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incorrectnessduskwood · 3 years ago

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A/N: Alright, here it is! Part two of the story I posted here (I guess I should come up with a title for it, huh?) There a few hundred words less than the other one but I liked the way it ended and I decided to go with it. I still have ideas to keep it going so let me know if you're interested in it. Hope y'all enjoy it!

Pairing: Jake x MC

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: spoilers for ep. 8 (still), a little jealous!Jake, and you can see some of my own theories there but nothing much

Falling asleep was never something that came easily to Jake; the constant fear and anxiety of being found were always in his head and every little noise outside of his room would startle him awake, no matter how long he had been sleeping. Even when things were relatively safe and he knew there wasn’t anyone after him, sleeping was something Jake rarely did. He would sleep as little as humanly possible and usually only when he couldn’t bear to be awake any longer.

So it was a pleasant surprise when he quickly fell asleep by MC’s side. She had asked him to lay with her so she wouldn’t be alone because she was afraid of having more nightmares and Jake could never deny MC anything if there was the possibility of saying yes. They laid side by side, MC resting her head on his arm, her own over his waist, one leg between his, and her face mostly hidden in his chest. Jake had threaded his fingers through her hair, heard her sigh and relax against him, and she was asleep within minutes. She looked like the most gorgeous person he had ever seen and he was more than content in watching her throughout the night, to just keep her safe.

Still, Jake’s eyelids got heavy half an hour in, his hand tiring and resting on MC’s shoulder just before he finally gave in and let himself fall asleep, not wanting to fight to stay awake one more night.

When he woke up, it was to the smell of coffee and food, two things Jake wasn’t used to. His heart beat fastly as he sat up, looking around the room with wide eyes until he spotted MC sitting on the table with a mug in her hands and her tablet in front of her, and he remembered her showing up there the last night. She only raised one questioning brow, taking a sip from her mug as Jake finally breathed out, allowing himself to relax, and laid back on the bed. He heard MC chuckle and he only waved her off, closing his eyes and placing his arm over them. The bed was soft and still warm and Jake wouldn’t say no to getting some more sleep, even if he felt more rested than he had ever felt in years; he also wanted to bask in the feeling of being relaxed for a while longer.

A few minutes had passed when he felt the bed weigh down by his side and Jake felt MC’s hand in his hair, so he moved his face until her hand cupped his cheek. He took his arm off his face to look at her, smiling when he noticed the soft blush that covered her cheeks and placing one of his hands on her knees, running his fingers in random patterns.

Neither of them said anything for a while and Jake was more than content to just watch her, to memorize the soft lines of her face, the way her hair fell over her eyes, making them slightly darker but all the more beautiful. Her presence still didn’t feel real and Jake was afraid of it all being a dream—even if he wasn’t creative enough to come up with all of that—so he would take all the chances of having the reassurance that she was indeed there, he would take all the touches she deemed him worthy of having, he would enjoy all the looks she would spare him; anything that would allow him to have her as close as possible. He’d be happy to just look at her from across the room, to just know she was there with him and that she was real and safe and—

“Jake?” MC’s voice broke through his concentration and he blinked a few times to focus on her face again, finding a smirk on her lips.

“I’m sorry, MC. You were saying?”

“I just asked if you were hungry,” she answered through chuckles. “I made breakfast with some of the stuff you had in the fridge. I’d guess you’re just as hungry as I was when I woke up.”

Jake smiled, nodding before sitting up again. “Starving, actually. Do I smell coffee, too?”

“Of course you do. What do you think I am, a savage?” she pointed at the coffee pot on the table she was sitting at. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take your coffee and I didn’t try and guess it either.”

