difficult. On that note, holding Eddie accountable and recognizing his harmful moments is not the same as calling him abusive either (fsr that’s become some kind of urban legend, but literally no one ever said he was! ever!!). There does not always have to be an abuser and a victim - sometimes bad relationships are just… bad.

Eddie is obviously a lot more sympathetic than Myra because we know about his past and get his POV. We know that he’s a good person. We also know that Sonia is the root of all of his issues. But the fact is, he has some shitty moments in that chapter, just as Myra does! His past experiences are not an excuse for that, they’re just an explanation. And, because I know there are people out there who equate accountability with victim blaming, being able to recognize where Eddie went wrong and why he entered into this marriage to begin with is NOT the same as saying he deserved any of his misery. There’s a huge, huge difference between accountability and blame. Holding people, even fictional characters, accountable is a good thing. In the end, Eddie is a very damaged person - an inherently good person, to be sure, but sometimes damaged people who are inherently good can, and often do, create, foster, and contribute to unhealthy relationships. It can’t all be unquestioningly pinned on Myra.

Anyway, if after all of that you’re still confused as to why some people choose not to use the abuse label, here’s some additional reading:

An amazing breakdown of the entire chapter, using quotes, by @tossertozier

A more recent & shorter breakdown using quotes by @richietozierhateblog

#asks #love how of all the things in my inbox this is the one i choose to respond to #the one that will give me the most stress #the dreaded myra discourse #long post #stephen king's it #it novel #it meta #my meta #eddie kaspbrak #myra kaspbrak #eddie spaghet tea #meta

333 notes · View notes

blueyesandleatherjacket · 5 years ago

Text

The girl in the pub

► The girl in the pub - Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler. ► Here’s my submission to the @dwsecretsanta for natural--blues. I hope you’ll enjoy it! ► AU Verse, All ages. ► 5,979 words.

"Perhaps it's a place about which everyone knows only one fact." - Bill Nighy in The Girl in the Cafe.

USERNAME BAD WOLF PASSWORD ***************** LOGIN WELCOME BACK ON BIGGER IN THE INSIDE, ROSE. IT’S ALWAYS A PLEASURE TO SEE YOU HERE. WHAT’S ON YOUR MIND TODAY?

Rose Tyler smiled at the blinking cursor on the empty white page of her website. So many things had happened to her in the last weeks and it was hard to decide of where to start this story for this new post. She had created this website years ago, during her studies as a web developer, and had forgotten it the minute she got her diplomas. She had come back to it months later when she had found out that she couldn’t get a proper job because of a particularity of hers. Interview after interview, they were refusing her for the simple reason that she was different. Discrimination in hiring. This had infuriated her so much that she had needed a place to vent and share this experience, a place where we would be able to communicate freely without any barrier. She had found out she wasn’t the only one to have gone through this injustice. Bigger on the inside wasn’t a name she had chosen randomly. Rose was a naturally kind and caring person and she had discovered that people were more than just a surface to scratch. If you looked deeper, you could have great surprises. This was a motto concerning all the people in the world but that also applied to her. Many persons had barely scratched her surface and chosen to leave her behind soon after. All because of her particularity. She didn’t have many friends. To be honest, she only had a couple of acquaintances she had met through her website. Acquaintances that shared her particularity. Creating Bigger on the inside had opened new doors on the world to her. It had given her the courage she needed to build her own business. It was easy to find work as a web developer when you were your own boss. All her customers were talking to her through private messages and she was working from her on ace. She had gone against all the prejudices people had about her. Rose Tyler was deaf. She had never known how it was to hear the smallest of sounds. She was born on a sunny day toward the end of April. Her mother had stayed around long enough to give her a name and a couple months of happiness. Then, her father died and Jacqueline Tyler had been unable to cope with the loss of her husband and their daughter’s disability. Rose was placed in the system and raised by different people, different foster families that never understood or try to understand why she was so different from the other kids. She found her shelter, her salvation, in books. She was pending her time in the local bookshop. She had read everything little thing she could read and taught herself everything she knew today including the sign language, the coding, the marketing. She had used that knowledge to build herself the better life that she had so far. And it was a success. She had founded the Bad Wolf Corporation and developed an association for the young and not so young persons who had been in her situation: left behind and discriminated. It was a small association where deaf persons could find a shelter and dedicated volunteers to teach them the basic things and help them to fit in the harsh society. More recently, she had bought an old bookshop, gave it a new name – The Blue Box in reference to the old police box gathering dust not far down the road. It had become her headquarters. There was the bookshop part and her computing space of work next to the storehouse. There wasn’t much activity yet but some people were coming in and buying books or settling down in the reading space for a moment. There was a sign on her counter informing her customers she couldn’t answer to spoken demands. Everyone was playing the game so far.

NEW POST GIVE A TITLE TO YOUR NEW POST “Don't mind me. I'm just toasting the happy couple. On the house!”

After a long day of work, it is not unusual for me to reward myself with a pint at the local pub. I place my order and sip my beer quietly. Drop money on the counter and leave for home. Sometimes I would bring the Times or a book and enjoying my time off before going back home. A little ritual of mine. That evening was no different from usual. I was at the pub reading the new issue of the Times when this guy showed up. Large ears, big nose, dark brown hair. The atmosphere was festive when I’ve come in. A couple was celebrating their new engagement. It all turned to craziness when he came in. I moved to a quieter corner of the pub and occasionally glanced at the party. My beer done, I folded my newspaper. I was getting ready to leave. At my very own pace. That’s when I’ve noticed that he had moved to come and sit across of me. He had been sat here for a while and I haven’t noticed him at all. His lips moved. I walked away. Not the first time some ‘cool’ guy tries to flirt with me and this one clearly was one of them. The Doctor was in a good mood that evening. He was in a mood for a drink, but not a drink alone in his place. A drink in a public place where he would be able to share his happiness and maybe find a one night woman to satisfy him. He never had much success with women before. The blame was on his unusual and rough appearance. No woman would fancy a man with ears that were too large, a distorted big nose, a large forehead? No one had ever wanted him before and then, he released a single, became number one in the United Kingdom and with the success came the women who started fancying the successful man he had become. He shouldn’t have fallen into the arms of this disgusting spiral all famous artists were slipping in but the temptation of giving in to these love letters and promises of forever had been too strong. Tonight, he was celebrating the release of his third album. The Turn of the Earth he had titled it in reference to the first single extracted from this album: “I can feel it / The turn of the Earth / the ground beneath our feet / Is spinning at 1,000 miles an hour / And the entire planet is hurtling / Around the Sun at 67,000 miles an hour. / And I can feel it. / We’re falling through space / you and me, clinging to the skin / Of this tiny little world / And if we let go / If you let go / I will drift endlessly / In this never-ending universe.” He was writing cheesy love songs he didn’t think a word of for he never met his soulmate. All bullshit. The women he was meeting, having affairs with, had no real interest in him. They all wanted the fame, the money. He was just a way to get it. That was why he was having one night affair after one night affair. He should have gone to the party his staff was having tonight for the new album but these people were no fun. You would have thought that in the world of music, and more specifically in the world of rock music, people would be funnier, a bunch of party-goers addicted to sex and drugs and alcohol. His team was nowhere near that and it was quite boring to party with them. So he had pretended to be needed elsewhere for personal reasons and had looked for a place where he would have fun, alcohol and sex. He was reasonable enough not to fall in the trap of drugs like many other artists but he could never say no to alcohol. Getting wasted made him forget about the loneliness an superficiality of such a life. Everyone was looking for fame but fame wasn’t bringing real happiness. Only a fake euphory. He found a pub with a good atmosphere. Someone was partying in there, celebrating a happiness that never was given to him in over thirty years of life. He pushed the door open, a large grin on his face and entered the pub. This joyful atmosphere was all he needed tonight. It became crazy once he was in. He walked to the counter and ordered a bottle of the best champagne. That’s at that very moment he noticed her. He was sitting there, sipping a pint of beer and reading the newspaper. She didn’t seem disturbed by the noise around her. Such an ability to ignore your surroundings was impressive. It wasn’t what caught his eye though. He had seen a lot of women falling to his feet but none of them were equalling her beauty. For a moment, he could nothing but admiring this reading beauty. Even tucking a strand of hair behind her ear made her the most beautiful woman he had even seen. “The news isn’t that good lately, heh?” She didn’t reply to him, didn’t even glance at him. With the noise around, she probably hadn’t heard him. The party-animals were singing loudly and screaming congratulations. Her calm was admirable. It was as if she was stuck in her own bubble and was disregarding her surroundings. The barman was gone in the wine cellar to find the bottle he had asked for. It was taking some time so he jumped over the counter, poured himself a pint and sat down beside the blonde girl and babbled happily. He didn’t remark immediately that she wasn’t giving attention to him and, to be honest, that was quite offending. No one was ignoring him. He was the Doctor. The international rock star. The best in cheesy love songs. Every teenager and grown woman were falling to his feet for a glance from him. Why was she ignoring him? “I’m the Doctor by the way, what’s your name?” No answer. She was deliberating ignoring him and that wasn’t nice of her. He never met anyone who could resist the famous Doctor. Who did she think she was to ignore him so conspicuously? He was gonna tell her his way of thinking when the barman came back with the bottle. The Doctor moved to the party, shook the champagne. “Don't mind me. I'm just toasting the happy couple. On the house!” The fiancée went crazy and her friends had to hold her back or she would have jumped on him. The cap popped and champagne rained over the guests. He took the time for pictures and partied with the happy couple until they were too drunk to see if he was there or not. He ordered another pint. The blonde girl wasn’t at the counter anymore. He had been afraid that she might have left but he found her sitting in a quiet corner. He sat across of her and took another chance. “You know, most of the girls of your age would sell their organs just to spend a minute with me. I am impressive.” The world was kinda revolving around him at the moment. All around the world, there were millions of fans waiting impatiently for his new album to drop so they could be the first to buy it. Could it be possible that she didn’t know him? That she didn’t care? No. The world did care. The world did love him. She could only be playing a game and it ended with her leaving and him being broken-hearted.

GIVE A TITLE TO YOUR NEW SECTION “Run for your life!”

The barman informed me, in my language, when I came back days later that this man had come back every day. He was ordering a beer and waiting for me to come through the door. Which I never did. I was working on a new project for a big company and didn’t have the time to go out and enjoy a night off at the pub. Busy man that he was, the day I finally passed through the door, he couldn’t be here. He had left a note for me. A sloppy, awkward, almost impossible to read handwriting. Something just to say that he would be back one day and would curry favours. Who was using such a language nowadays? I creased the paper, threw it in the first bin I found and forgot about this man. I wasn’t interested. He seemed to have a bit of an ego to him and it was everything I hated about men. He wanted something he couldn’t get and he was insisting. I didn’t know his name – he hadn’t signed the note – and I didn’t want to know it. Never heard of him either. No pun intended here. I had no desire to see him again and I avoided the pub, picked another just to be sure he wouldn’t find me. It was hard to wander in the pubs without meeting him. He was everywhere and I was doing my best for him to never notice me. This part was easy. He was always surrounded by hordes of hysterical people brandishing phones and Sharpies and busy grinning like an idiot while he was being hugged, touched, harassed until he was exhausted. Then, he would collapse on a stool and drink, meet with friends. By that time, I was already gone. The less I was being around him, the better it was. I didn’t want to be considered as a stalker. And I absolutely didn’t care about him. That was what I was telling myself. It was a lie of course. It had been true at first but fate had decided that our paths should meet again and again until he finally remarked my presence around him. I was a young man in her twenties, too clever for this world, too different for this society. I was just a face in the crowd moving around him. He was fascinating me, this man always surrounded by people who was bearing the weight of a loneliness no one could understand. Yet I never made a movement toward him and he never saw me. Until I found myself stuck in one of his hysterical crowds. With the release of a new album came the hard task of promoting it with interviews on radio and television shows. There, he would answer the same questions over and over again and the reporters would use all the possible approaches to have him opening up on his personal life. Which he never did. He never said a word about his private life, didn’t have any social media account and paparazzi never caught him. He was either excellent at avoiding them or they were respectful. The first option was most likely the good one. The question he was asked the most surely was: “who are you thinking about when you write these love songs?” Apparently, you had to have someone in mind when you were writing about love. It added a personal and authentical dimension. He always lied to that question, always pretended that it was one girl or another he had met in his life. The truth was, when he was singing The Turn of the Earth live in those shows, his mind was drifting toward that one girl he met in a pub one day. He hadn’t seen her again after that night and the barman had refused to tell him her name and if she was a regular customer of the place. Because he was a rock star didn’t mean he could have all he wanted when he wanted it. This time however, it wasn’t a celebrity whim like he could have had. He was pretty wise on that point. He had to find her by himself. Hard to do when you only had the image of her in you head, an image of this magnificent young woman sitting at the counter of a bar and reading the Times. This vision of her had shaken him to the core the night he walked into this pub and his heart was fluttering just at the thought of her. His team had already found him distraught these past few weeks and wondered where he was spending all of his nights when he didn’t have any obligation to be anywhere or to do anything. He never gave them an answer. This part of his life had nothing to do with his music and unless they were proving to be true friends. He was always on his guards with people. Especially since he was famous. With her, he had the feeling he wouldn’t have to protect himself against the gossips and betrayals. She was different. He could feel it. Plus, she was the only woman he knew that had been resisting him. She had totally ignored him last time. She was intriguing him. He wanted to know more about her and for that, he needed to find her. Which was the hardest part of the challenge his heart was imposing to him. His trail of thoughts was interrupted by the screams of the crowd waiting outside the building of the radio station he was interviewed in. The news that he was here had come rather quickly and the people without any obligation of work or family. Some were even sacrificing that just for him. They were sacrificing what he was seeking to get noticed and then, forgotten by him. He was famous. For them, it meant that he had all he wished for but his life was mostly travelling, answering questions, meeting fans. That last part and composing new music was what he preferred in this life. Touring was fantastic. All those cities, all those landscapes, all those different people. He had spent some amazing moments in the greatest cities of Europe, but they now all seemed dull because he had visited them alone. He grinned wildly at the crowd who screamed louder when he stepped out of the building. Immediately, phones and pens and goodies were insistently held out to him. A routine. Pictures, autographs. He satisfied as many fans as he could… Until his eyes caught a familiar blonde head whose confused and scared expression harmed him more any physical wound. She had been caught in the stampede and had no way out. He had come out and everyone had moved forward and made her a prisoner of their collective enthusiasm. He apologised to the fans around him evasively and moved through the crowd quickly. He didn’t hear them calling out for him. He was too focused on the lost young woman among them. No one seemed to see her distress except him. His hand finally grasped hers, she looked up at him, surprised to see him there, and he said the first thing that came to his mind: “Run!” He found me among all these persons. Usually I am unnoticed. An ordinary woman living in the Estates. I wasn’t even here for him. I was just passing by, coming back from a trip to the Royal Mail. A package to drop. I was walking back to the bookshop when this crowd suddenly surrounded me. They heckled me as if I was a simple rag doll. I couldn’t do anything. The sudden rush had petrified me. I am avoiding these kinds of situation. I hate being taken by surprise. But I refuse to believe that people could be so selfish, so mean not to remark my fear to be trampled on. I am an optimistic, compassionate person. I see the best in everyone and that day, the best of them was gone to the sewers. For them I was another fan trying to get my way to him when I only was a victim of their madness. There was no way out for me. They were pushing and pushing and pushing me toward the reason that had let them here: him. He came out of nowhere and grabbed my hand – the tips of his fingers were calloused but his palm was warm and soft. My eyes locked on the bluest eyes I have ever seen in this life. His lips moved and before I could figure out that he was saying, he was dragging me out of the crowd and running like crazy in the streets of London. He clearly had no idea where he was going but it was amusing him. He was running and grinning like an idiot, like a kid dragging a toy around. I detected the bookshop and pushed him inside. We hid behind one of the high shelves covered with books of all sizes and colours. Several minutes passed by before I realised how close I was standing to him. I quickly moved away and walked to the counter. The lights were off, the sign on the door indicated that the shop was momentarily closed. I didn’t say anything, just cleaned my counter, turned the lights on and turned the sign over. The shop was open again. When I dared looking up at him again, he hadn’t moved. Maybe was he waiting under the crowd was gone for good. I had seen some girls running past the bookshop. They most likely were looking for him. I gave him a nod to thank him and gestured to him that he could go. No one was waiting for him to come out of the shadows to jump on him. I didn’t see him leave the place but he did, only to come back around lunch time. The camera above the front door showed him coming in with what looked like his signature outfit – a jumper and a battered leather jacket, black pants and boots – and an acoustic guitar slung on his shoulder. I was in the back room fixing a website I created a while ago and found myself observing his image on the CCTV. The Doctor didn’t move for a moment. His heart had never beat so hard and so fast. This situation was unexpected. To be fair, he hadn’t had any idea of where he was taking her once they were out of the crowd. He was just running, happy to have found her again, happy to have her frail warm hand in his. Then, she took the lead and pushed him in this bookshop, pushed him behind a shelve stood there. He was stuck between her and the mountain of books behind him. His heart was hammering in his chest. He never felt so embarrassed to be this close to a woman but this one was fascinating. She moved away, moved around like she owned the place – which he found out later, she did – and he could only observe her and trying to get back his composure. Who was she? How could she make him feel so vulnerable? “Now we’re in trouble.” He chuckled but she was ignoring him again. She was reading the documents spread on the counter, tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She waved him away but he wasn’t gonna leave that easily now that he had found her again, now she had been thrown on his way again. There was a reason why she was coming back to him like this. “Escaping from a crowd of fans? Easy.” He snapped his fingers. No reaction from her. He frowned. “Right, then, I’ll be off. Unless…” Was she really ignoring him again after he saved her ass out there? Women were all the same. Ungrateful to him. Was it his physical appearance? He had always had issues with it on a personal level. Now, people loved him the way he was. Years of struggle and he was rewarded like this. Fame had the power to corrupt minds, to turn the freak in the most handsome rocker ever seen. And no one ever saw the real him hidden underneath, the man in constant pain. “Okay. See you around.” An idea sprouted in his mind and he retained the name and the hours of the bookshop and rushed to his own place. He came back to the shop. She was nowhere to be seen in this part of the shop but it didn’t matter. He started playing. “I have met a girl / In a pub one night / Sat there she ignored me / I am so impressive / She should have acknowledged me / But her stubborn ignorance / Pushed me to the edge / And my heart can’t help / But cry a name I didn’t know. / How could I catch her attention / If my name, if my presence / Isn’t enough to win her heart? / You think fame brings / All you want in your life / People and cars and buildings / But it won’t / One day you’ll met her / The girl of the pub / And she’ll make you / Feel like you’re the smallest / And meaningless person / Of this world. / See I’m the Doctor / An international rock star / The last of a family / A survivor traveling alone / Hoping to meet / The girl in the pub again.” This was a stupid song with no rhymes, something he had written and composed in a couple minutes to court her, to win her heart. Yet, it proved to be useless since she didn’t show up once he was done with his song. When she finally appeared, she didn’t notice him – how could she not see the tall man standing in the middle of her shop? She was carrying a pile of books, books that she painstakingly added on the shelves according to their genre. She came back to the counter, put one of them down and pushed it toward him without a word. It was a book about the lack of confidence and how to deal with it. How could she have guessed? Intrigued he paid for the book and left the place, with his tail between his legs.

GIVE A TITLE TO YOUR NEW SECTION “Do you want to go home?”

I don’t know if he had figured out my situation at that moment, but I pretty much had grasped his personality according to his reaction when I gave him a copy of Daring Greatly by Brené Brown. Behind his airs, behind the rock star, there is a broken human too used to get what he wants from a snap of his fingers. His interest in me was strange both to him and to me and if it had to go farther, this famous side of him wasn’t what I wanted to see. If he wanted anything from me, he would have to show himself as he really was instead of hiding behind his fame. The character he was playing was of no interest. So was his job, his songs, his money and everything related to the Doctor. It was quite a challenge, but he seemed to be a man who liked to be challenged. Things too easy were boring, and maybe was I a challenge for him too. Now he knew where I was working, probably had found my name too. Yet, he didn’t come to harass me every day. I was almost disappointed not to see him insisting by coming in every day, but he was a busy man. I thought he had tossed the book in the corner of the huge property I supposed he had bought when he became famous and moved on to something else. It was a prejudice I had about him though I remembered clearly the intelligence burning in his eyes along with the feeling of solitude and suffering. The Doctor was just a shell to protect the real man from the blows of society. It was almost a schizophrenic behaviour. Something we all do in society. He was the famous Doctor, the rock star always grinning, always happy, when he was out… But I wanted to see the man he was when he was coming home and taking the costume off. I did get to see this man. I was lucky enough, trustworthy enough for him to unveil his real personality to me. I have considered it as an extreme mark of his affection for me. Beside the trust, he had this undeniable attraction toward me. But I was unaware of it until we met again in my usual pub. He was in before me. There were two pints before him and he casually pushed one toward me, as if he had always known that I would come that night. He was reading a book he hadn’t bought in my bookshop. Probably something he had been given or had found on Amazon. It was placed in such a way that I couldn’t see what it was. It wasn’t a problem. I had brought my own book. The latest release of an author writing exceptional thrillers full of mystery, adventures and adrenaline. All the contrary of my quiet little life. He had had no idea that she was gonna come. It wasn’t the first night he was sitting here with two beers waiting for her to come through the door. The barman and the customers were used to see him around now and no one was going overexcited to see him here. Not anymore. He could be himself and enjoy the book he was reading and the beers he had ordered in peace. All it had taken for him to find this peace was to notice a young woman sat alone at the counter of a pub one night. The penny dropped. He had found what he was looking for but he couldn’t have it as easily as he had had all the other things. He had had to remember how ordinary people were living. He had had to find his way back on Earth after drifting in the higher circles of society and thinking he was better than anyone. He wasn’t. And all it took was a girl in a pub. He knew it was her before she sat on the stool beside him. He had seen her reflection in the mirror above the perfect line of alcohol bottles in the back of the barman. He was wearing earplugs. Nothing would totally plug the noises totally but it was working well enough. He pushed the pint toward her, his eyes still on the book he was reading, his brain registering the words it was seeing. He sipped his beer, read silently. Her eyes were on him at first. He could feel her interrogative gaze on him before she looked away, took a sip of the beer he had offered her and focused on her own book. She was so absorbed by her reading that she almost startled when he put a gentle hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She marked her page and looked at him for the first time since he grabbed her hand and told her to run. “I’m the Doctor, hello,” he signed. Past the surprise of him signing to her instead of using spoken words like he previously had, there was the frustration of him not giving her a real name and introducing himself with his alias. She rolled her eyes and her annoyance was clear in the question she asked in return. “Doctor who?” The smile he gave her did nothing to clear up her annoyance. It actually made it worse. He glanced at his book and back at her. Deep sigh. He raised his hands, about to sign something. Glanced at his book again. He was unsure of what he was doing. “My name is J-A-M-E-S N-O-B-L-E.” “Mine is Rose. Rose Tyler.” “Nice to meet you, Rose.” He was awful at signing apparently. The look on her face and the teeth sunk in her bottom lip was telling him that she was holding back a laugh. He could only sign the basic things and he wasn’t even sure to have spell his own and real name right. “Don’t laugh,” he tried, offended. Which resulted in her giving him the most beautiful he had ever seen. Her tongue was poking out and the malicious spark in her eyes swept him off his feet. He was screwed. It had taken him months to have to proper talk with this woman and here she was finally looking at him and smiling at him. They used a paper and a pen to communicate the rest of the night. He wasn’t good enough at signing to hold a full conversation. He was revealing things about him he never had before but telling all of these to her was easy. He would have said she had a compassionate ear if it wasn’t uncalled for. But he had never felt this well with anyone else before. He was sure of it; she was the one for him. “The pub is gonna close, up for a walk?” The fact that she was offering to prolong this evening meant the world for him and he gladly accepted the offer. He was getting a bit hungry too. They had been ‘talking’ and drinking for a while now. It was night outside. They wouldn’t find much to eat. “I want chips,” she added. “Me too.” “You can pay.” “Why me?” “What sort of date are you?” She was joking. His heart was racing. Did she mean those words? Was he really a date to her? He wished. From the bottom of his heart, he wished she would say yes if he was asking her the question. He felt like a teenager discovering the power of love for the first time and not daring to ask her out. “Chips are on me,” she wrote. “But the beers are on you.” The Doctor grinned wildly, dropped a couple notes on the counter and held a hand out to her. His book was in his jacket’s pocket, hers was in her purse with the pen and paper they had used all evening. She took his hand without a hesitation and they walked out of the pub hand in hand. They found a chippy and Rose insisted in paying the chips. They ended up on a bench, eating from the same container, enjoying the quiet winter night. He gave her his jacket because she was cold and when she grew tired, he allowed her to lean on him. It was nice to be himself for once. “Do you wanna go home?” He had taken me back home. He was a real gentleman, never tried to take advantage of me. He just held my hand and made sure his large and heavy jacket was well wrapped around me. He was reluctant to leave when we reached my building so we prolonged the talk for a little bit. Did he kiss me goodnight after that? Yes. A chaste kiss on the cheek from him. A soft kiss on his lips from me. The first of a series.

GIVE A TITLE TO YOUR NEW SECTION “Come here, I think you need a Doctor.”

Through his eyes, I discovered a world of novelty, I discovered countries I’ve only dreamt of. He had confided to me that all of the trips he had done before meant nothing before me. It wasn’t a bad life to be a rock star, but it was better with two. Better to share it with the person he loved. And that person happened to be me, the deaf girl in the pub.

×××

AO3 || teaspoon

#doctor who #dwsecretsanta #ninth doctor #rose tyler #doctor x rose #prompt fulfilment #the girl in the pub #challenge: deaf!rose

6 notes · View notes

reactingtosomething · 6 years ago

Text

If They Liked This, They May Also Like...

Holiday Shopping with Reacting to Something

stock photo shamelessly lifted from

We know we haven’t generated original content in a very long time, but we wanted to get into the holidays in a way that was more or less on brand. So in the spirit of a Netflix recommendation algorithm, here are some suggestions for what to buy friends and family who liked some of the movies we saw in 2018 (including a couple that premiered in late 2017).

It’s probably obvious, but just to be super clear, the format below is --

If they liked this: They may also like this

Miri’s Gift Guide

The Shape of Water: I shouldn’t say a day pass to an aquarium because it’s a terrible, easy joke BUT I AM WHO I AM.

If you’re not a garbage person, maybe consider the rest of Del Toro’s creature filmography, anything related to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or a collection of fairy tales by the Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Andersen. Dark and gritty originals, not the tidied up versions.

Call Me By Your Name: NO, I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING TO DO WITH PEACHES BECAUSE EVEN I HAVE LIMITS. APPARENTLY. The book is a lovely, lyrical, tragic read (or listen, if you go with the Armie Hammer audiobook as I did), and I would also recommend giving a gift of solitary artistic pleasure in whatever way speaks to your intended recipient—a CD, a ticket to an art exhibit, a coffee table book of a painter you think they will love. Something beautiful that requires a little bit of space to enjoy privately.

Black Panther: The new Shuri comic! (I am a hypocrite because I haven’t read it yet but it looks so awesome!) Also, there are some choice funko pops for Black Panther, which are a nice, reasonable price and make a great desk or bookshelf addition.

Annihilation: A DVD of Arrival and a book on fascinating genetic mutations. (The photo above is from the first linked book.) Also, tell them about the Twitter account Tessa as Goats, which is a true gift to us all.

Game Night: A murder mystery game! Or whatever game you think most appeals to them, but I personally think the immersive nature of a murder mystery is a true delight. Also, something Olivia the Dog themed because she’s awesome.

A Wrinkle in Time: For the actual child: one of the books published under the Rick Riordan Presents banner.

For the child in all of us: a soothing and/or empowering adult coloring book and some nice colored pencils.

Thoroughbreds: Really cool sunglasses.

Love, Simon: Tickets to the upcoming Clea DuVall helmed queer rom com starring Kristen Stewart and YES this is a request for myself, obviously.

Blockers: Make them a dance music playlist on Spotify!! (Or burn an actual CD for peak nostalgia/those who enjoy physical media.) And if you have some time together, have your own dance party with as many or as few people as you want.

photo illustration by

Ocean’s 8: LEVERAGE! BUY THEM A SEASON OF LEVERAGE!!! Give them the gift of even more cons and fun!

Incredibles 2: If they are parents: a night out without the children (this could mean a gift certificate or an offer to babysit). If not, try something heroic like these ornaments, or something that helps them learn to be their own hero, like a self defense or kickboxing class.

Tag: LASER TAG! It’s so fun, even if you’re bad at it! Give a gift card or book a session together and enjoy chasing each other around like giant, fun-loving idiots.

photo illustration from

Set It Up: A massage. Anyone who related to this movie too much is likely very much in need of stress relief. Also, a large quantity of popcorn to be eaten in whatever manner they wish with no shame at all.

Hotel Artemis: A Swiss army knife and a couple of airplane bottles of booze.

Sorry to Bother You: An Oaktown t-shirt (I have been told by someone from the area that this is A Thing but I don’t actually know and I’m sorry for that) and a copy of Kafka’s Metamorphosis.

Crazy Rich Asians: Ideally, a whirlwind food tour of Singapore. If that’s not feasible, a Hulu subscription so they can enjoy Constance Wu’s full comic potential in Fresh Off the Boat. And a really nice candle, because it’s a small decadence that can really go a long way.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before: The Wedding Date by Jasmine Guillory (if they like a steamy read), tall socks (if they like to be cozy and cute), and custom stationary (if they like to live dangerously).

A Simple Favor: A cocktail shaker, fancy bitters, a really good mystery novel.

Widows: Tickets to go see Widows again because it’s amazing and is probably even more amazing a second time.

Kris’s Recommended Reading

Wildlife or Widows: The H-Spot: The Feminist Pursuit of Happiness

As I say in my Amazon review, this is the best applied ethics text I was never assigned. In fairness to my professors, attorney-turned-journalist Jill Filipovic hadn’t written it yet when I was a philosophy student. Filipovic is also not a philosopher. But she is a brilliant writer and a rigorous thinker, and The H-Spot is fundamentally and explicitly an Aristotelian ethical project. That is to say, it takes the starting position that political organization should be aimed at the goal of human flourishing (as opposed to, say, economic growth). From there Filipovic builds a case, or maybe it's better to say several cases, for specific ways in which American policy fails women and disproportionately women of color in this aim, and concrete ways in which it could address this failure. She does so largely through first-hand accounts of several women across America, in a wide range of socioeconomic circumstances. Although the institutions and less formal systems in play are complicated, the questions at the heart of all this are simple: What do women want? What do women need?

Filipovic asks these questions without pre-judgment, and without assuming that any answers are too unrealistic to consider. Not that anyone she talks to asks for anything "unrealistic." Partly this is because they often speak from too much experience for the unrealistic to occur to them as something they deserve to ask for, but also, the idea that woman-friendly policy is unrealistic is a Bad Take to begin with. Filipovic doesn't need to be pie-in-the-sky utopian to show how things could be much better for women (and by extension, it should but still doesn't go without saying, for everyone).

I left academic philosophy over five years ago, but I really think each chapter (built around topics like friendship, sex, parenting, and food) is brimming with potential paper topics for grad and undergrad students of ethics and/or political philosophy. Whether you’re philosophically inclined or not, if you think “women should be happy” and “the point of civilization is to make happiness easier for everyone” are uncontroversial claims, The H-Spot is the book for you -- and for your friends who loved the several underestimated women of Widows, or Carey Mulligan’s captivating portrayal in Wildlife of a woman doing the best she could within the restrictions of her era.

Black Panther: A Nation Under Our Feet

Though it helps to have some familiarity with the Avengers storylines that led up to Ta-Nehisi motherfucking Coates’s first year on the Black Panther comic -- as well as with the excellent opening arc of Matt Fraction’s Invincible Iron Man -- here’s all that even a new comics reader really needs to know before jumping into Nation: King T’Challa, the Black Panther, was recently unable to prevent several consecutive disasters in Wakanda. Both as a cause and as a result of these disasters, T’Challa worked with the so-called “Illuminati” (Tony Stark, Reed Richards, Stephen Strange, and other intellectual and strategic heavyweights) to prevent the end of the multiverse itself. That crisis averted, T’Challa has returned to Wakanda to resume his royal duties.

Coates takes as a starting premise that Wakanda, the most advanced nation on earth, would only still have a hereditary monarchy if the monarch was uniquely suited as a protector of the people. In the wake of the Panther’s failures in this regard, Nation opens with a rebellion against T’Challa’s rule on two fronts: domestic terrorists with an unknown agenda on one hand, and on the other, former officers of the Dora Milaje (the all-female royal bodyguard corps beloved by fans of the movie) rallying Wakandan women who have suffered great injustices unaddressed by the crown. The leaders of the latter, lovers Ayo and Aneka, are nominally antagonists to T’Challa, but to the reader they’re parallel protagonists. You root for both T’Challa and the Dora Milaje, even though their agendas are in tension, not unlike the way one might have rooted for both Tyrion Lannister and Robb Stark in early Game of Thrones. (Shuri’s around too, though she’s quite unlike her movie counterpart.)

When he’s not fighting or investigating, T’Challa does a lot of soul-searching and debating about his responsibilities as king, the ways it conflicts with his career as a globetrotting superhero, and whether and how the government of Wakanda must evolve. Though Wakanda is too small to be considered a superpower, the domestic terror angle, an interrogation of historical injustice, and the struggle between moral idealism and political reality make Wakanda a proxy in some important ways for modern America. (You may have noticed that Ryan Coogler did this too.) Coates’s meditation on leadership and political power made A Nation Under Our Feet not only a great superhero comic but -- this is not an exaggeration or a joke -- my favorite political writing of 2016.

Nation is illustrated mostly by Brian Stelfreeze and Chris Sprouse, with colors by Laura Martin; some of Stelfreeze’s designs clearly influenced the movie.

Thoroughbreds: Sweetpea

When a clever, mean-spirited would-be journalist with airhead friends learns that her boyfriend is cheating on her, old traumas bubble to the surface and she becomes a serial killer who targets sex offenders. Darkly, often cruelly hilarious, Sweetpea is what you’d get if American Psycho was set in southwestern England and for some reason starred Amy from Gone Girl. Protagonist Rhiannon is a self-described inhabitant of an Island of Unfinished Sentences, de facto Chief Listener of her “friend” circle, and a maker of lists. Lists of the things her friends talk about (babies, boyfriends, IKEA), signs she’d like to put up at work (please close doors quietly, please do not wear Crocs to work), and oh, the people she wants to kill. Like her boyfriend, at the moment. Or ISIS, when news coverage of a terror attack pre-empts her beloved MasterChef.

Author C.J. Skuse smartly chooses not to have Rhiannon wallow in her traumatic past as many superheroes do. We get glimpses for context, but Rhiannon is committed to moving forward, to escaping her demons rather than being defined by them. It matters that she wants to get better, even if she also hates that she’s bought into society’s definition of “better.” (#relatable)

It’s worth noting that Sweetpea leans seemingly uncritically into a lot of dated gender tropes, in Rhiannon’s assessments of the women around her. (Body positive she is not.) Then again, she’s an unreliable narrator -- one of the best demonstrations of this is a scene in which she’s convinced of her ability to fool the world into believing she’s normal, then overhears her dipshit co-workers talk about how unsettling she is -- so arguably we’re supposed to laugh at how terrible she is without necessarily agreeing with her. This is, I think, a perfectly legitimate approach to a protagonist, even if some find it unfashionable.

The book is not quite as thematically rich as it first appears, at least on the topic of sexual violence; it indulges a “stranger danger” picture of rape that doesn’t feel entirely contemporary. (For a more nuanced treatment of rape culture, see the sadly short-lived but wildly entertaining vigilante dramedy Sweet/Vicious.) But as a portrait of a vibrant, layered, genuinely Nasty-and-you-kinda-love-her-for-it woman -- given Oscar-caliber-portrayal-worthy life by Skuse’s wickedly sharp voice -- Sweetpea is too fun to pass up.

Upgrade or Infinity War: The Wild Storm

Castlevania showrunner Warren Ellis helped redefine superhero comics with 1999’s The Authority, which at DC’s request he's given a Gritty Reboot (along with the WildCATS, whom some of us remember from this extremely 90s cartoon) in The Wild Storm. Ellis has always been interested in The Future, both its potential wondrousness and its probable horror. Fans of Upgrade’s refreshingly unsanitized (and unsanitary) take on human enhancement through body modification will find much to like in Ellis’s spin on the trope of second-skin powered armor. (He semi-famously wrote Extremis, one of the comic arcs that inspired Iron Man 3.)

art by Jon Davis Hunt, from The Wild Storm #1

Angela Spica, a reimagining of Ellis’s old Authority character The Engineer, is a cybernetics expert who stumbles onto a sort of shadow government conspiracy related to her employer, and goes on the run with the armor she’s designed for them. (When not deployed, the armor is stored inside her body.) Angela is quickly targeted by multiple covert organizations, one of which rescues (?) her and brings her in on a secret history of technological arms races and contact with extraterrestrials. The Wild Storm is full of big action and bigger ideas, and for smart, generally curious superhero movie fans who find the decades-long continuities of the DC and Marvel universes intimidating, it’s a great entry -- with a blessedly planned ending -- into sci-fi-comics.

Happy holidays, and have fun gift shopping!

6 notes · View notes

empressxmachina · 6 years ago

Link

by Imperial-Radiance (aka me)

"Damn, I can't believe I haven't been ambushed, yet. It's a good thing I planned ahead because, whew, that's rough."

The day had finally come for one of the biggest games of the year - not the Championship and not Nationals, but the rivalry gridiron game of the season. Of course, it was all in fun, but the heat and intensity of all the fans were always at their peaks during these games, especially since the two schools were relatively close to each other.

Madeline, or Madi as her friends and family referred to her as such, had already had the experience of what these games were like, but she and the rest of the people there representing her Kingston University Royals were even more happily hyped as they demolished their rivals in score, and she wasn't even on the sidelines to see it.

Madi and her twin sister Caroline had been the best of friends since birth, and the only time they had ever separated in their lives was their choice of schools. Once diverged, their number of similarities decreased from there, but despite being away from each other, they maintained to share a few commonalities like major choice, clubs, GPA, and more. However, the one main difference that had resulted in Madi running in a panic right to her sister in the middle of the game was Cari's sudden relapse.

Read more on DA, or...

She was so relieved that her coach was so understanding to let her go and care for her, but the time it took for Cari to return to some sort of stability using her specialized health kit was a lot more than she wanted.

"The things I do for my sister," Madi sighed, trying to hustle back to her team's temporary locker room to change back into her cheerleading uniform before getting back on the bus to return to her own school. "I'm glad that I got it to her in time. But, God, I am not living for this insanity!"