MC stood up and offered him one of her hands. Jake took it and let himself be pulled up by her, finding it all the better when she didn’t let go of his hand and walked with him to the table. She sat at the chair she was before, grabbing her mug once again. Jake poured himself some coffee on another mug and slowly sipped it as he watched MC read something on her tablet, her brows furrowing as she went along whatever text she had open. She would sometimes write something on the piece of paper she had by her side, then she would stare at it as she tapped her pen on the table, her lips moving as she reread some sentence or tried to make sense of something.

Jake realized he could stare at her all day, just watch as she did nothing out of the ordinary but still looked like the most amazing person in the whole world. That was until his stomach growled and he realized he actually needed to eat something and that he should get back to work. MC smiled at him when he raised from the table and walked to the kitchen. She had managed to put together some eggs with what seemed melted cheese and tomatoes, and Jake would be lying if he said it didn’t smell amazing. He took the whole pan and a fork with him before walking to his computer and turning it on.

There were a bunch of notifications from the group chat, mostly everyone keeping each other up to speed about how they were doing and that they were okay. MC had answered for both of them without actually saying they were together, but it seemed to be good enough for the rest of the group; she never ceased to amaze him with how well she dealt with people and how quickly and strongly she had managed to earn the trust from the group. Not that it should surprise him so much when he was also between the ones that had started to trust her so easily.

He hadn’t gotten any notifications about his persecutors nor any news about the police. Apparently, they were still investigating Hanson’s house and trying to find anything because, unsurprisingly, everything was gone by the time the police had gotten there. Good thing Jessica thought of taking pictures of everything so they could at least have some kind of proof; Jake wouldn’t be surprised if the police tried to turn it around and blame it all on the group. He opened Thomas’s videocall to try and see if anything stood out, if he could better the image of the kidnapper’s physique or face or anything that could tell them who it was behind the mask.

Sadly, there wasn’t much he could; even his extensive knowledge couldn’t magically unblurry the whole video or get rid of the mask. There were a few things he could take from the writings and pictures on the walls—not everything because it moved too fast—and he could say for sure that the kidnapper was strong and quick. Thomas had a hard time holding him when he yelled for Jessica and the kidnapper ran almost as fast as the two of them. Even if Michael had kept up with taking care of his physique and trained, he still would have a hard time keeping up with Thomas and Jessica.

Staring at the better screenshot he had managed to take from the kidnapper, he called out, “MC? Could you do me a favour?”

There was no answer and Jake turned his head to look at her. MC seemed deeply concentrated on whatever she was writing on the paper, her hand moving quickly and her head moving from the tablet to the paper and back to the tablet. He quietly stood up and made his way to her side, looking over her shoulder at the paper. Her handwriting was messy and things didn’t seem to follow an order Jake knew about, so he had no idea what she was writing. On the tablet, however, she seemed to be going through some police reports and their discoveries from the cloud. The only thing that stood out to him was the name ‘Phil Hawkins’.

Jake sighed, sitting on the chair next to her and placing a hand on top of the paper she was writing. MC pushed his hand enough so she could finish writing whatever she was writing before raising her head to face him, placing the pen on the paper.

“Everything okay, Jake?”

“I called you and you didn’t answer, thought I could take a look at what you were doing.” She dropped her eyes to the tablet and seemed to realize Jake knew she was searching for something about Phil. “What are you looking for, MC?”

“I’m trying to find out what they arrested Phil for and if we have anything that could prove his innocence.” She hesitated for a few seconds, her eyes darting down to her tablet before focusing on him again. “And I actually wanna ask a favour from you. Could you give me access to Phil’s phone?”

“Why?” Jake heaved a heavy sigh out his mouth, pulling his hand closer to him and staring at her. “Why are you so worried about him?”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, straightening her back before looking back to him. “He trusted me enough to call me for help, Jake. Not a lawyer or his sisters, me. We still don’t know for sure what his connection to Michael is or how much they actually knew each other back then, but I believe him.” MC sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know you don’t like him and I truly appreciate the fact that you want to protect me, but there’s a reason why you trusted me to help find Hannah.” She turned fully to him, placing a hand over his, her eyes soft and caring. “But you also have to trust my intuition. We both know it’s been right when you weren’t and I truly believe Phil is innocent concerning Hannah and Amy.”