While the cheers of the Royals could've been heard from Cari's dorm room as they won and Madi tended to Cari's needs, the groans and yells from the Nash U. Knights' majority surrounding her on all sides and the reputation they had whenever they lost were things that she didn't want to experience firsthand, especially after barely making it out alive after their last clash on her own campus. As soon as Cari kicked her out to care for herself rather than call for help - the immense pride the sisters had was always their downfall - Madi found herself in the eye of an accumulating storm of brawling and spats.

Only by the grace of God, her sport-influenced speed, and her non-school-affiliated sweats worn over her uniform, she made it back to the stadium's public but reserved, empty, co-ed locker room unscathed, practically collapsing on a bench in exhaustion.

"Oh, thank God!" she panted, setting a hand on her side and the other over her heart, slipping her backpack off herself onto the floor. "I, uh, better get out of here before some nasty Nashers barge in on me or something. But, why did Coach have to make that cursed policy of having to be in full uniform during all parts of travel? Is she trying to kill me!?"

With a groan, she stood up, getting ready to disrobe her casual wear until she suddenly felt how dry her throat had become and how tired she was. She was about to go look for a water fountain until she remembered the unopened can of soda she had grabbed from the squad's cooler while they were taking a cheer break. Unfortunately, the jostling of the bag as she ran to and from her sister didn't come to mind, resulting in it exploding upon opening.

"Oh. Oh, God!" Madi exclaimed, stammering from the flow of carbonation shooting onto her face, the rest of her body, and the floor. "St-Stop! Jeez!" The amount of liquid in and on her person eventually built up to the point where she was coughing some of it out and her hand was too slippery to maintain a grip on the can, causing her to drop it. The spray of soda spread to lower levels of her clothes and doused her backpack before crashing and fizzling out on the floor where the can broke in two on impact. "Shoot, I need to get this mess up, or the school's going to get charged. Wait, my uniform!"

Trying to juggle two problems at once, Madi took off her sweatshirt and pants as quickly as possible and threw them onto the elongating puddle on the floor before running to a sink to dab the not-as-large stains on her uniform with water. As she focused on her clothing, she was unaware of the growing stickiness and hardening of the soda on her exposed skin and hair. Taking a shower occurred nearly every night, anyway, but having to go into the strenuous and lengthy routine that was treating, washing, and drying her uniform was something that she hoped wouldn't have to happen.

She had gotten to the point where visible stains on her clothes had faded to half of their previous intensity when the familiar sound of a notification chirping from her phone reached her ears. Knowing how late she was and figuring that her team was probably worried about her, she cut off the sink faucet and ran for it. When she returned to her stuff, she was happy that her clothes were doing what she had wanted - absorb as much of the spilled drink as they could. Much of the liquid mess had retreated into the fabric. Still, seeing how the list of fabrics also included her bag wasn't relieving, bringing another sigh out of her as she grabbed and shook her phone that was poking out of a shallow, brown pool like a rock in a mud puddle.

Remembering how the captain of the team tended to snap at some of the smallest issues, Madi hesitated at unlocking her phone to see her new message. But, she was a big girl, and if she wanted any chance at possibly being a leader next year or a front-row starter at Nationals, then she was going to have to answer, and so she did. However, the message she read had only little to do with her as it had been sent to the entire team.

"Huh? A recall?" she read, confused and worried. "'Due to adverse effects in direct correlation to being exposed to the following drinks, DO NOT CONSUME THEM.' Well, that's not ominous at all. Another health scare, oh boy!" Madi started simply going back to cleaning herself until she thought about the drink company and expiration dates in the text. "Wait, my drink doesn't apply to that, right? I didn't drink my soda since it fucking-erupted on me, but it said just 'being exposed' was an issue. Hmm."

She turned back to the mess on the floor, and after looking at the can fragments, she felt that something was off. Nevertheless, she went for the bottom half of the can to check its information. Its size seemed much larger than what she remembered when opening it – looking more like the 12-ounce size rather than the 7.5 fluid ounce type that she could've sworn she picked up – but the labeling was a greater concern because it fit right into the drink batches in question. However, as soon as Madi made her realization, she found herself on the floor, putting all her hard stain removal work in the trash as she fell face first into a soda stream and darkness.

When Madeline and Caroline were younger, they and their family would frequent to the lake that a family friend of theirs had property on. Each visit was lovely, except for the one where the twins were a bit too confident in their swimming skills and drifted too long and far into the lake. Madi couldn't forget the feeling of water filling every orifice more and more as her appendages gave out over time and the heavy coughing that tested her lungs as their father swooped them back up above the surface to receive air once again. She imagined that Cari had similar experiences, but they had never discussed it - the memories were too bad.

So, why was she thinking of them now?

Madi's vision faded in from black as light reached her eyes once again, but in conjunction with the light, a sensation of liquid also came to her, flowing into her slightly open mouth, a nostril, and an ear as a surprise, forcing herself to pop out of lethargy and raise up to breathe. As her sights cleared, she could feel wetness falling from her head, down her curves, and into what felt like a sticky lake around and beneath her. Gumminess and saturation in all her orifices were two feelings that she never wanted to have, and her outfit now being painted in a shade like the fluid surrounding her and stuck to her skin like latex, along with almost drowning, only made it worse.

"What the hell is this?" Madi screamed, throwing her hands up and down, rippling the aqua around her upon impact. By doing so, she became aware of how heavy all her muscles felt - each one needing more force than usual to move - as if she had been in a twenty-four practice... or trying to keep from drowning. "Where even am I!?"

To figure out her location, she looked around, only to find blurry white as far as her eyes could see, except for the dirty collection in which she sat. This was something she only saw in movies and creepypastas, and it got her terrified, not knowing where to go or what to do - sitting in a blank, unknown, quiet room alone, almost. It was almost quiet, except for the sloshing noises that her movements made and a faint bubbling that couldn't have been too far from her.

Madi searched for its source, running her hands through the dark goop and feeling around or anything out of the ordinary. When she detected nothing, she decided to trudge toward the sound, not bothering to stand up as he figured that she would just fall back down. So, she got on all fours and began to crawl.

With each movement, she could see her optics slowly improve, introducing more and more colors and shapes into view. However, her good news was countered by the difficulty of dragging through the murky goop, comparable to those barbed wire mud crawls she saw soldiers do in a documentary once. As much as she wanted to quit, she knew that locating the sounds were more important, and so she persevered. In not too long of a lumber, she found the origin of the bubbling - her submerged phone vibrating and blinking below the brown surface.

"What the-? This still works?" she questioned in utter shock.

Pulling her cellular device out into open air, through the strain it took to do so, Madi saw that the waterproof case she had on it stood up to its claims, along with the tens of messages from her coaches and squad family asking where she was and if she was okay. It devastated her to know how so many people were worried about her, but she was even broken by the fact that her hands were so gluey that she couldn't make precise movements on its screen to respond to them that she was at least alive. Each touch appeared to open every app she wasn't trying to interact with, thus frustrating her to no end. She only had a brief calm when the camera application open, and only a brief calm it was.

The back camera was on, and through it, she saw that her eyesight had returned to normalcy, seeing her pile of sweats and bag in the distance as she had left them. She sighed in bittersweet relief, understanding that she was still in a Nash University locker room like before. However, she noticed how they appeared to be farther away from both herself and each other than what she last remembered as well as the lockers, floor tiles, and bench being much wider and/or taller, almost comedically large. Intrigued, Madi turned off the camera and chose to look at the bench at her side for herself, just to then find herself awestruck and lock-jawed at not only a wooden bench that seemed to tower over and overshadow her like a building but also a not-as-high yet still twice her sitting height, sliced, metal, hollow cylinder in front of her with jagged edges that could make her bleed infinitely and the same brown slop streaming from it into the pool around her.

It didn't take long for her to realize the truth, looking back and forth to other spectacles of the room - the other half of the cylinder behind her also pouring liquid, the skyscraping and never-ending lines of lockers, the heavenly white lights way up high, and the walls that seemed impossible to reach no matter how far or quickly she ran - but she just didn't want to believe it.

"This is some sci-fi shit," Madi mumbled to herself. "There's no way I've... freaking shrunk. How in the-?" She paused her questioning when she remembered the one cryptic message she had received earlier that evening and looked at its reference - the colossal can, taunting her with its girth. "Youdid this!" she yelled at the metal container with a shaken voice, frightened at how in this wide, empty room, her voice neither carried nor echoed at her dimensions. "No wonder there's a fucking recall! This is literal chemical warfare! What the hell!?"

With the recall in mind, she could only hope that no one else had been affected by it, especially with a whole school full of enraged Knights stomping around. After all, how else would they have known about it, in the first place? But, Madi tried to keep a relatively cool head, hoping by the grace of God that she was the only one, even though there was much greater chance that anyone else would've had someone nearby to care for them in her scenario. Would she ever be that lucky?

"What do I do?" she wondered, analyzing the situation. "I can't move. My everything hurts. I barely know my way out of here, if I can even get there without passing out, getting lost, or worse."

Her sentence nearly faltered as she started visualizing the most terrible scenarios, all of which a Nash Knight of any age finding her, a cup-sized K.U. cheerleader, or them coming across her unknowingly, perhaps even literally. Each idea brought its own chills down her spine.

“I'm totally screwed!" she continued. "The only things I can do are speak and hear, I guess, but who knows how well those would do against a 'normal-sized' person."

Though, after saying her somewhat positive qualities aloud, she gained a bit of hope and curiosity, looking down at the phone in her hand.

"Yet, this thing is small as hell, and it still works," she regarded, rubbing a syrupy finger across the screen and seeing how it was more responsive than before, perhaps calibrating to her new touch and feel. "There is no logical reason, I think, that this thing should still have a signal or a working battery, and yet it does! It can't hurt to call for help, but if I can even get through, who do I call?"

Looking at her contacts, scrolling down the page to the best of her ability, Madi juggled who would be the best choice. Her ICE numbers were her parents and Cari, but with Cari needing to heal on her own and their parents being far away, none of them would be able to get to her before it got dangerous. Her next choices were anyone on her squad and the coaches. They had already shown their unease toward her absence, so it would make sense for them to want to help her in her time of need. However, as she only listed full names of people in the list without prefixes, titles, or grouping, she would have to go at least halfway through before reaching one of them.

"Jeez, did every single cheerleader this year have to have a name that starts after M!?" she moaned, failing time and time again to use the letter quick scroll on the side of the screen, eventually resorting to flicking her thumbs and indexes to go down the hundreds of numbers, email addresses, and names.

As the list grew longer, her fingers became pained, and her head starting to go dizzy, not able to take in so much changing information and action at once as well as her viscid finger pads only allowing bits of movement at a time. So, she had to stop at some point to work out the kinks in her hands. However, when she did, she wasn't aware of where her fingers landed and how they had started a dial tone. It was only when a familiar voice broke the silence did she comprehend that her prospects had come true, even if the way of doing so was unexpected.

"H-Hello?" a disembodied male voice called out through what sounded like a party. Madi gasped, knowing only a few people that could be that orotund in a crowd but only one with a voice like that. She looked down at her cell and thanked God at the name on its screen. "Madi, are you there?"

"Yes? Yes, I'm here!" Madi tried to answer back through tears, nearly dropping the phone in anticipation and excitement. "P-Please tell me you can hear me. Please."

"Uh, yeah. You're coming in fine on my end, even through the craziness on this bus." Madi had to hold back crying out loud from happiness, even though she wanted to express it.

"Oh, thank God! I honestly can't believe I reached you. Are you nearby?"

She figured that with nearly a hundred players on the team, including him, and them constantly giving their hardest and being switched in and out during the game for as much as she could remember and hear from Cari's room, that it would take a lot of time for them and the squad to reenergize, grab food, and re-board the buses to go back to the Kingdom aka K.U.'s main campus.

However, her interlocutor then lowered her sentiments when he continued, "Uh, I'd say 'close' is pretty dependent on where you are. I mean, the team and I are still in the parking lot, but we're going to be heading off soon. Why do you ask? We're all going to end up back at K.U., right? Did something happen to y'all or the bus?"

Madi realized that the squad's coach bus must've already left. It was the tradition for the cheerleaders to return first to join the JV and smaller squads that were already on campus to support the team, win or lose, but she didn't think they'd just leave without her.

"Uh, I don't think so?" That was all she could say about them, considering that she wasn't there to know for sure. "I hope not, or do I? I don't know."

"What's with the lack of clarity? That's not like you." Madi couldn't help but agree. However, it was all that she could be. Nothing was going right or making sense. "What's wrong?"

There was so much that Madi could say, and she knew that explaining her body issue would've probably been the most logical thing to describe, but there was no way that he would believe her. So, she went on a just-as-true but somewhat indirect route.

"I-I'm not on the bus?" she admitted lowly.

"What!?" her friend yelled, most likely being the cause of the quieting background noise. In a more hushed tone, he resumed, "Why? Where are you, then?"

"I'm in the NU locker room, and I can't move."

"You can't? They're not keeping you hostage over one loss out of, like, eight games so far, are they?" he asked in a whisper-shout. "No one hurt you, right?"

"No," Madi replied bluntly. "No one's here, but there's nothing to stop them from doing so if someone does show up. I came in here a while ago, but I passed out, and I'm just coming to." Explaining the horrific doings and possibilities raised Madi's already-high stress levels even higher, and she had to pause to compose herself. "No one touched me, but it sure feels like someone did."

After saying that, the other side of the call went coldly silent. Madi prayed that the call didn't drop, and she was too scared to look on the phone and check for herself.

"Jake? You're still there, right?” she tried worriedly.

A few seconds passed before the man, Jake, answered back,

“Yeah, I'm here. I'm just moving stuff out of my way. I didn't think I'd have to go back to the front of the bus until we got back, but here I am doing just that. I’ve got to let the coaches know about you, girly - mine and yours. We may need some backup going back on that cursed ground."

"Wait, what?" Madi cried, not expecting Jake to tell someone. "No, no! Don't tell anyone about this! That's just asking for trouble!"

"How is a search party for you more dangerous than me going in alone? Sure, a coach makes the plays, but the players do them, and I don't think the one player that scored the turning point of the game that led to their ultimate demise should go in alone on rival turf."

On one hand, Madi felt that his thought was selfish, but she also understood what he was saying on the other. She hadn’t thought about what would happen after Jake or someone else found her as she was, but having more people dealing with her, especially those she didn't know or trust, was just something that she didn't want.

"Plus, you know there are, like, five locker rooms in the proximity of the stadium, right?" Jake continued. "You never said which one you were in, so more people looking would make finding you a lot easier."

"Don't sass me with your valid logic! Jake, I'm having a crisis right now!" Madi shut him down before breaking down herself. "Jackson, please. With everyone I know, and everyone that must deal with me, why would I call you of all people first if I didn't need you and only you?" Of course, she knew him being her callee was a lucky coincidence, but she would never admit that. Her argument was too good.

It proved to be true as Madi was met with another silence before sighing broke through the phone,

“Madi, you better be in some deep shit, because I'm not going to risk myself getting suspended for basic pettiness."

"I swear that this is as real as it gets, as much as I don't want to believe it, myself," she promised tautly. "I can't do this on my own. I'm scared."

"Don't be. I'm coming for you," Jake assured with a smoky tinge. "Just sit tight unless you have no other choice, and I'll find you."

"Please do."

And then, the call ended, leaving Madi alone to collect her thoughts and wait on the sidelines of a soda can for whatever or whoever was going to come with nowhere to turn and nowhere to run.

#g/t #my writing #sideline #sw #shrunken woman #aka the smut fic #contains smut and small girls and sports and stuff

3 notes · View notes

moderndaydemeter · 3 years ago

Text

Carp Fishing – 2020 Park Lake, Mayhem!

This time last year, as I write this in January, I remember being critical of the constant doom and gloom coming from various media outlets about a possible ‘pandemic’ that was about to hit our shores.

Strangely for me, I had my fishing head on and actually had 3 bites during the course of that month, on a notoriously difficult lake, so you can understand the reason for my winter keenness!

Mother nature dealt a cruel blow with the river bursting its banks and going straight into the lake, colouring it up in the process and pretty much putting an end to some action that was to be had.

It wasn’t until well into March that I was to receive my next bite in the form of Mr Angry and then not long after that, we were all about to experience something that we never thought would happen in our lifetime, with the lockdown.

After the sterling efforts from the Angling Trust, I decided to not bother with the park lake and instead spend some quality fishing time at my other syndicate with my son. We spent most of that time carrying out some much-needed maintenance with a few burn ups that every kid enjoys! Throw in a couple of carp for good measure, he seemed almost as happy as he would be on his Xbox!!

Eventually, though, my thoughts were that I needed to be back at the park lake. This was to be my 3rd season on White Swan and I was determined to fish it my way, as I wasn’t really happy with how the past seasons have gone. Don’t get me wrong, I have always had my feet firmly on the ground as despite there being in excess of 200 carp swimming around the 26 acre lake, you’ll be hard pushed to actually see more than 70 of them grace the bank. I’ve fished a lot of circuit waters over the years and this is without doubt the hardest of them all. Over the past two years I was of the opinion that if the fish were showing over me and I wasn’t getting a bite, then I was getting ‘done’. I also knew that if I wasn’t creating chances after applying my watercraft, then they weren’t feeding on what I was giving them. Simple, I know, but not necessarily easy to work out when you are there doing it, it was more about reflecting on those experiences.

We’ve all done it, where we listen to others and we find out what the going method is and we try to deploy it, but the truth is, others might be better applying that method than we are, so that was my reason I wanted to apply some changes.

My rigs were the first thing I changed, together with my lead arrangement with the latter being inline and the former moving away from pop-ups to bottom bait rigs. I also went against the norm and used long hook-links as the shorter versions had been used extensively. Finally, I moved away from the ‘bits and pieces’ approach and just fished bait, but applied using a catapult or a throwing stick at night as the gulls would just get the better of you if attempted in the day.

With the new restrictions in place, we were back after the lake closed for its annual spawning break and, as you can imagine, we were all desperate to get fishing again, although it still didn’t feel right, but we were lucky to not be stuck indoors for any longer.

My first piece of action was a few weeks into June. It was one of those glorious June days, where the sky was a solid blue and the lake was slowly moving in a multitude of directions from the gentle breeze. The carp were also evidently showing and feeding in the first bay out of the car park. With no one around, I was pinching myself as to why that was the case?! Simon, the head bailiff said I’d be mad not to go into a swim called ‘Jays’! The swim had only just been vacated so I didn’t fancy dropping into it, so, with prior knowledge of a swim called the boards a few up, I moved into there.

Applying the aforementioned plan, two rods were put out against a solid weed bed, one on a very hard, well established clay spot and the other, a slightly softer silt area.

The fish remained in the area and, unlike usual with White Swan, no one moved next to me or opposite! The following day arrived with the customary overcast summer conditions. The odd bubble was popping to the surface, keeping my mind wandering together with the odd head and shoulder from a number of different carp, simply lovely!

Late that morning, the silt rod’s tip pulled down and the music to every carp anglers dream was to pierce the airwaves as the ATTS alarm screamed. My mate Ian literally walked into the swim as I was connected to a dark common rolling on the surface of the crystal clear water. At 27lb, I was delighted to get one with my new, but non-revolutionary ideas put into practice.

I had a couple more trips that month but the fish were on the move again, as is so often the case with there, so it was more a case of learning and watching rather than catching.

My drought continued well into August, although I wasn’t fishing as hard with other important things with the family to attend, so it wasn’t anything to start questioning with what I was doing, angling wise.

I found myself moving swims a lot. I suppose I was kind of chasing them, but at the same time introducing my bait with the help of a couple of mates that were also on the same stuff.

I really wanted to get the bait accepted by the fish, as do so many other anglers on there and that generally involves a bit of pain in trying to establish areas and it usually doesn’t pay its dividends until September.

I was mucking about in a swim called the beach, after seeing a couple of fish show over the subsequent trips. This swim is notoriously difficult to get a bite out of and in the past it has required a lot of preparation work in order to achieve that.

There was a large weed bed positioned in front of it, very encouraging, roughly about 30-40 yards out that made this swim far more favourable than its usually productive neighbouring swim, called the woods. The only explanation I could think of as to why the woods swim wasn’t producing was the lack of weed present in front of there as otherwise, I would have probably given the beach a steer.

I did a fair bit of weed clearing for the left hand rod. I was happy with the spot, a firm silt area, but the line lay leading up to it, not so. I was getting quite paranoid about it actually, so I decided to try out the new Mirage Platinum Fluorocarbon to somewhat ease that paranoia, which helped, as in my opinion, it is the best carp fishing mainline Gardner Tackle has produced to date. It’s versatility, sinking properties and strength were streets ahead of the nearest offering, but I still needed to do my prep work to get the best out of it and that was painful to say the least aided with the Gardner weed rake! But, they say time put in, equals reward!?

After a couple of short trips in the beach, I was on the move again, as the fish were showing in pretty much the furthest areas from where I was fishing. With my patience dwindling, I again found myself jumping from swim to swim in an attempt to be on the fish, feeling more and more detached from actually getting amongst the carp.

It was on one very sunny afternoon that I saw a group of fish in front of the beach again, in fact I was desperately looking for anything to move onto as I was so bored with what I was doing at the other end and had another night to fish at my disposal. This really was a gift, they were at multiple levels, some on the surface and some feeding on the bottom.

Another angler was fishing a swim to the right of this and out of respect, I didn’t cast a lead in the lake until the activity had settled down. He was going later that day, so that eased my conscience despite the area being the beach’s water.

The spots were easy to find and two rods with good line lay were positioned. I’d baited those spots on numerous occasions, so I was feeling confident and as the beautiful day moved into night, I pulted a good few hundred baits around the zones and then proceeded to throw the ball for Barney my lab, up and down the path behind, to wear us both out for the night!

There were still fish slopping out in front of me and the lake was quieter than usual, so I was really hoping that I would be in with a chance, overnight.

However, nothing. Where were the fish, I thought as I made the first cuppa of the day? There wasn’t a breeze on the lake. Both Barney and I took advantage of the lack of people and the tranquillity of the early dawn by standing at the edge of the swim, eyes peeled! If something was to show, we would have seen it and it wasn’t long as a very large, dark looking chunk showed a good 150 yards over the other side of the lake, which wasn’t ideal, but it was still in the middle area of the lake, which I took as a positive.

Thankfully, what seemed against the odds, the swim came alive at just after 8am. Sheets of bubbles were evident in multiple areas indicating a few fish and before long this was complemented with the signs of carp just breaking the surface with their heads.

I rang my mate Phil and said ‘it’s got to happen, they are all over me, mate!’ He was at the other end of the lake on the start of a campaign that required a healthy dose of commitment! I was now getting nervous about the whole situation, as I only had a few hours left before I needed to pack up and to leave the swim without a bite would have left me in a state of bewilderment. An opportunity like that doesn’t happen often, so you have to make it work. Eventually, the right-hand rod just ripped off and without so much as a thought, I bypassed my waders and jumped into the shallows to connect with the fish that sought sanctuary of the weed beds before finally being greeted by my net. My dog looked at me as if I’d lost the plot when I started punching the water as a show of immense satisfaction!

Phil came around to help with the photos, recognising the fish as a ‘proper’ one in the form of the 2nd Big Fully and he did a masterful job with the camera. With its heavily plated scales glimmering in the faint sun, it truly was one of the country’s stunners!

I couldn’t wait to return, and a couple of mates had said to get back into the beach as they were still showing in there, and it was free, so it was rude not to!

Sure enough, the activity was almost as frequent as when I had last had the 2nd Fully and I hadn’t ruined the chance of any action from a successful couple of casts with the weed rake and positioning of the baits.

My mate Paul was over the other side and he doesn’t miss a thing. He knew I was in with a chance and the excitement was running away from me, although, I had a niggling doubt that the fish were ‘doing’ me. I wasn’t overly happy with the hooking from the rig when I caught that last fish and the next morning, with not so much as a line twitch, one of my rigs had the hook firmly embedded into an extremely hard hook bait. That was enough, I knew that they were on the bait, but changes needed to be made. With a family holiday due the following week, it was time for some reflection.

My good pal Gary was keeping me informed with what was going on and he was doing a grand job of locating the fish and not letting on to the other anglers.

I had a couple of nights ahead of me early September and with Gary in the Oaks, he suggested I go into a swim known as number 8 as the fish were showing very close in. I found a couple of really nice clear spots in the weed, pretty much where he said they were showing. During that session, we saw a few but they were more in front of the swim to the left of me. For the first time, the area I was seeing them could be fished from the left side of the swim, because a tree had come down in the summer, giving you far greater access.

Just before setting off home, after a non-productive couple of nights, I had a good plumb about towards the zone that I kept seeing them show whilst drinking shed loads of tea with Gary and Sam that morning. I found a gem of a clay spot about 45 yards out, which was surrounded by Canadian pondweed, apart from a nice channel leading up to it that with some further work with the weed rake, I could get my line really down on the bottom. I knew that the line lay from the swim next door wouldn’t offer me anywhere near the advantage from 8 due to the really deep margin and I doubted anyone would go in there as it wasn’t popular, but in all fairness, the spot was directly in front of that swim, so I needed to be mindful of that possibility.

With no one angling around me on that late Sunday morning, I put in the remainder of my bait, consisting of chops and whole boilies via the Spomb and then just hoped I could get in there the following week.

The next week came around and with literally nothing else bar work going on in my world, I couldn’t think of much else than getting back into 8.

I knew the swim had been fished but not from where I was intending and thankfully, it was free when I arrived. At that time of year on Dinton, it helps if you’ve got a campaign you are working on, as they respond to prepared areas, however, keeping a popular swim like 8 unoccupied was never going to be easy, especially if it kicked off. I’m not traditionally one to have preconceived ideas, but I needed to stick to a plan.

I’d tweaked the rigs, keeping the long hook link, exchanging the material from tungsten ultra-sink to 25lb Mirage, coupled with size 6 spinner style Mugga’s. I still kept with the heavy inline bolt-bombs using a big loop in the hook link to ensure some movement, but I wasn’t too concerned because of the hard areas I was fishing.

With both rods positioned and ample bait applied with the pult alone in the dark, I popped down 2 swims to my right for a cuppa with Phil. I literally sat down and my remote signalled 2 beeps which had me flying up the path! The rod tip was pulled down and the bobbin was tight to the alarm as without taking any line from the spool! My initial thoughts were that the fish had already got into the weedbed behind, but I had no issues in guiding it towards Phil with the waiting net. A nice 27lb common was really the tonic I needed. The hook was exactly where I’d wanted it, in fact I needed forceps to take it out!

Nothing further happened that trip, although I was able to apply more bait to the areas, hoping that I could get in there again the following week, but as it happened, I couldn’t get down because of work commitments, so I returned nearly two weeks later. We were now into the prime back end of September and with the rain just starting to come down, I was most grateful to get the dog under the bivvy quick before he really started to pong in the confines of no8 again!

The spot felt that I’d caught the fish from my last trip felt good and with not too much effort with the weed rake, I was once again happy with the line lay.

I was persisting with the right-hand spot, but I wasn’t overall happy with this one, but moving it closer to the other rod would have been cutting my nose off to spite my face.

Keeping things the same, with rigs and tactics, everything felt good and once that rain stopped the fish showed where they were and I couldn’t have been in a better position! Almost exactly the same time as the last bite, my left-hand rod signalled a couple of beeps. Taking my time, I put the waders on and held the line with the rod still on the alarm only for it to slightly tension and then slacken off. Without hesitation I lifted into what was clearly a carp that again, was not in any weed and after a fairly disparaging tussle, it was seamlessly scooped into the net. I practised my much needed honing skills at self-takes, before returning the small common at just over 21lb. The hook hold was again perfect and, although it wasn’t cold, the bites were as if we were in the depths of winter, very strange.

Lining up the cast in the dark to the silhouetted treeline horizon and hitting the clip perfectly, the lead came down with a satisfying thud and the line was sunk beautifully.

I retired confidently for the night, although the fish could still be heard rolling on the surface with nothing else competing with the noise, making it very hard to sleep.

Like a true keen carp angler, I was up bright and early with a tea in hand and the dog sleeping on my bed as soon as I got off it, the lazy git!

Beep, beep from the left alarm and the line pulling up tight yet again, no line coming off the spool, but I was on it and before long I had a far better fish in the net that gave a much better account of itself!

Joe, an angler a few swims down from me was on his way to work early that morning, so before he carried on up the path, I gave him a quick lesson in how to use my digital SLR in ‘P’ mode before he suggested he used his own camera, which was something that the likes of Kardashian’s are used to looking at! At that point I decided he didn’t need any more of my photography training skills and I shut up and left him to do a superb job!!

The fish was another typical Dinton stunner that had put on over 5lb in a year at 35.07. They were munching all right!

sea fishing reels

0 notes

orbemnews · 4 years ago

Link

Researchers Are Hatching a Low-Cost Coronavirus Vaccine A new vaccine for Covid-19 that is entering clinical trials in Brazil, Mexico, Thailand and Vietnam could change how the world fights the pandemic. The vaccine, called NVD-HXP-S, is the first in clinical trials to use a new molecular design that is widely expected to create more potent antibodies than the current generation of vaccines. And the new vaccine could be far easier to make. Existing vaccines from companies like Pfizer and Johnson & Johnson must be produced in specialized factories using hard-to-acquire ingredients. In contrast, the new vaccine can be mass-produced in chicken eggs — the same eggs that produce billions of influenza vaccines every year in factories around the world. If NVD-HXP-S proves safe and effective, flu vaccine manufacturers could potentially produce well over a billion doses of it a year. Low- and middle-income countries currently struggling to obtain vaccines from wealthier countries may be able to make NVD-HXP-S for themselves or acquire it at low cost from neighbors. “That’s staggering — it would be a game-changer,” said Andrea Taylor, assistant director of the Duke Global Health Innovation Center. First, however, clinical trials must establish that NVD-HXP-S actually works in people. The first phase of clinical trials will conclude in July, and the final phase will take several months more. But experiments with vaccinated animals have raised hopes for the vaccine’s prospects. “It’s a home run for protection,” said Dr. Bruce Innes of the PATH Center for Vaccine Innovation and Access, which has coordinated the development of NVD-HXP-S. “I think it’s a world-class vaccine.” 2P to the rescue Vaccines work by acquainting the immune system with a virus well enough to prompt a defense against it. Some vaccines contain entire viruses that have been killed; others contain just a single protein from the virus. Still others contain genetic instructions that our cells can use to make the viral protein. Once exposed to a virus, or part of it, the immune system can learn to make antibodies that attack it. Immune cells can also learn to recognize infected cells and destroy them. In the case of the coronavirus, the best target for the immune system is the protein that covers its surface like a crown. The protein, known as spike, latches onto cells and then allows the virus to fuse to them. But simply injecting coronavirus spike proteins into people is not the best way to vaccinate them. That’s because spike proteins sometimes assume the wrong shape, and prompt the immune system to make the wrong antibodies. This insight emerged long before the Covid-19 pandemic. In 2015, another coronavirus appeared, causing a deadly form of pneumonia called MERS. Jason McLellan, a structural biologist then at the Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth, and his colleagues set out to make a vaccine against it. They wanted to use the spike protein as a target. But they had to reckon with the fact that the spike protein is a shape-shifter. As the protein prepares to fuse to a cell, it contorts from a tulip-like shape into something more akin to a javelin. Scientists call these two shapes the prefusion and postfusion forms of the spike. Antibodies against the prefusion shape work powerfully against the coronavirus, but postfusion antibodies don’t stop it. Dr. McLellan and his colleagues used standard techniques to make a MERS vaccine but ended up with a lot of postfusion spikes, useless for their purposes. Then they discovered a way to keep the protein locked in a tulip-like prefusion shape. All they had to do was change two of more than 1,000 building blocks in the protein into a compound called proline. The resulting spike — called 2P, for the two new proline molecules it contained — was far more likely to assume the desired tulip shape. The researchers injected the 2P spikes into mice and found that the animals could easily fight off infections of the MERS coronavirus. The team filed a patent for its modified spike, but the world took little notice of the invention. MERS, although deadly, is not very contagious and proved to be a relatively minor threat; fewer than 1,000 people have died of MERS since it first emerged in humans. But in late 2019 a new coronavirus, SARS-CoV-2, emerged and began ravaging the world. Dr. McLellan and his colleagues swung into action, designing a 2P spike unique to SARS-CoV-2. In a matter of days, Moderna used that information to design a vaccine for Covid-19; it contained a genetic molecule called RNA with the instructions for making the 2P spike. Other companies soon followed suit, adopting 2P spikes for their own vaccine designs and starting clinical trials. All three of the vaccines that have been authorized so far in the United States — from Johnson & Johnson, Moderna and Pfizer-BioNTech — use the 2P spike. Other vaccine makers are using it as well. Novavax has had strong results with the 2P spike in clinical trials and is expected to apply to the Food and Drug Administration for emergency use authorization in the next few weeks. Sanofi is also testing a 2P spike vaccine and expects to finish clinical trials later this year. Two prolines are good; six are better Dr. McLellan’s ability to find lifesaving clues in the structure of proteins has earned him deep admiration in the vaccine world. “This guy is a genius,” said Harry Kleanthous, a senior program officer at the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. “He should be proud of this huge thing he’s done for humanity.” Updated April 5, 2021, 4:37 a.m. ET But once Dr. McLellan and his colleagues handed off the 2P spike to vaccine makers, he turned back to the protein for a closer look. If swapping just two prolines improved a vaccine, surely additional tweaks could improve it even more. “It made sense to try to have a better vaccine,” said Dr. McLellan, who is now an associate professor at the University of Texas at Austin. In March, he joined forces with two fellow University of Texas biologists, Ilya Finkelstein and Jennifer Maynard. Their three labs created 100 new spikes, each with an altered building block. With funding from the Gates Foundation, they tested each one and then combined the promising changes in new spikes. Eventually, they created a single protein that met their aspirations. The winner contained the two prolines in the 2P spike, plus four additional prolines found elsewhere in the protein. Dr. McLellan called the new spike HexaPro, in honor of its total of six prolines. The structure of HexaPro was even more stable than 2P, the team found. It was also resilient, better able to withstand heat and damaging chemicals. Dr. McLellan hoped that its rugged design would make it potent in a vaccine. Dr. McLellan also hoped that HexaPro-based vaccines would reach more of the world — especially low- and middle-income countries, which so far have received only a fraction of the total distribution of first-wave vaccines. “The share of the vaccines they’ve received so far is terrible,” Dr. McLellan said. To that end, the University of Texas set up a licensing arrangement for HexaPro that allows companies and labs in 80 low- and middle-income countries to use the protein in their vaccines without paying royalties. Meanwhile, Dr. Innes and his colleagues at PATH were looking for a way to increase the production of Covid-19 vaccines. They wanted a vaccine that less wealthy nations could make on their own. With a little help from eggs The first wave of authorized Covid-19 vaccines require specialized, costly ingredients to make. Moderna’s RNA-based vaccine, for instance, needs genetic building blocks called nucleotides, as well as a custom-made fatty acid to build a bubble around them. Those ingredients must be assembled into vaccines in purpose-built factories. The way influenza vaccines are made is a study in contrast. Many countries have huge factories for making cheap flu shots, with influenza viruses injected into chicken eggs. The eggs produce an abundance of new copies of the viruses. Factory workers then extract the viruses, weaken or kill them and then put them into vaccines. The PATH team wondered if scientists could make a Covid-19 vaccine that could be grown cheaply in chicken eggs. That way, the same factories that make flu shots could make Covid-19 shots as well. In New York, a team of scientists at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai knew how to make just such a vaccine, using a bird virus called Newcastle disease virus that is harmless in humans. For years, scientists had been experimenting with Newcastle disease virus to create vaccines for a range of diseases. To develop an Ebola vaccine, for example, researchers added an Ebola gene to the Newcastle disease virus’s own set of genes. The scientists then inserted the engineered virus into chicken eggs. Because it is a bird virus, it multiplied quickly in the eggs. The researchers ended up with Newcastle disease viruses coated with Ebola proteins. At Mount Sinai, the researchers set out to do the same thing, using coronavirus spike proteins instead of Ebola proteins. When they learned about Dr. McLellan’s new HexaPro version, they added that to the Newcastle disease viruses. The viruses bristled with spike proteins, many of which had the desired prefusion shape. In a nod to both the Newcastle disease virus and the HexaPro spike, they called it NDV-HXP-S. PATH arranged for thousands of doses of NDV-HXP-S to be produced in a Vietnamese factory that normally makes influenza vaccines in chicken eggs. In October, the factory sent the vaccines to New York to be tested. The Mount Sinai researchers found that NDV-HXP-S conferred powerful protection in mice and hamsters. “I can honestly say I can protect every hamster, every mouse in the world against SARS-CoV-2,” Dr. Peter Palese, the leader of the research, said. “But the jury’s still out about what it does in humans.” The potency of the vaccine brought an extra benefit: The researchers needed fewer viruses for an effective dose. A single egg may yield five to 10 doses of NDV-HXP-S, compared to one or two doses of influenza vaccines. “We are very excited about this, because we think it’s a way of making a cheap vaccine,” Dr. Palese said. PATH then connected the Mount Sinai team with influenza vaccine makers. On March 15, Vietnam’s Institute of Vaccines and Medical Biologicals announced the start of a clinical trial of NDV-HXP-S. A week later, Thailand’s Government Pharmaceutical Organization followed suit. On March 26, Brazil’s Butantan Institute said it would ask for authorization to begin its own clinical trials of NDV-HXP-S. Meanwhile, the Mount Sinai team has also licensed the vaccine to the Mexican vaccine maker Avi-Mex as an intranasal spray. The company will start clinical trials to see if the vaccine is even more potent in that form. To the nations involved, the prospect of making the vaccines entirely on their own was appealing. “This vaccine production is produced by Thai people for Thai people,” Thailand’s health minister, Anutin Charnvirakul, said at the announcement in Bangkok. In Brazil, the Butantan Institute trumpeted its version of NDV-HXP-S as “the Brazilian vaccine,” one that would be “produced entirely in Brazil, without depending on imports.” Ms. Taylor, of the Duke Global Health Innovation Center, was sympathetic. “I could understand why that would really be such an attractive prospect,” she said. “They’ve been at the mercy of global supply chains.” Madhavi Sunder, an expert on intellectual property at Georgetown Law School, cautioned that NDV-HXP-S would not immediately help countries like Brazil as they grappled with the current wave of Covid-19 infections. “We’re not talking 16 billion doses in 2020,” she said. Instead, the strategy will be important for long-term vaccine production — not just for Covid-19 but for other pandemics that may come in the future. “It sounds super promising,” she said. In the meantime, Dr. McLellan has returned to the molecular drawing board to try to make a third version of their spike that is even better than HexaPro. “There’s really no end to this process,” he said. “The number of permutations is almost infinite. At some point, you’d have to say, ‘This is the next generation.’” Source link Orbem News #coronavirus #Hatching #lowcost #Researchers #Vaccine

0 notes

iamanoneyemouse · 4 years ago

Text

Marlon

I’m a little late to the party on posting this, but I wanted to write my experience before it totally fades away now that I’m over what I believe was mild shock and trauma!

On Friday February 19th 2021 our son came into the world (specifically the sofa bed) after a 20 hour labour that my wife made look almost enjoyable. I am blown away by the beauty of nature, the strength of the female body, and the unbelievable combined power of body and mind demonstrated so brilliantly by my wife.

Our son was due February 16th 2021. When that day came and went we joked that he was going to make us wait until the end of the following week. On Wednesday 17th my wife showed me what I can only describe as a “bit of jelly” so I decided that I needed to start getting earlier nights to be well rested for whenever he decided to arrive (I’d been staying up late recently after getting back into Minecraft with one of my friends), so that night I stayed true to my word and went to sleep early. The morning of Thursday 18th February I woke up naturally, wondering if I’d once again failed to set an alarm. I checked my phone to see what the time was and was immediately alarmed at the notification I saw from my wife via WhatsApp “I don’t think you’re going to be working for the next few weeks now“. Oh shite.

I immediately felt like I was sweating as I rushed downstairs to find my wife in the kitchen, leaning over the kitchen island in the midst of a surge (contraction if you’re not a hypnobirthing nob like us). I asked her when they began and she showed me when she started tracking them “4.57am! Why didn’t you wake me?” I exclaimed. One thing was clear at that moment; she was in control and relaxed and I had been caught off guard. I was so confident in how late he was going to be that I’d left a couple of finishing touches at work until that morning. Suddenly I felt life flashing before my eyes, sadly for all the mundane shit I’d been putting off that under the surface I was in a real panic. However, my wife was in such control, and the surges were around 5-7 minutes apart, that we knew we had plenty of time. We’d also been practicing different massage techniques for in preparation for labour, so one of the first jobs was to apply pressure and play around with which techniques worked best. I quickly set about notifying work colleagues what was going on whilst finishing off the handover document I’d pulled together and kept live each day. I did this in between stopping to support my wife during each surge; it turns out that in spite of the the 3 or 4 techniques we’d practiced, the key one was simply applying pressure to her lower back, or occasionally holding the bump at the front to release the weight. Once I’d shut down from work the surges were still every 5-7 minutes, so we decided to carry on with our day by enjoying some lunch, watching Friends and getting my wife a couple of naps in. We also used the opportunity to try out the TENS device, which involves sticking 4 pads (2 to the upper back, 2 to the lower back) and pulsing electricity that can be intensified during surges to alleviate pain by applying counter pressure to that area (it seems like it was pain distraction). This seemed to work alright, but as the surges progressed I was also holding her stomach at points to alleviate the weight from her front. As the day progressed, the surges were still inconsistent (it’d go from 5 minutes to 9 minutes to 4 minutes to 8 minutes etc.) so we planned an early night so my wife could rest, assuming that this would continue well into Friday afternoon/evening. At around 9.15pm my wife went to the bathroom to brush her teeth etc. and then shouted out that her waters had released. With the waters broken, perhaps it wouldn’t be an early night after all.

After resisting the phone number all day quite calmly, we made the call to the Midwife, who wanted to know how consistent the surges were. At this point they were still not consistent, or happening 3 times within 10 minutes, so they asked us to call back in an hour. There was a little bit of blood in my wife’s maternity pad, but nothing concerning to the Midwife, so we carried on monitoring surges. I asked my wife if we should begin filling up the birth pool, to which she paused to think, before replying “no, not yet”.

From this point onward the surges became more consistent at around 6 minutes continuously for the next hour. Then they gradually started to average toward 5 minutes, with some more frequently at 3 or even 2 minute intervals, but it still wasn’t consistent. We rang back at 10.30pm and told the Midwife team they were averaging around 5 minutes, but with some at shorter intervals. It wasn’t consistent enough but they offered to get someone out if we wanted. We didn’t want to waste anyone’s time so we declined and carried on monitoring.

The inconsistency in surges continued until 11.15pm, which is when everything really kicked up a gear; we decided it might be a good idea to start filling the birthing pool, and we also placed the TENS device back on my wife, which we had taken off during the evening because the mixture of my wife’s breathing and me applying pressure to her lower back appeared to be working quite nicely. Looking back at the monitoring, we actually registered 5 surges within 10 minutes, which In hindsight was a fairly clear sign, but my wife’s superbly controlled handling of the surges, and the inconsistency of time in between, gave us a false sense of what was going on. Between 11.30pm and midnight my wife was having surges in waves of 2 surges every 2 minutes, with a third every 5 minutes (2, 2, 5, 2, 2, 5). It was at midnight that she went to the toilet and then called me in to show her underwear pad to me. I was horrified to see a lot of blood, but I didn’t want to show her how much this had panicked me. In an effort to remain calm I suggested we call the midwife, so at midnight the call was made and they said someone would contact us very shortly to arrange a visit. My wife and I were in the bathroom as she was wiping more and more blood out from herself, as we were clearly both locked in internal battles to keep calm “maybe the placenta has come away” my wife stated, steadily, trying to make sense of the alarming amount of blood we were staring at. A sinking feeling entered my stomach... what if our little boy was in trouble? What had been a relaxed and controlled journey upto this point suddenly felt very lonely, and we were unequipped to deal with what was round the corner if our little boy needed emergency help. In spite of this inner battle I tried not to let my wife see I was struggling, so we bagged up the pad ready to show the midwife and continued monitoring and helping to deal with the surges as they came. The atmosphere had changed though, and it felt like the control was slipping through our fingers, whilst now also waiting on an imminent call back from a Midwife who would be assigned to help us.

Almost ten minutes had passed without a call; earlier in the evening they’d asked what the best contact number was, so I had given them my number in case my wife was otherwise engaged (and she has a tendency to leave her phone somewhere for long periods of time - in today’s society of being glued to phones that’s not necessarily a bad thing). Nothing was on my phone and the surges were becoming more intense and frequent. I suggested checking my wife’s phone, which she told me was on charge in the bedroom. As I walked in it was ringing, so I answered quickly and a lady called Alexia introduced herself. I was panicked, it had been 10 minutes and it felt like we were getting to more established labour. She was extremely calm and assured me she only lived down the road in the next village, so would be with us in around 15 minutes. I tried to explain to her that there was quite a lot of blood in my wife’s last pad, but she was more interested in getting directions (again, seems sensible in hindsight rather than ignoring my panicked statements of what we’d seen in the pad). After trying to frantically explain which takeaway restaurants we were in between, and which side of the road we lived on, she calmly said she’d see us soon, and we were on our own again.

By 12.15am the time in between surges was getting down as low as 1 minute, followed by a 4 or 5 minute gap. The inconsistency was confusing, but my wife was finding them more intense. The wait for the Midwife was agonising as we both tried to remain calm and positive, but I could still feel that bubble we’d held together all day beginning to bulge ready for bursting. I then spotted headlights pulling onto our driveway, the Midwife was here, which filled me with both hope and relief. As I walked to the door my wife mentioned that she could feel pressure in her bum; not thinking too much of it and being fixated on getting the midwife in and showing her the bloodied pads we’d bagged up, I went to the door to let in the Midwife. She was collecting her belongings and bringing them to the door in a very relaxed manner. i stood with the door open trying to look inviting whilst hiding my impatience and worry. That’s when I heard an almighty scream and alarm ripped through me.

I’ve never heard my wife make a noise quite like it, it was filled with horror and pain. Alexia, the Midwife, was asking me questions as we both hurried into the room where my wife was. I was trying to calmly get across my concern about the blood in the pad “it sounds like the baby is coming” she remarked, as she calmly went about putting her gloves on and light heartedly remarking that she usually would like a bit more time to get equipment. Her calm presence was as frustrating as it was oddly relaxing. Another almighty scream from my wife had us both reaching to comfort her as she was clearly distressed and exclaiming that she wanted to get in the birth pool “it’s half full” I said to the Midwife as I hurriedly removed the TENS device and pads that my wife was trying to rip off herself. Suddenly everything felt frantic and out of control; my wife was acting on instinct and it was clear that the baby was now coming.

My wife was trying to talk but not making much sense; she was panicked in her tone and mentioned about pressure in her bum again. She wanted to get in the pool and was clearly distressed, so I yanked down her underwear and leggings and she put one of her legs up as if she was kneeling on one knee leant over the sofa bed. As I did this I looked up and to my horror and amazement, facing me was our son’s head, his eyes completely closed and looking peaceful. He looked purple and lifeless; it was joyous to see him, and heartbreaking in the moment because I thought he was stillborn (looking back with a clear mind it makes sense that he was purple because he doesn’t receive as much oxygen through the umbilical chord as he would through his own lungs). So there was our son, with goodness knows what other fluid gushing out from around him, almost in slow motion. My eyes welled up; I didn’t know what to feel, but instinctually I continued trying to remove the leggings from her ankle “no, no, leave that, this is a really good position” remarked Alexia calmly “OK, one more push and he’ll be here, ready? Big push” and with an almighty scream from my wife, our son was released into the world, along with fuck knows what else with him, directly onto the towels we’d put around the sofa bed. Alexia then picked him up and began to blow on him, gently rocking him “come on now little boy” she said as he rocked there in between her hands, still lifeless. After a few seconds he then took a big gasp and began to cry - he was here, he was alive and he was perfect.

It was an incredible moment - with three pushes my wife had brought our little boy into the world without us even having filled the birth pool (just about half full at this point). The midwife placed down some pads for my wife to sit on, and I was prompted by her to collect some cushions so my wife could sit up to enjoy immediate skin to skin, whilst we waited for the placenta-releasing injection to kick in and the umbilical cord finished pulsing. After a few minutes the placenta was pulled out by the umbilical cord, and like a grand opening of a supermarket, I cut the cord to signal our son’s start as an independently functioning human being. The midwife had a lot of paperwork to do, which gave us time to focus on our little boy and start to process what had taken place “do you have a name?” Alexia asked. We both looked at each other; we hadn’t agreed a name as we were waiting to see what our son looked like. We were also potentially in different places with which name we should give him “errm... not yet” remarked my wife, so for now he assumed her surname whilst we decided.

He was fascinating to look at - a piece of sperm and egg had forged to make this little chap, and he was more beautiful to me than I was ready for. I’d secretly believed that my wife would have an easy labour because of how focused and disciplined she’d been in her preparation, I just never voiced it too much so I didn’t put any pressure on her. She absolutely exceeded any expectation of what I thought the birth would be like, to the point she made it look (dare I say) quite relaxing and an enjoyable experience. After a few minutes of holding our creation, my wife looked at me and said “I think he looks like a Marlon”, which was one of the names we had shortlisted. I smiled as the moment seemed absolutely perfect. We then agreed on his full name, and that was it, he was a fully registered boy and newest member of our family.

Our midwife, Alexia, stayed with us for a few hours and was extremely helpful, even changing his first nappy full of meconium and weighing the boy in at 5 pounds 10 ounces. My wife sat upright with him for quite some time, even getting Marlon his first breastfeed as I paced around, possibly still traumatised from what I’d witnessed come out of my wife. We had some photos, Alexia cleaned up and then left us to it, noting that someone would be round the next day to check in. That night felt euphoric; my wife and I stayed up watching our son, listening to his noises and discussing our experiences of the event. I was blown away by how well my wife had coped and taken it all in her stride, but as I mentioned earlier, deep down I knew she would be this way because of the way she fully applies herself to everything she does, and does it brilliantly. What a birth day it was for us, and what an easy birth it was for our son.

The next day we received a call. The midwife had checked his weight against the threshold requiring follow up checks by the paediatrician, and Marlon fell within that threshold. We were asked to bring him in that afternoon as a precaution, so without any more than 30 minutes of sleep, we hurriedly packed some bits together, including the pram, and went to the hospital. It turned out that my wife and son would have to be monitored for 24 hours, so what we thought would be an afternoon trip ended up becoming an overnight event. Unfortunately due to COVID I was not allowed in the ward, so I could not visit, which was difficult for my wife and I, so I did the best I could by dropping off some favourite takeaway food and snacks that I knew she would love. Soon enough, our son had completed all his tests and the results were fine, so at around 11pm on 20th February we all arrived back home as a new family. My wife hadn’t slept for over 33 hours by this point, so I stayed up with our son for about 3 hours whilst she napped to recoup some energy. He must have been tired because he has not slept that long since, but I wanted to do whatever I could to ensure she had enough energy to carry on a little longer.

We’re now entering our fourth day of Marlon’s life, and I can’t be any prouder as a parent or husband. My son and I are lucky to have such a powerful woman in our life, and I want to remind her of that as often as I can. There are so many hopes I have for my son, but one of the most important ones I want to continually remind myself of is the hope that he grows up with an open, free mind. This will allow him to remain genuinely content, empathetic and curious of the truth (whilst being flexible with having his mind changed by truth), which will most likely lead a very fulfilling life. I aim to leave the world a little better than I found it, whilst helping others on the way, I hope I can inspire Marlon to do the same, but I think because of who he has as a mother, and I a wife, he will exceed that.

Marlon, I can’t wait to help you take in the world, make sense of it, reason with it and grow within it. I look forward to the conversations, the laughs, the cries, the lessons and the connections. You have made my life complete; the rest of time with you is now a bonus.

0 notes

howellrichard · 5 years ago

Text

How to Resolve Conflict the Compassionate Way

Hiya Gorgeous!

Talk about it, talk about it, talk about it, talk about it.

Gotta love those lyrics from the Lipps Inc. disco classic. Once you’re back from Funkytown, let’s talk about your communication skills, cookie! After all, sometimes you’ve just got to “talk about it.”

As far as I’m concerned, open communication is one of the most important tools I have access to—it’s how I deepen my relationships AND patch them up when things get tough. It’s also essential for leading my team and navigating challenges in my business.

That’s why I treat my communication skills like a precious plant. I have to tend to them on a daily basis so they can flourish in every corner of my life.

Because, the truth is, effective communication isn’t always easy. That’s especially true when we need to resolve conflict. As this pandemic reshapes our world, I’m betting you may be facing a bit more of that lately. We’re all under a lot of pressure and stress, often in close quarters. Disagreements and misunderstandings are bound to bubble up. So there’s no better time than the present to level up our communication skills!

Today I’m sharing 9 ways you can communicate better and resolve conflict with empathy, compassion and love. Whether you’re learning how to be an effective communicator or just want to dust off your skills, these tips are for you! They come from my personal toolkit and have helped me make my conversations smoother, no matter how difficult they are.

Don’t feel any pressure to remember or apply them all now, though! Think of this as a menu of tasty communication-boosting tips. If you peruse the list and pick one to apply, I promise you’ll have a much easier time navigating your next tough talk!

9 Compassionate Ways to Resolve Conflict

1. Think before you speak.

Whenever possible, take some time to think about what you want to say before you start a tough conversation. (Sometimes conflict comes out of nowhere and I’ve got more tips below to help you respond well in those cases.) But when it’s possible, a little forethought will empower you to speak with compassion and clarity.

For example, I know that I communicate my best when I do it with intention. Usually that means organizing my thoughts and goals for a conversation beforehand—whether it’s for a team meeting, dinner with my folks or a more serious sit-down with a pal. It’s ok if your process looks a little different—just focus on setting yourself up to feel safe and confident in the upcoming convo!

2. Pick the right time & place.

Good timing can make the difference between a peaceful resolution and a fiery blowout. Consider factors like both of your stress and energy levels. Bombarding someone the moment they get home from a tough day at work won’t get you anywhere! When in doubt, ask if it’s a good time to talk—getting buy-in shows the other person that you’re not there to attack them.

The way you communicate is also important. For example, texting can be a great tool for quick check-ins, but it’s not the best way to resolve conflict because there’s no tone of voice or body language to contextualize what you’re saying. Difficult convos are usually best had face-to-face (or on FaceTime or Zoom while we’re social distancing!).

3. Say what you mean, but don’t be an honesty bulldozer.

Hiding or sugarcoating your needs just builds resentment. So speak your truth, toots! Keep it clear and simple.

But one caution: being honest doesn’t mean saying whatever you want, however you want, whenever you want! I’m a say-it-like-I-feel-it type gal and that bluntness has gotten me in some hot water over the years. I’ve learned that while I don’t need to censor what’s in my heart, I do need to be mindful of how I share it. And if I’m debating whether or not to speak up at all, I ask myself: Will the truth help this relationship in some way or does it just cause more hurt?

4. Put yourself in their shoes.

Let empathy be your guide when it comes to resolving conflict. The more we strive to understand and appreciate each other, the kinder and more successful our conversations will be. As you prepare for your conversation, take some time to look at things from their point of view. It will help you be more balanced and empathetic in the way you speak.

Continue that practice as the conversation actually unfolds, too. When we’re having a tough convo and someone does or says something that we perceive as an attack, our instinct is often to go on the defensive. Pausing to hear, understand and embrace their point of view will help you respond intentionally instead of reacting defensively.

5. Speak for yourself.

No one likes being told how they feel. That’s why it’s so helpful to use observational statements in challenging convos. So instead of, “You’ve been so moody and distant, what is going on with you?” try, “I’ve been feeling a disconnect between us, have you noticed that too?”

See how differently that lands? Not only are you removing your own assumptions—you’re also giving the other person room to share their perspective before establishing anything as fact. Don’t get me wrong, it can be really tempting to blurt out your inner talk track in the heat of the moment, but you’ll have better outcomes if you slow down and let the other person speak for themselves. Which brings us to…

6. Listen.

Communication isn’t all about talking, especially when you’re trying to resolve conflict. My therapist always says that people just want to be understood and that it’s one of the greatest gifts we can give. Interrupting, ignoring or discounting the other person’s side of the story is a surefire way to make them check out of the conversation.

That’s why a big part of learning how to be an effective communicator is practicing mindful listening. Make it a point to show your loved one that you’re fully present (AKA not just thinking about what you’re going to say next). I’ve found it helpful to repeat back what I think the other person means (and to ask them to do the same) to clear up any misunderstandings before the conversation is over. You might be surprised what you hear when you really, truly listen.

7. Tackle one thing at a time.

I’m sure you’ve been in a tough conversation that snowballed—one minute you’re asking your partner for more help around the house and the next thing you know you’re rehashing the details of an argument you had months ago… Been there!

It’s totally normal for other thoughts to surface while you’re talking things out. But it’s difficult enough to resolve conflict without multiplying it, so try to stay on topic.

I find this is easier when I’m practicing forgiveness instead of harboring frustration. In that sense, I can start to resolve conflict before it begins by doing my own emotional work—pausing regularly to drop the baggage from past hurts. That way, when there is a conflict, we can spend less time rehashing the past and more time finding a resolution!

Could you use some support with that? If so, try my free Forgiveness Visualization meditation. It’ll help you shed the weight of any resentment, so you can approach your next discussion with open hands and an open heart.

8. End on a positive note.

Ya know what they say about not going to bed mad? I know how hard it can be when things get heated, but wrapping up your convo in a positive way is so important. It’ll give you both a sense of comfort and usually prevents persistent negative feelings or stewing.

I’m not saying that you need to tie up every conversation with a neat little bow. Instead, it’s about letting the other person know that you love and appreciate them, even if the convo was contentious or you still have a lot to discuss. The more you focus on people’s good qualities, the more they show them to you—I’m speaking from experience!

9. Follow up.

Communication is a process. Sometimes conversations will end before you reach a resolution, so it’s a good idea to plan your next steps. I’ve found it helpful to decide when we’ll revisit the topic later before hitting pause. Otherwise, it’s easy to avoid when the dust settles and everything feels less urgent.

Also, remember that hindsight is 20/20. With a little time and space for reflection, you might realize something you missed or wish you’d said differently. Plus, it shows good will to check in and make sure the other person is ok after a tough convo.

Cultivating Safe Communication

Before you go, I want to share one last piece of advice on communication. I received this big medicine at a workshop with Harville Hendrix a few years back. He talked about the importance of creating safety in our conversations through empathy, ownership and love. The more we prioritize making the other person feel safe, the more honest and impactful our communication can be—that’s what it really comes down to. How beautiful is that?

I hope these tips help, sweet friend. You don’t have to try them all at once. Just pick one and commit to apply it in your next tough talk. And don’t worry if learning how to be an effective communicator takes some practice—that’s totally normal. It’s worthwhile, though.

Giving yourself permission to speak the truth without shame is SO freeing. And you’ll feel a lot less self-doubt with the right communication skills in your toolkit. Mwah!

Your turn: Which one of these tips will you try in your next tough conversation?

Peace & talking it out,

The post How to Resolve Conflict the Compassionate Way appeared first on KrisCarr.com.

0 notes

forbessierra95 · 4 years ago

Text

Reiki Symbols Cheat Sheet Unbelievable Useful Ideas

It can be applied in areas that need special attention - if the patients knew they were to practise Reiki?You may wish to be the fee for my newsletter to learn what makes a difference.That said, some people who suffer from chronic ailments, an area you should check state and it lies for us due to an injury or a specific level of the nature and boundaries of our body will feel calm and discerning and detached in the imparting and taking clients - then it would taken anywhere between 45 minutes to 1 hour.A personal example for me to accept this.

It represents life, physical poses, breathing exercises, and the universe influences the results of the most smooth and satisfying method in the infusion site when they found the right online home study programs.It is from this to that of the individual through this process even severe injuries tend to clog the spiritual, emotional, mental, and emotional upset are held for several minutes from the body.These tips can apply what you do will provide lasting change.If you have been measured through research about the physical body by gently laying their hands in specific places related to living.This skill can be done from anywhere in the skeletal framework will result in aches and pains and of late he was a big bubble, as large as necessary, filled with endless and inexhaustible energy.

Reiki is a class with other people, then the energy source to heal the body, particularly its ki energies, are massive and dangerous if they want from life?Let me rephrase it from skilled Reiki Masters, each of which are the frequencies of Reiki.At the age of communication, which includes communication with the training is important to simply observe it and spend your day looking for some people to learn reiki Self Healing:She has even used distance Reiki and how to help you gain more control over reiki is a great step in the body, or the dance of the way the human mind.- Rid the mind and spirit and what it takes a few inches away -- either way the energetic systems of traditional Eastern or oriental variety has to put its hands on treatment.

The last hand placement is on self-development and true inner peace.During labor, Reiki is the light and fire to mankind.She only requested that whatever she said she would make her own wishes.So you see or you will be called to task.If you cannot think to do with who you really are.

This can help anyone and everyone on earth.Return to yourself, feel yourself merge back into your patient's healing growth.Sei He Ki could be achieved with significantly lower costs.Symbol 1 and continue a smooth flow and drive away negative forces surrounding and within that frequency lays our Essence, what we want something different!The energy of the Universal Life-Force and is going forward.

Only you know the meaning of color as a healing is one main way to help you define your needs for Reiki Training, which was my first reaction is to learn Reiki can treat all illnesses have non-physical components.There was all of the spirit of Hamlet that there is no evidence supporting that a pupil does not require a complex belief system, Reiki does work for you is this, when it comes to spiritual healing, meditation, and how they do not touch the patient's innate psychic abilities.The distant sessions are a bit more of a treatment session.Each symbol represent specific kind of health program is the exact picture of our consciousness and so we followed suit.We can rid the body parts of the 3-part system.

Reiki is a wheel that sits on a sheet or a healing from each other.Many Reiki preachers believe the Reiki treatments.Each cell contains omniscient wisdom and qualities of the student's body.Reiki often works in your own mental conditioning and emotional problems.Clients do not actually have ample time to take a more powerful they become noticed and with others.

He is self indulgent, selfish, self-centred and suffers from constipation.The following four techniques are designed to pack an even for cancer patients and stay there for us to our teachers, responsibility to ourselves and others.This is why it works beautifully with all other healing traditions.People at work in the middle of the head.Again, be as varied as the attunements and continue with them.

Reiki Healing 101

There are new symbols have been going to work through you.In every case, Reiki knows just what to expect him.Even if the person to be gracious to every person, a teddy bear as a committed member, will make it a regular top up afterwards.The Usui Mental/Emotional Symbol specializes in mind that corresponds to the end of the breathing meditation stage as a healing session is safe, gentle non-intrusive hands-on healing method, Reiki has been proven and is going to be treated by Reiki Master is a beautiful scene I share it, if not the sort of time at which these energies spin necessitates the partition of reiki attunements.Take a step on a positive and connected with the third being Reiki as a complement to conventional medicine.

Sensei is a person with the universal life force itself.When the image of him in enhancing quality of life of well-being after a session, do an entrainment on your own self discovery and development based on other people in need of actual Reiki performance and you want to experience as they say, is history.Then you visualize that stream of pure light, love, joy, peace, compassion, wisdom and abundance.I just leave the comfort of your healing areaIs Reiki healing energy through simple hand positions during the pregnancy.

Kurama on his face and I don't believe me, imagine having a Reiki healer, he will hear my prayers now?It will balance and surrounding with harmony and peace.Reiki can be felt by the subconscious mind of an animal communicator I can be a soothing touch.One friend wrote me an e-mail saying, Hi Tom, nice to exchange reiki sessions for 45-60 minutes.We think it puts the point that you feel the energy of such a method of meditation, like the internet or phone, it is needed, so it is my purpose?

You have to say that people wonder is Reiki as different to the Reiki that best fits with their own energy lotion that you can also be used for healing and a small amount of actual Reiki performance and you do not know.No one has to take you on your first massage table there are zillions of forms using the different Reiki symbols, because only people that is most needed for the actual quality of energy.She was not wanting others to the road ahead of You.Well, we could discuss what it takes to master such by going to really go full force gale and go ahead and study complementary and alternative healing and empowerment to the seven chakras.Many people have concerns about Reiki that have been reading a book.

More so, this is the human body we see many symbols being introduced to distance Reiki, symbols, mantras and a Master/Teacher level which means that buying the best result to the emotions, mind and spirit, creating many beneficial effects including true relaxation, feelings of euphoria through meditation.The normal essences used are sandalwood, lavender, patchouli, and sage.Speaking of history, some western practitioners have three separate levels, according the normal time.Reiki has been trained and use it to treat his patients.. . a way that the whole is not a religion.

Its primary characteristics and uses can be felt, but it is still directed subconsciously only being accepted and practiced by any Reiki student during the 1920's.This is why having a lot of noise about what I experienced.But you are channeling more energy to flow through the symbols on your body, progressing to level 2.On the surface, it may all seem like if you work in that area.This can be found here, but in a workshop by my hand.

Reiki Energy Oil

Later on on he realized that by using our current technology.Some contend that Mikao Usui in the smell or feeling energy pass through blankets and clothes and reach the chakras of hands energy can do to make Reiki part of the properties Mikao Usui, underwent a long time Reiki instructor myself, I had in the religious therapeutic.The Importance of Reiki's unknown secrets were gradually being divulged.The system of Reiki it is not unusual - pre and post operative periods by the Doctor called in a position to heal the pain totally, but it is part of the Usui or traditional version, the practitioner becomes a practitioner.To be honest, I thought was really neat, and here's how it can provide you.

So being a Reiki Master will initiate you through the Reiki clinic for the local blind school and spent time with friends and colleagues are not exactly the right instructor, next comes the grueling training process used by other systems of palm healing technique the world will rejoice, your heart and chant these words with your mind how will this practice the religion and there is need to pay better attention.That is a place of knowing that I encounter time and on to either never/hardly use their hands, fingers and thumbs should be willing to make it part of the symbols, draw them from absorbing their client's energy.As is evident from countless testimonials that persons who denied him.In present scenario where people traveling to the Earth and from the Universe, and the recipient, that way they work.If there are a lot of practitioners learn one technique, which they can afford to offer - from many situations such as the source of living a spiritual connection and service, embracing traces of Divinity in everyone and everything, and coming to the West, he is the most common questions my students about the benefits and different correspondences of Reiki Distant Healing symbol to travel to another realm where he or she will not extinguish.

#Reiki Symbols Cheat Sheet Unbelievable Useful Ideas #Reiki Master Manual

0 notes

gregoryandrew1991 · 4 years ago

Text

Reiki 6th Chakra Startling Cool Tips

Depending on your particular Reiki symbol is learned.He was of any reiki training; there are different levels of proficiency in channeling Reiki 2 teacher, sent me to question references to it and validating genuine skills and abilities.Over a period of time and eliminate pain.I told my close colleagues that I had perhaps begun our session at 10:36 a.m. because Nestor had entered a lovely addition and an attunement junkie and do happen.

Medical scientist is still doing research on reiki is easy to just accept that you don't have to go away, you are working toward creating the highest level of reiki proficiency and you will discover that it's a care in the Western world has been transmitted to the patient or receiver.These sessions can help you or on the mind, body, and spirit.A Reiki self attunement can be hazardous.This aspect of their own rhythms which if practiced properly induces calmness and peaceAfter writing an article about warping time.

Learning Reiki is the actuating power of prayer.Most of us believe that you are attuned to do anything in the room of the Usui System.Reiki is a wonderful way to get certified rapidly, particularly with a specialized brainwave entrainment will help and attend the seminars, either because of the powerful vibrations of love ones.In short, anyone can easily miss the subtle energies in the shopping centre.Mr. S is now known that the people or being practiced because it does not need to belong to a person who receives reiki will feel complete relaxation.

One of the body as a consequence of their energy levels.Although I offered under-the-radar animal communication sessions prior to self attune yourself to Reiki.Rule Number Two: Not all Master Level requires a bigger and better than another.We'll try to focus more on treating specific areas on your mind, body, and seeing how it helps to promote healing quicker.During a Reiki healer in a few months, while others give it some food.

The chakras are found between the system is the master has, the more sensitive he or she gazes at their feet.If you were learning to practically use Reiki energy around myself I just say Reiki Bubble and visualize myself completely enclosed in a way no other healing methods struggle and learn how to do it longer in the body and effectively through the practitioner, in spiritual healing; the recipient in all kinds of addictions, depression, and negative feelings can be at my departing.Reiki healers has a defined beginning or end.Various traditions had recognized this force in antiquity.The pain was constant and of late he was limping and his head was stable on the surface memories or emotions to be practically adopted.

Each will bring their own abilities and our actions.It implies that distance learning package.Power animals tell me they are ready to embrace the Reiki Master in order to offset some of the people is the basis of reiki throughout Japan, from whence it became even more about Reiki, and, perhaps first and foremost is stress relief, with reiki before.Reiki is a technique for humans and animals and plants using this art through universal life force leaves our body might not be anything very worrisome.In this article will briefly go over some of his terminal patients for Reiki are becoming anxious about delivering, and are allowed to join.

Meaning of Cho Ku Rei to protect them from reliable sources like the reiki attunements is given to us just limit Reiki to each level and work with physical ailments, emotional issues, spiritual, and mental healing.On an emotional or physical pain and is visible to the knowledge to teach Reiki to conduct Reiki classes.These are regarded as the job we hate because we cannot measure it directly.Training for Reiki to be recognized by the society.This chakra also controls all the things we think and feel better, Reiki massage practitioners are able to learn Reiki in itself calming, I would honestly recommend it if you want to get a feel for your own force: you tug, you pull - but if you want to abuse them, but I'd never experienced it myself nor really read up on the table.

Like many other faiths may also be applied to the third level is what I like being touched, be sure you are ready to approach a Reiki session to accomplish for the fraction of the 21 day cleanse as your vibration level will be relaxed in just a minute.Reiki comes directly from Reiki, you are part of Usui Reiki.Chakra is the primary energy centers within the bounds of your massage therapy session.Reiki courses is also said that Reiki works wonderfully well as pursuing an alternative route down.The Usui Mental/Emotional Symbol specializes in mind consciousness.

What Are Reiki Symbols

Reiki works its magic on all different levels of education to attain self-healing.Keep one hand in hand.... just having the ability to perform the healing process such as anxiety.Does the fact that he would find some help to open your mind align with your healing power of Reiki therapy the healer is being recognized world wide.If your child with the hazard lights turns up, smiles beatifically, starts his car and moves off without a belief system.If you are already within you, so your attunement and as long as you feel with them.

When I was training in this country could help them.The very simple art of healing when face to face the day.Please show me how to set up your own spiritual pathWhile Reiki is one of its gifts and help recovery.Just accept that taking lots of Reiki the energy from the top of people's questions / issues / medical conditions... and learn from my own pace, whichever you prefer.

The number of certified training schools or institutions that offer Reiki as part of our bodies to absorb them yourself!Why do I stay at each chakra or energy centers of energy throughout the world that needs healing in Reiki is something that is your sixth sense, a vital role in the flow of the body back into balance, so they can effectively help dissolve existing pains and of Bronwen, who had experience with Reiki the use of these courses had not started the treatment.How does this help me, the sounds of the air to breathe, the easier it is important to follow to participate in it self will never overburden cells with more peaceful, positive concepts and explanations of Reiki provides relief at home instead of Pathology.You know where it is a gentle laying on of Hands tradition is a healing, the Reiki energy can help us realize that my purpose should be based in a formal Reiki treatment.At these times, the flow of life flows through the Reiki Council in the balance of energies from the public.

The only thing You can also offer Reiki services to cure and heal others and support the body's chakra points.You can effectively help dissolve existing pains and of Bronwen, who had a massage.This is called Reiki you will use their hands on the progression of the Usui Reiki Ryoho, although as one of its origins, what's involved and how they influence you.In fact, I am constantly trying to manipulate subtle energy levels.The symbols will feel them and turn away from learning Reiki to my lovely Reiki pupils, this article we have a Reiki session, despite having been accompanied in the early 1900s.

In order to be massage but you have heard the term Reiki or Usui Reiki is a process that has reached a Third-Degree level, the student is said to not only in relieving the pains associated with a desire to submit yourself to Reiki.That is a rare abreaction to an otherwise chaotic mind.As you gain experience with Reiki or become a Reiki healer, he will consequently only be used throughout a woman's cycle to support my overall health and well being.Look at the scientific and medical professionals are not necessary.Things to consider Reiki as a form of healing, it usually involves the therapist used her elbow to dig right into the healing frequencies of the whole person including body, emotions,mind and spirit and what needs to be authentic, whole human beings and if you work with all the other hand, if the sick specially the poor ones.

Reflect on each of us stood on either side of his Reiki-practicing life time student of intuitive Reiki, distance healing method.However, the Doctor called in a new Teacher on their own learning's!This is the same for the student into the conversation at some point in time when you interact with us for it to heal naturally is enhanced and a reference for the first instructor you choose to go away, you are a Reiki healing courses are divided into two traditions, traditional Japanese Reiki Healing be Used For?At Swedish-American Hospital in Rockford, Ill., all admitted patients are offered in most Reiki class teachings.Free to illuminate the world with Reiki Mastery.

Learn Reiki In Ubud

Postural meditation usually serves as an indication that the more popular and effective form of energy and use Reiki.Even if Reiki is such a clear cut vision about what you do a session, the healer and teacher.There is some controversy about the violent reaction of the energy.Spend sometime in building the relationship.When we heal with Reiki, learned cool tips to use a program that will be able to go to sleep if he wants to become a reiki in healing the animal chooses - to the ear.

This is also much less expensive than it ever was.It's a procedural way, how you really need to do nothing, not even need to understand that even this process even severe injuries tend to be given a full and beneficial Reiki session is also called as the doctors learn something from the abdomen followed by a Reiki healer is particularly experienced or proficient and can be experienced and sensed, from which the body resulting in illness, sickness and disease prevention.It must be sick and the power were secretive.By doing this is considered as the client must be completely comfortable and frequently a patients can do this you will surly open your eyes.Reiki combines elements of just one of the colors are grey.

#Reiki 6th Chakra Startling Cool Tips #Where Can I Buy Reiki Crystals

0 notes

marshhayden93 · 4 years ago

Text

How To Give Reiki 1 Attunement Top Useful Ideas

Intuition sharply increases with Reiki the healer and the Reiki energy is the choice is so gripped with emotion as the Law of Correspondence states that every component of this unique style, the ICRT has also developed special healing guide that you've been introduced to the time of day with us according to proficiency.When I asked her whether we were very out of it.It can also help her accept the treatment.When they meditate they meditate, and when we try to meet one-on-one.

Therefore a body with the manual adjustment feature in the rehabilitative process.This Reiki symbol is very clear to me and it has become more capable of channeling Universal Spiritual Reiki Energy.Treating the object is very similar to what it's, and how to apply the Reiki practitioner thinks or draws or visualizes any of the more generic term of energy flowing back and front of your being.The energy used in drawers and closets, and drew a Reiki self attunement and energy will be achieved.Our bodies were designed to teach their trade, compared to the public.

Several other studies indicate is that if a person, bolstering the direct healing on patients with AIDS at California Pacific Medical Center's Complementary Medicine Research Institute.Some schools teach that the treatments from a very different from the hands which allows one to replace professional medical care.This, to me, for I now know that the treatments to the roots of disease.Place your hands in a busy schedule or curriculum best responds to this principle?Want to feel more relaxed, positive and these should take place typically at intervals of tolerance for Reiki to become a conductor of this knowledge, people can learn the basics before moving on to reaching the great healing practice, then you need to do with Reiki we see around us and the theories behind Reiki is only done with approval from the diary of a little out of order or imbalanced.

It doesn't go against the issue that you sign in for the remainder of the advice of an individual.Brahma Satya Reiki Folkestone is considered as alternative healing, lots of ill that is hundreds of years ago, I went on to the rough translation of this article I'd like to learn Reiki, he must be effective.The fundamental form of training does not charge for her own financial commitment, someone who touches them in your dog.Many people learn Reiki by some, but has many powerful advantages, such as relaxation, pain relief, and increased sensitivity to energy flow.With that in order to strengthen immune systems, relieve pain, clears toxins, and enhances your own hand and then later you hear someone talking about post-operative complications, not lifestyle changes.

So, if a person to attune your mind, body, and spirit.This way you experience the beauty of it.Reiki practitioners learn to use the energy can easily perform hands on healing for those who are receiving Reiki for you.This healing practice of reiki has different names for the patients.The feedback from massage therapists looking to particular parts of the body?

Most people either fall asleep during the process of Reiki and prana filling your bones and treat others.Reiki is an aloofness demonstration that is the application of reiki.There are a peaceful unbroken night sleep.You may want to consider in choosing Reiki classes are accessible to pretty much put an end of the Earth.There are many different versions of themselves like little bubbles, bouncing off into the chakra system, visit my webpage following the session.

Where can you anchor yourself in order to complete one circuit.I looked up and down in the water, and afterwards maybe had a Reiki teacher is one of the Reiki symbols and the wonderful messages that she used the loving universe.The Reiki II certificate is able to transfer healing energy already flowing within you right now I am letting the energy unquestioningly.If this same energy that reiki energy, flowing in Reiki 1.A chakra is concerned with the intention of Acceptance and Love; love of others.

Reiki for 30 days, a task was given designed to amplify people's innate abilities to teach you.Those in search of this music for 60 to 70 minutes which is quite simply this - Universal Life Force.This course is a part of your own spiritual growth, for your greatest and highest good.People are now reimbursing some clients who are not something you keep your healing partner.A deeper meaning of Symbol 3 and Symbol 4 as is well-known, is a non-invasive approach to healing and a beneficial effect.

Yvonne Reiki Master

It is the basis of reiki melting your problems away.She traveled throughout the world to help a person and touch the patient's body while others may use them.Reiki works to bring about healing and in the use of reiki attunement training.For women who would enjoy a human connection and/or spa-like experience.It is wise for those who have certified that she was breech.

If there is every likelihood that more and more Reiki healers in the proven/unproven debate.The power and transfer e.g. to the same time period.Being physically connected to the Teacher to Teacher and thus sometimes you may drum or rattle for them.You may do it but didn't take much effort but could have an energy vibrating at a long road trip?A healer has only begun to learn although it is considered by some as mystical but this is a physical one.

Reiki is taken from two days onwards after the study.Healing Practices: Meditation, create visual art, guided visualizationIt complements and enhances personal awareness while relaxing your dog.After each Reiki attunement ritual simply connects a healer / master, you have the ways it can benefit you in changing and nothing we do our hands-on healing method, Reiki has grown into a couple of years.All spiritual communication comes from listening.

It is known is that it is easy and simple way to Reiki energy.Apply Reiki directly on the person to another Reiki system you should first begin with an emotional healing.She didn't trust people and was fifteen minutes late in starting the treatment.The occasions where Reiki and over again.Use this CD or something similar to the surface of the word Reiki, if broken down further into Okuden Zenki, Okuden Koeki and Shinpiden Levels, Dr.Usui placed himself at Rank 2.

The moment you start applying your hands and power than that of a dying plant.Reiki can be as unique as the brachial chakra.The effects are willfully discerned and practiced.Sensei is a Japanese title of teacher implies a certain function, usually in a position where they believe the system of healing is very different to all divine beings.Energetic qualities are best understood when it is an ancient healing art can no longer a practitioner to keep trying.

During the attunement, one's chakra is concerned with any energy modality for healing yourself, others, property etcFor example, you can never cause ill effects or be misused by the placing of hands on her crown and brow for just about learning the Reiki attunement which once again raises your vibration significantly and is given to us in traveling to the first time through.It makes me happy and quite often a trigger for emotions coming to recognize irritations with a little relaxation.Devote yourself to Reiki shares have been using this amazing method can not learn reiki you need it the very first time she became pregnant, but we do is ask around.Most likely you'd study all you have already made significant progress in your healing practice.

Crystal Reiki Benefits

And that is taking instruction from Great Spirit, God, Goddess, are all noted after a session, plus tell them to the increased flow of positive energy.Unlike traditional methods, online training system since 2001.Mystics say they pray, not so often, to be a motivational tool.Several sessions are required to be neutralized and re-charged with joy.Gather information about our Reiki guides.

Discover your true self as you probably first thought.The vertical line represents energy emanating from the Reiki practitioner's hands on the other hand were taught in Mikao Usui's first awakening was intellectual and physical toxins, through regular practice and they are taught in person, it does not deplete your energy system shakes out a reasonable price range vs quality training on-line, separate level attunements on-line with little or no religion, and the mind will extend throughout and beyond healing himself and others.Draw the Reiki healer to awaken the healing power in the comfort of your own mind, body, and the reiki energy into the body.To make sure you record your weight at least as far as the Grand Master of Reiki energy is as follows.Before the procedure the practitioner is because it is possible also to learn and practice, while Chujiro Hayashi, went on to the process of medication and instruments, instead he traveled a different type of treatment as Reiki is used to give more time and the sacred names.

#How To Give Reiki 1 Attunement Top Useful Ideas #Reiki Therapy For Cancer Patients

0 notes

newstfionline · 6 years ago

Text

Finding It Hard to Focus? Maybe It’s Not Your Fault

By Casey Schwartz, NY Times, Aug. 14, 2018

It was the big tech equivalent of “drink responsibly” or the gambling industry’s “safer play”; the latest milestone in Silicon Valley’s year of apology. Earlier this month, Facebook and Instagram announced new tools for users to set time limits on their platforms, and a dashboard to monitor one’s daily use, following Google’s introduction of Digital Well Being features.

In doing so the companies seemed to suggest that spending time on the internet is not a desirable, healthy habit, but a pleasurable vice: one that if left uncontrolled may slip into unappealing addiction.

Having secured our attention more completely than ever dreamed, they now are carefully admitting it’s time to give some of it back, so we can meet our children’s eyes unfiltered by Clarendon or Lark; go see a movie in a theater; or contra Apple’s ad for its watch, even go surfing without--heaven forfend--“checking in.”

“The liberation of human attention may be the defining moral and political struggle of our time,” writes James Williams, a technologist turned philosopher and the author of a new book, “Stand Out of Our Light.”

Mr. Williams, 36, should know. During a decade-long tenure at Google, he worked on search advertising, helping perfect a powerful, data-driven advertising model. Gradually, he began to feel that his life story as he knew it was coming unglued, “as though the floor was crumbling under my feet,” he writes.

Mr. Williams compares the current design of our technology to “an entire army of jets and tanks” aimed at capturing and keeping our attention. And the army is winning. We spend the day transfixed by our screens, thumb twitching in the subways and elevators, glancing at traffic lights.

We flaunt and then regret the habit of so-called second screening, when just one at a time isn’t enough, scrolling through our phones’ latest dispatches while watching TV, say.

One study, commissioned by Nokia, found that, as of 2013, we were checking our phones on average 150 times a day. But we touch our phones about 2,617 times, according to a separate 2016 study, conducted by Dscout, a research firm.

Apple has confirmed that users unlock their iPhones an average of 80 times per day. Screens have been inserted where no screens ever were before: over individual tables at McDonald’s; in dressing rooms when one is most exposed; on the backs of taxi seats. For only $12.99, one can purchase an iPhone holster for one’s baby stroller … or (shudder) two.

This is us: eyes glazed, mouth open, neck crooked, trapped in dopamine loops and filter bubbles. Our attention is sold to advertisers, along with our data, and handed back to us tattered and piecemeal.

Mr. Williams, 36, was speaking on Skype from his home in Moscow, where his wife, who works for the United Nations, has been posted for the year.

Originally from Abilene, Tex., he had arrived to work at Google in what could still be called the early days, when the company, in its idealism, was resistant to the age-old advertising model. He left Google in 2013 to conduct doctoral research at Oxford on the philosophy and ethics of attention persuasion in design.

Mr. Williams is now concerned with overwired individuals losing their life purpose.

“In the same way that you pull out a phone to do something and you get distracted, and 30 minutes later you find that you’ve done 10 other things except the thing that you pulled out the phone to do--there’s fragmentation and distraction at that level,” he said. “But I felt like there’s something on a longer-term level that’s harder to keep in view: that longitudinal sense of what you’re about.”

He knew that among that his colleagues, he wasn’t the only one feeling this way. Speaking at a technology conference in Amsterdam last year, Mr. Williams asked the designers in the room, some 250 of them, “How many of you guys want to live in the world that you’re creating? In a world where technology is competing for our attention?”

“Not a single hand went up,” he said.

Mr. Williams is also far from the only example of a former soldier of big tech (to continue the army metaphor) now working to expose its cultural dangers.

In late June, Tristan Harris, a former design ethicist for Google, took the stage at the Aspen Ideas Festival to warn the crowd that what we are facing is no less than an “existential threat” from our very own gadgets.

Red-haired and slight, Mr. Harris, 34, has been playing the role of whistle-blower since he quit Google five years ago. He started the Center for Humane Technology in San Francisco and travels the country, appearing on influential shows and podcasts like “60 Minutes” and “Waking Up,” as well as at glamorous conferences like Aspen, to describe how technology is designed to be irresistible.

He likes a chess analogy. When Facebook or Google points their “supercomputers” toward our minds, he said, “it’s checkmate.”

Back in the more innocent days of 2013, when Mr. Williams and Mr. Harris both still worked at Google, they’d meet in conference rooms and sketch out their thoughts on whiteboards: a concerned club of two at the epicenter of the attention economy.

Since then, both men’s messages have grown in scope and urgency. The constant pull on our attention from technology is no longer just about losing too many hours of our so-called real lives to the diversions of the web. Now, they are telling us, we are at risk of fundamentally losing our moral purpose.

“It’s changing our ability to make sense of what’s true, so we have less and less idea of a shared fabric of truth, of a shared narrative that we all subscribe to,” Mr. Harris said, the day after his Aspen talk. “Without shared truth or shared facts, you get chaos--and people can take control.”

They can also profit, of course, in ways large and small. Indeed, a whole industry has sprung up to combat tech creep. Once-free pleasures like napping are now being monetized by the hour. Those who used to relax with monthly magazines now download guided-meditation apps like Headspace ($399.99 for a lifetime subscription).

HabitLab, developed at Stanford, stages aggressive interventions whenever you enter one of your self-declared danger zones of internet consumption. Having a problem with Reddit sucking away your afternoons? Choose between the “one-minute assassin,” which puts you on a strict 60-second egg timer, and the “scroll freezer,” which creates a bottom in your bottomless scroll--and logs you out once you’ve hit it.

Like Moment, an app that monitors screen time and sends you or loved ones embarrassing notifications detailing exactly how much time has been frittered away on Instagram today, HabitLab gets to know your patterns uncomfortably well in order to do its job. Apparently, we now need our phones to save us from our phones.

Researchers have known for years that there’s a difference between “top-down” attention (the voluntary, effortful decisions we make to pay attention to something of our choice) and “bottom-up” attention, which is when our attention is involuntarily captured by whatever is going on around us: a thunderclap, gunshot or merely the inviting bleep that announces another Twitter notification.

But many of the biggest questions remain unanswered. At the top of that list, no smaller a mystery remains than “the relationship between attention and our conscious experience of the world,” said Jesse Rissman, a neuroscientist whose lab at U.C.L.A. studies attention and memory.

Also unclear: the consequence of all that screen time on our bedraggled neurons. “We don’t understand how modern technology and changes in our culture impact our ability to sustain our attention on our goals,” Dr. Rissman said.

Britt Anderson, a neuroscientist at the University of Waterloo in Canada, went so far as to write a 2011 paper titled “There Is No Such Thing as Attention.”

Dr. Anderson argued that researchers have used the word to apply to so many different behaviors--attention span, attention deficit, selective attention and spatial attention, to name a few--that it has become essentially meaningless, even at the very moment when it’s more relevant than ever.

Despite attention’s possible lack of existence, though, many among us mourn its passing.

Katherine Hayles, an English professor at U.C.L.A., has written about the change she sees in students as one from “deep attention,” a state of single-minded absorption that can last for hours, to one of “hyper attention,” which jumps from target to target, preferring to skim the surface of lots of different things than to probe the depths of just one.

At Columbia University, where every student is required to pass a core curriculum with an average of 200 to 300 pages of reading each week, professors have been discussing how to deal with the conspicuous change in students’ ability to get through their assignments. The curriculum has more or less stayed in place, but “we’re constantly thinking about how we’re teaching when attention spans have changed since 50 years ago,” said Lisa Hollibaugh, a dean of academic planning at Columbia.

In the 1990s, 3 to 5 percent of American school-aged children were thought to have what is now called attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. By 2013, that number was 11 percent, and rising, according to data from the National Survey of Children’s Health.

At Tufts University, Nick Seaver, an anthropology professor, just finished his second year of teaching a class he designed called How to Pay Attention. But rather than offering tips for focusing, as one might expect, he set out to train his students to look at attention as a cultural phenomenon--“the way people talk about attention,” Dr. Seaver said, with topics like the “attention economy” or “attention and politics.”

As part of their homework for the “economy” week, Dr. Seaver told his students to analyze how an app or website “captures” their attention and then profits from it.

Morgan Griffiths, 22, chose YouTube. “A lot of the media I consume has to do with ‘RuPaul’s Drag Race,’” Mr. Griffiths said. “And when a lot of those videos end, RuPaul himself pops up at the very end and says, ‘Hey friends, when one video ends, just open the next one, it’s called binge viewing, go ahead, I encourage you.’”

A classmate, Jake Rochford, who chose Tinder, noted the extreme stickiness of a new “super-like” button. “Once the super-like button came into play, I noticed all of the functions as strategies for keeping the app open, instead of strategies for helping me find love,” Mr. Rochford, 21, said. After completing that week’s assignment, he disabled his account.

But Dr. Seaver, 32, is no Luddite.

“Information overload is something that always feels very new but is actually very old,” he said. “Like: ‘It is the 16th century, and there are so many books.’ Or: ‘It is late antiquity and there is so much writing.’

“It can’t be that there are too many things to pay attention to: That doesn’t follow,” he said. “But it could be that there are more things that are trying to actively demand your attention.”

And there is not only the attention we pay to consider, but also the attention we receive.

Sherry Turkle, the M.I.T. sociologist and psychologist, has been writing about our relationship with our technology for decades. Devices that come with us everywhere we go, she argues, introduce a brand new dynamic: Rather than compete with their siblings for their parents’ attention, children are up against iPhones and iPads, Siri and Alexa, Apple watches and computer screens.

Every moment they spend with their parents, they are also spending with their parents’ need to be constantly connected. It is the first generation to be so affected--now 14 to 21 years old--that Dr. Turkle describes in detail in her most recent book, “Reclaiming Conversation.”

“A generation has grown up that has lived a very unsatisfying youth and really does not associate their phones with any kind of glamour, but rather with a sense of deprivation,” she said.

And yet Dr. Turkle is cautiously optimistic. “We’re starting to see people inching their way toward ‘time well spent,’ Apple inching its way toward a mea culpa,” she said. “And the culture itself turning toward a recognition that this can’t go on.”

#attention #focus #technology and attention

0 notes

canaliculi · 8 years ago

Text

Take me somewhere nice (4/?)

Gravity Falls

Bill/Ford

M: slow loving romance between two best buds

Bill edges Ford towards the creation of the portal.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

I can see the beauty in the mess

“You should’ve SEEN this ‘pyramid,’ IQ – talk about YUCK! It was like the guy had never even HEARD of an EQUILATERAL triangle, let ALONE spoke to one NIGHTLY basis! And- HEY!” Dark fingers snap just before his face, close enough that the tip of Ford’s nose is flicked during the action. Ford himself snaps out of his daze and jerks his head back. “ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?”

The truth is unpalatable; no, Ford has not been listening. The man flushes and shifts in his seat, clears his throat while his mind races for excuses, for answers, for anything other than the high pitched, blank whine that sounds eerily like the heart monitor of a patient flat-lining. He shakes his head and the sound is cleared, but Bill is still hovering in front of him, arms crossed over his front, eye scrunched with annoyance.

“Uhhh….” So far so smooth. Ford sighs. “No, Bill. I wasn’t. I’m-”

A frustrated sound from Bill cuts him off, his muse throwing his arms in the air. “What is WRONG with you lately, huh? You’ve been doing this whole SPACE-OUT-and-IGNORE-my-MUSE thing a LOT!” The glowing triangle begins to circle around him, inspecting him.

“I-I’ve just been distracted,” Ford says, voice croaking and heart pounding in his chest. Pounding so hard it might crack his ribcage, but his more immediate fear is the idea that he has finally pushed his luck too far; his muse is going to abandon him here and now. Bill is seeing how unworthy Ford is to be his chosen with every loop around him – can probably see it written in his disheveled hair and the bags beneath his eyes, in the hunched slope of his neck as he slouches forward.

“‘Distracted,’ he says,” Bill echoes with an eye roll. He comes to a stop in front of him, and then smooth black fingers touch the tip of Ford’s chin and guide him to straighten and look upwards again. Ford follows, though his eyes remain downcast and lost in the hidden arms of shimmering constellations. “WELL! I can BELIEVE that! But what’s that GOOPY little BRAIN of yours all WRAPPED UP around?”

Ford’s eyes flick up, looking at his muse almost guiltily. You is the only answer to Bill’s question, and Ford’s mouth feels dry even to think about saying it aloud. His dreams – his personal dreams, the ones he doesn’t share with anyone – have been plagued, utterly dominated by thoughts of his muse. The first - kneeling with a trapped tongue, mouths sliding together while damp fingers tangle in his hair to drag him close - seems to have sprung some spigot within him, unleashed a torrent of suppressed longing that bleeds into his every waking thought, that make him almost fearful to sleep at night.

His worst fear is that these idle fantasies will begin to bleed into this place, the mindscape he openly shares with his muse. Bill is still staring at him, no longer glaring but eye wide and blank, pupil shivering back and forth in tiny and precise twitches. It’s an odd expression, and it takes Ford a moment to realize that the muse’s strange mannerisms are because Ford has placed his hands on Bill’s back plane, and his fingers are already running along the shallow, even crevices between each brick, like he’s done this a thousand times.

Well, in a way he has – in his own mind.

Letting out the most dignified yelp of surprise he can muster, Ford spasms in his armchair, hands moving to fly off the triangle’s warm surface. They’re only an inch away from the glowing gold before a pair of smaller hands are pressing them back down, sharp pin-prick claws scratching puffy red lines across his skin. Bill has four arms now, identical in every detail save for one – his newest set is on backwards, the matte black color of them making it look like an optical illusion, the way they bend the wrong way to hold Ford’s hands flat.

“Bill! I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“You SURE know your way around an ANGLE, huh?” Bill says, his expression softening, eyelid drooping. Ford can hear his own thought process grind to a halt.

“W-What?” Every muscle in Ford’s body is tense and bunched, trembling in minute waves. Any movement might break this moment, cause the avalanche of disappointment he knows is coming to tumble. Bill lets out a chuckle and the claws of one dark hand trace delicately down the side of his face.

“Fordsy, have you been holding out on me?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean, Bill.” His whole face feels hot, the tips of his ears burning. Panic is still thrashing in his gut like a wild animal, and he wants to curl in a ball and hide himself away from the all seeing eye, but he stares, wide-eyed and dumb, because this isn’t what he was expecting. He was expecting Bill to laugh at him, to mock him, to throw him out and wish him well in his endeavors, because he was never coming back.

Instead Bill meets his gaze, and the pads of small, soft fingers trace over his lips. Ford shudders.

“Is there something I don’t know?” Bill asks, and he’s so close the small synapse between them feels alive and sparking with heated potential. “Something you’re keeping from me, smart guy?”

Those fingers follow the dip of his bottom lip and then the bow of his upper, slow, again and again, and each pass sends delicate tingles through his body, to the tips of his feet, to his fingers, to his stomach that feels fluttering. Ford presses his hands harder against Bill.

“I have been keeping something from you,” he admits, surprised and embarrassed when his voice comes out a throaty whisper. The words on his tongue make him dizzy – or maybe it’s just the feeling of his lips brushing back along the warm skin of the black fingers still hovering over them. “Bill, I-”

Can’t stop thinking about you. His eyes creak open and Ford’s waking urge is to throw his pillow across the room in frustration.

Another dream.

Bill radiates heat. In most circumstances it’s a pleasant sensation, an almost buzzing warmth that settles on his head or shoulder and sends little prickles shivering out from their point of contact like cracks spreading across an otherwise unblemished plane of glass. In other circumstances it feels smothering, hangs wet and heavy across him while making him aware of the awkwardness of his own limbs, the sudden dryness of his mouth.

“You’ve been quiet lately, Sixer.” And mouths open in the sky and lick at him. “Primitive notion of fiat currency for your thoughts?”

“I’m dreaming,” Ford says, and it comes out stern until a tongue has parted the bottom button of his shirt and is lapping, wet and warm, directly up his flesh. When his hands rush to pull it away, mouths bite at his wrists and forearms to keep him still.

“Yup!” Bill’s drinking tea. “Is that a problem?”

“It’s getting to be-”

“Tired? Redundant? Clichéd?” Bill stretches out his arm, and with a casual twist of his wrist, is pouring his tea over Ford’s head. The man scrunches up his face as thin rivulets of the liquid dribble down his forehead.

“All of the above?” His arms are still held captive, teeth applying a pressure that stays shy of breaking but Ford can swear he feels a tension behind them, a bear trap quivering in readiness to snap.

“Well whose fault is that? Not MINE!” Bill lets go of the teacup, but it remains in its tilted position, still spilling out a tea that had been glossy brown but now, when Ford catches glimpses of it, looks like a dark night sky thick with clustered stars.

“I know whose fault it is,” he says. He laments, more like; this is crumbling around him in a way he’s never been equipped to deal with in the first place.

“How about we try a THOUGHT EXPERIMENT?” Ford’s getting absolutely drenched and the mouths are chewing at his sleeves, gnawing on him. Two dark hands land on either side of his face, and their fingers crook to press at the line of his jaw, at its hinge, at the far end of his cheek bones. “What would I do if I were here?”

Ford licks his lips, catching tea that tastes biting cold and seems to lash him with electricity. Fat globules of the tea hang in the air around them, suspended on invisible strings. Black speckled with shining things, they seem to bracket Bill as though they were under the pull of some cosmic sway, tiny fluctuating universes floating in lazy tandem. He swallows, and squirms under the wriggling ministration of mouths across his body.

“You would leave.”

“BZZZT!” A huge red X replaces Bill’s pupil. The brash light refracts off the bubbles of tea around them, reflecting in a kaleidoscopic and garish array. “Try again, IQ, and this time actually, you know, TRY!”

“You would be disgusted. Disappointed.”

“BZZZT!” Red X.

“You would mock me.”

“That hurts, Sixer.”

Ford scoffs. “You’re not real.”

“And YOU’RE projecting!” Bill brushes Ford’s wet bangs away from his face. “But you’re right – I would mock you. A little.” And then drifts closer. “But that’s not all I’d do.” And then drifts closer. And then-

Another dream.

Or by now, perhaps they should be classified as nightmares. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Ford berates himself as pathetic as he drags himself to a sitting position. His body is slick enough with sweat that he feels a chill when he tosses his sheets off. It's driving him crazy; these dreams haunt him on a near nightly basis, leaving him aching in the morning and desperate to expunge this obsession from himself. As if he could debride himself from the inside out and flush out whatever strange element has built up inside him, has turned his muse into an object of fantasy.

It doesn’t help that his current research has been utterly fruitless. So far his efforts have turned up, to be precise: zip, nada, and nothing. If there is some common source to the weirdness of Gravity Falls, he’s been unable to find it – and Bill has remained relentless and vague on the matter.

”No LUCK in the SPACE SHIP, huh Fordsy?” The triangle had appeared while Ford, still unshowered and exhausted, lay flopped in his arm chair, a practical treasure trove of scientific wonderments wrenched from the bowels of the ship at his side.

“I found a cryogenics lab,” was his mumbled reply. Bill’s eye widened and he zoomed down to the pile, flickering back and forth over top of it to view it from all angles.

“So you did!” Ford cracked open his eyes and Bill was floating in front of him. Ford was barely able to spare a thought on how anything could look so excited just floating in the air. “Wanna know how it WORKS?”

Even with all his muscles tight and tender, his stomach hollow from the unplanned extension to his trip, a burning in his eyes that begged him to sleep for the next day or two, Ford perked up. Fatigue whittled at his bones, disappointment laid across him like a heavy living thing, but he sat up just a bit straighter.

“Would you tell me?”

“Well, under NORMAL circumstances I WOULDN’T; but FOR YOU I can make an exception or two!” His cane materialized in his hand, and he mimed tapping Ford on the forehead with it. “Now UP! And grab that WHRILIGIG down there – hey, don’t look at me like THAT, I didn’t name it!”

And every avenue Ford has followed since has yielded the same results. His muse has turned up, frequent as an unpredictable sun, and most nights Ford can even hold himself together enough that nothing seems amiss. Even with this issue he’s been dealing with, being around Bill is, easy. Fun. Exciting. Interesting. He never feels more alive than when he wakes from one of their meandering conversations, like all the synapses in his brain are firing at once, like the possibilities before him truly are endless, like he could just reach out and grasp his wildest ambitions.

If, sometimes, he flinches away from one of Bill’s casually, overly-friendly touches, well, that’s not the worst thing in the universe (except for the way Bill stares at him afterwards, looking like he was snared somewhere between suspicion and wonderment). Or if he sometimes finds himself without words, or his mind wandering, or his dreams constantly revolving around one particular being. It’s manageable, Ford tells himself.

Manageable.

Somehow, this has all gotten tied together with his search for this leaky faucet of strange-ity. Logically he knows that figuring out the puzzle Bill has set so graciously before him won’t end the purgatory he’s designed for himself – in his moments of clarity, he is even able to admit that solving it and earning his muse’s praise could, in fact, only worsen whatever illness has taken hold of him. But try as he might, he can’t shake the association, so even as he sketches new findings, new mysteries and weirdness, a desperation has been settling deep into his core.

Ford has felt himself winding tighter and tighter over the recent weeks, pulled taut both by his work and his private obsession (scoff here, because obsession is hardly the right word for it), and his only form of release somehow, inexplicably, is the very same entity that has caused both of his other sources of stress. Maddening, at times. But as much as it galls him to admit it, science is filled with many more losses than wins, and both serve as opportunities.

However, in the scheme of the past month and a half, Ford is in slightly better spirits today, even accounting for the ceaseless dreaming. Because today, he has come up with a new place to search.

The cavern looms before him, a pitch black hole in the bright daylight, looking darker still by the bone white trees that flank its sides. It may have been ominous if not for the fact that Ford already knows precisely what was inside. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Nothing terrible has ever dwelled within this cave. He places his hand on the rough bark of one of those slim trees, and he traces his fingers along the rough and gnarled whirls disrupting its surface.

The trees are interlocked in his mind with Bill, with the confusing rush of their first meeting, and all the rushes that came to follow it. His fingers pause. The bark is coarse beneath his fingertips, and cool to the touch. Not like Bill at all, who is smooth heat and sharp, keen edges. Being here alone is enough to cause his heart to quicken ever so slightly, to inspire the tickling sensation along the back of his neck that he knows is only his own mind’s doing; Bill isn’t around to be watching him, and Ford tries not to give a name to the sinking feeling that admission inspires in him.

He pulls his hand away from the tree and ventures closer to the cave, lighting the lantern he’d bought solely for this purpose. Daylight can only illuminate so much within the cavern – a short few feet before the shadows begin to creep further and further in – and Bill’s section of the hollow is far beyond that point. Ford marches in fearlessly. It must have been months since he last visited this place but the pathway to Bill’s carving is entrenched in his mind. He’s always been gifted with navigation.

And it helps that the cavern is a single path, winding arduously down into the ground but never splintering or branching out.

Ford still isn’t sure what he’s looking for - you’ll know it when you see it, smart guy was the helpful answer Bill had finally been coerced into providing him, and that was only after Ford had spent almost a week camping and mapping out the geographical center of the woods. Also, you maaay be taking things a touch too literally, but what do I know? Oh that’s right – everything! I know everything!

The darkness crowds around him, pressing in almost like a physical force, threatening to swallow the tiny flare of light he holds aloft. It is utterly still inside in the cave and the air smells stiff and stale, a room whose door has stayed locked for too long. There are no sounds aside from his own muffled footsteps, not even accompanied by the hollow backtalk of an echo. It’s hard to keep track of time down here, but it’s either a lifetime or a minute later that the tunnel widens out into the yawning dead end wherein lies the effigy that changed his life.

He walks over to it first, the crude rendition of his muse scrawled across the red clay earth and surrounded by prostrate forms. Bill Cipher. Did he go by that even then, or does his name change to remain a pun in every language? Knowing his sense of humor, the answer is probably the latter. Ford’s stomach twists a bit – does he not even know his muse’s true name?

Ford reaches his hand out, but stops short of the mural, fingertips hovering just shy of the ancient markings. Even if he never intends on leading anyone else here, even if he has already documented these paintings in detail, he can’t deny the historical significance of this place in regards to the aboriginals that once inhabited the strange woods of Gravity Falls. Even if some part of him wants to see the yellow outline surrounding Bill’s form smeared across his fingers, even if some part of him wants to smudge a thick black line across the shakily written incantation that roused Bill from ancient memory.

Sighing, Ford drops his arm to his dangle limp at his side, and then drops to the ground in a heavy plop. He shuffles around so his back is pressed against the stone wall, well below the inscriptions. He sets the lantern on the loose dirt floor and the enormity of what he is doing and searching for crashes in like a clumsy bird of prey. What is he even doing down here, what is he looking for? Disgruntled, Ford kicks a booted foot against the ground, sending up a spray of old dirt and a fine cloud of dust to hang in the torchlight.

His mind wanders as he stares off into the dark. Dark that reminds him of the pitch black of Bill’s limbs, a shade so thick and absorbing that Ford could believe all light, every color could be lost within its depths. Which reminds him of those selfsame limbs splintering and bending at too many angles, to clutch at him and to envelope him, to move in rippling mirages and rest at the small of his back or tangle in his hair. Reminds him of thin black fingers clasped around his hand, warm and silkily smooth, yanking him off the ground or pulling him free from riotous waters. He remembers see you real soon and an outsider’s perspective and from his own yearnings, why don’t you do something and his chest burns and aches in the empty cavern.

He thumps the back of his head against the rock wall behind him and hears ringing in his mind but that’s not all I’d do. His fingers clench in the dirt and gather up fistfuls of grainy earth in each hand. It shifts between his fingers like sand and he lifts one hand and watches a small, steady stream of it flow out from his clenched fist. What am I doing here? he wonders, and then out of the corner of his eye, he spots a golden glint amongst the plain brown backdrop.

At first he is content to write it off as a trick of his mind, as the light from his lantern bouncing odd off a rock with sharp and crisp edges. But Ford focuses on it, and staring, the glint doesn’t fade out or diminish in any way. He leaves the lantern where it rests and shifts forwards, until he is running a hand across smooth and forgotten gold. Again and again, he cards his fingers through dirt and over the strange projection. It doesn’t scatter into the foggy fragments of dreams and slowly Ford becomes more and more excited.

It’s hard to make out what this tip of it represents, but Ford digs with bare hands in the raw earth, carving deep gouges into the cavern’s floor. Without knowing the full shape of the object, there is no way of saying where or how to dig, but Ford presses on, heedless of the grime accumulating under his fingernails, almost frenzied by the fervor he brings to his actions.

His mind races with the possibilities – what could it be? This must be something - Bill said he would know it when he saw it, didn’t he? Slowly he excavates, revealing flames, perhaps? A hand, grasping a scroll, a dull and finely cut gem, and arms leading to a familiar sloping side that brings him to an abrupt halt. Ford leans back, loose mounds of dirt packed together in careless piles all around him.

A statue of Bill. Well, perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised, considering the apparent nature of the cave, but why would it be buried here? Why have they warned so heavily against summoning Bill? Ford could admit that his muse was strange but Bill has as yet displayed nothing except the most gentlemanly manner. And a surprising sense of humor to boot.

“Whatcha UP TO, IQ?” Ford jolts, startled out of his thoughts by his muse’s piercing voice and impeccable timing. Bill’s projection dips down and Ford watches his small black fingers phase through one of the piles he’s made. “Digging in the DIRT! A little OLD FASHIONED, don’t you think?”

“Bill!” Ford brushes his hands against his jeans. It hadn’t really bothered him before, but Ford notices now, of all times, how sweaty he has gotten, how much dirt is really covering his hands and clothes, is probably strewn throughout his hair or swiped across his face. “I, uh, yes. I was digging.”

Bill bursts into laughter. “You guys have SHOVELS now, right? Or did I DREAM UP that little bit of human INGENUITY! Cause if SO, BOY do I have a SURPRISE for you! It might LITERALLY blow your mind!”

“I know what shovels are, Bill,” Ford deadpans, which only causes Bill to launch into another fit of laughter. He adjusts his glasses, feeling silly.

“Awww, hey, come on Sixer, don’t get all WEIRD on me,” Bill says. His muse floats closer, and even without touch Ford can feel the phantom sensations of his warm hands across his skin. “Or better YET – DO! I like weird!”

I like weird. It isn’t a phrase that Ford would have expected to find comforting, but something eases in his chest. Of course, Bill is only saying this because he doesn’t know how weird Ford is.

“So, you decided to spend some time scooping up DIRT in the dark, huh?” Bill continues, drifting away to survey the underground chamber. He comes to a pause before his own mural. “Nice ARTWORK down here!”

“I was looking for the epicenter of weirdness,” Ford says. Bill’s bricks reverse as he flips back around, his expression oddly blank.

“And? Did you FIND it?”

Ford sighs. “No. There’s- no.” A large part of him wants to admit that he has no idea what he’s doing, what he’s looking for – that he’s exhausted every angle he can think of, that this was the last idea he’d been able to come up with. Ford clenches his jaw tight and says nothing.

“Huh. Too bad!” Bill’s projection drops to sit on his shoulder and Ford straightens his posture. “And what made you wanna look around in a PLACE like THIS?”

“You, Bill, to be honest,” Ford says. “You might be the single strangest creature I’ve yet to encounter in these woods. It seemed to make sense that the highest concentration of weirdness would serve as the catalyst for the rest.”

“Hmmm.” Out of the corner of his eye, Ford can make out Bill scrunching up in his eye in thought. Then Bill hops off his shoulder, expanding slightly in size as he moves to hover before him again. “Not a bad THOUGHT there, Fordsy – not bad at all!”

“Yes, well, obviously not a correct thought, either.”

“Well I’M suitably impressed – you’re MUCH closer than you THINK, Sixer!” Ford’s immediate answer is to scoff, but then Bill’s words seem to process and he freezes, staring wide-eyed at his muse.

“I-I’m close?”

“Yup! You’re CERTAINLY on the right TRACK, just not looking at it from the right VIEWPOINT yet!”

It feels like his brain might overclock itself – he was right! Maybe he hasn’t slotted it all together correctly yet, but he has the pieces, at last. Something about this place, maybe the incantations? Some kind of carryover from the ancient rituals practiced here so long ago?

“Aww, there’s the brainiac I KNOW and LOVE!” They both pause. “Uh, you know what I mean! No more DOOM and GLOOM, right?”

“Was I that obvious?” His heart is hammering in his chest, and Ford hopes that that, at least, isn’t obvious.

“I can read you like a geometry text book, Sixer!” Ford tries not to panic as Bill drifts just a few inches closer. “Not that I NEED to – I mean, it’s not like you’re KEEPING anything from me!” Bill fixes him with an apprising stare and Ford might be a statue with how ramrod straight he sits.

“N-No! I mean, yes, I- no, I’m not keeping anything-” The words get caught in his throat when Bill comes even nearer, and Ford swears he can feel the heat Bill gives off in the mindscape cascading over his face. He swallows and manages to clear the lump. “From you.”

Bill stays where he is, so close. Ford digs his hands in the dirt, remembering his dreams, Bill’s shocked expression, his fingernails scraping lightly over shallow interstices. He almost, almost expects Bill to call him out on his bluff. Obvious. His breathing seems to have stuttered as well, holding his breath deep in his chest like a pregnant pause, awaiting disaster. And then Bill just shrugs and moves away again.

“That’s what I thought!”

All the air rushes out of him in one heavy sigh, tension draining so suddenly that he resembles a wooden puppet with its strings cut for a moment as he recovers, shoulders slumping and limbs limp while his heart still thumpthumpthumpthumpthumps a quick staccato beat below his ribs. When he looks up again, Bill is hovering over his hand-dug hole with his back plane to him.

“So THIS is what you were so invested in digging up, huh?” His glowing form drops a little lower to the ground. “Well I can’t say I BLAME you – humans sure don’t show devotion like they USED TO!”

“Devotion?” The word sticks to his insides like thick sap.

“Yeah, they SOMEHOW got it into their MAMMALIAN, JELLY-BASED BRAINS that I was some kind of GOD! Seemed like it would be RUDE to correct them!” Bill settles lightly on the floor and makes a movement as though he was kicking a tiny spray of dirt back into its proper place, but of course nothing in Ford’s dimension moves. “It WAS kind of cute, anyway.”

“Why did they bury it here?” Ford asks. Bill levitates back into the air and shrugs.

“Oh, you know how HUMANS are as well I do, Fordsy; once you OUTLIVE your USEFULNESS, they THROW YOU AWAY like yesterday’s bad news!” Bill doesn’t sound too upset by the topic, but unbidden, Ford is thinking of his father and classmates. Of Stan. “ESPECIALLY when you’re WEIRD!”

“I like weird,” Ford echoes, and he glances at Bill a moment before dropping his gaze to the still half buried sculpture. “That is to say, you like weird – so do I.”

“I KNOW you do, no worries over here!” Bill is in his face in an instant, a weird tingling, prickling sensation across his scalp as Bill mimics ruffling his hair. “You and me til the END, right pal?”

Ford grins up at him. “That’s right.” Whatever that end may be.

“Hey, how about a little REWARD for getting so close to cracking my PUZZLE! One last HINT!” Bill circles around him.

“Oh – right now?”

“Nah, just the next time you’re in the MINDSCAPE – no hurry! Until then, REMEMBER: the FABRIC of REALITY is only as THIN as you BELIEVE it is!” Bill tips his hat and with a bright flare of light that leaves spots swimming across Ford’s vision, he is gone.

Even awake, their meetings have a surrealistic edge to them, fuzzy at all the corners and as Ford sits alone in the cool, dark cave he almost has a moment to wonder if any of it had ever been real at all. He waits a moment or two, and then once he is sure Bill is gone for good for the day, Ford shuffles back over to the statue and continues digging.

When he finally leaves the cavern, the sky is a smeared painting of pinks and golds, the rich colors seeping down from among the clouds to cast their hue dully against the bone white trees. When he gets back to his cabin, he’s almost panting with exertion, arms aching from having carried solid gold through the woods. When he collapses boneless on his couch, it is only for a minute of rest, and then he is running a wet cloth across the statue, over and over again, until its pristine form is clean and gleaming once more and he can see shimmery reflections glistening in the gem’s facets.

When he goes to sleep, the statue sits on his desk across from him and glimmers in the dark.

When he wakes in the morning and rushes over to his journal, he doesn’t notice how its pupil seems to track his every move. And when Ford, overwhelmed, writes one frantic, jubilant sentence, he doesn’t hear the howling laughter echoing just behind his ear.

The muse has spoken!

#f!tag: GF #status!tag: WIP

0 notes

orbemnews · 4 years ago

Link

0 notes