“But you don’t know the whole truth either, MC. How can you be so sure you can trust him and that you won’t be helping a murderer get out of jail?”

MC smiled sadly, her eyes dropping to their hands. “You know, a while ago, when we first started researching about the man without a face, Richy asked me to be careful and not to turn it into a bigger thing than it was and I told him that I’m looking for facts and not monsters, and I am. I won’t get Phil out of jail by my intuition only. I need proof for the police to actually let him go and for me to be right. But I also need to look for the proof, I need to go through everything I can to make sure I’m right and for my conscience to be clean about freeing him. And if we’re going for not knowing the whole truth about something or someone,” she raised her eyes to him and Jake had never seen her look so serious before, “I also don’t know the whole truth about you but that doesn’t stop me from trusting you, does it?”

Jake didn’t have an answer to that and he couldn’t take looking at her eyes and seeing the hurt there. He knew she was right; he was, indeed, hiding things from her and, even if it was to protect her, it didn’t make it any less of a lie or an omission. How could he judge someone about hiding something when he was doing exactly the same, especially to her?

“Hey,” she placed a hand under his chin and raised his head so she could look at him. “I’m not saying it to make you feel bad. I’m sure you have your reasons to be hiding things from me, even if it’s just because of your hero complex, though it doesn’t make it any easier. But I also know everyone in the group is lying about something to me, too, just like you and Phil are. No one is one hundred percent honest all the time and I can’t force anyone to be. It just doesn’t stop me from wanting to help any of them or you. None of them have given me a bad enough reason not to try to help or to trust them. Even Lilly did her best to show she’s trustworthy. I don’t see any reason why it should be any different for Phil, especially if your only excuse is not liking him. As much of a flirt as he can be, it’s not enough for us to just let him rot in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, don’t you think?”

He sighed, nodding against her hand before turning his head to rest it on her palm, her thumb caressing his cheek. “Would you believe me if I said I’m actually feeling slightly guilty of going against proving Phil’s innocence, now?”

She chuckled, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? Of course I believe you.” MC’s fingers trailed over his arm, leaving goosebumps in their trail, her eyes soft as she stared at him. “Will you give me access to Phil’s phone, then?”

“That’s not fair. You know I couldn’t deny you that, MC.”

“I know you can’t but it doesn’t mean I can’t ask nicely. Me proving Phil’s innocent isn’t about choosing between him and you, Jake. Believe me, Phil may be nice and flirty, but he’s not my type. I’d rather keep insisting on this stubborn hacker I know.”

Jake chuckled, placing his hand over MC’s and turning his head so he could kiss her palm. “If he’s as stubborn as you are, I’m sure you’ll have a hard time getting through him.”

“You have no idea.” MC smiled, tilting her head. “Will you do it?”

“Of course I will, on one condition.” She sighed and muttered something Jake couldn’t make out, though he was sure it was something sarcastic. “Promise you won’t put yourself in danger over this. Or in any more danger than you already are. Freeing Phil will never be more important than keeping you safe to me.”

“I promise. I mean, if we’re both careless, who the hell is going to make sure we’re not caught?” Jake laughed and shook his head at her. MC leaned closer to him, their foreheads touching, her other hand sliding up his arm until she placed it on his shoulder. “Jake?” He hummed, not being able to look anywhere but her eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

“Not if I kiss you first.”

But MC was faster in closing the distance between them and Jake got caught in how soft her lips felt under his and in how her hands moved to wrap around his neck and play with his hair. He moved one of his to MC’s waist and the other to her cheek, wanting to pull her as close as he physically could, wanting to share the same space with her, to keep her from moving away from him.

Sadly, his lungs didn’t seem to get the memo and they soon burned and forced him to part from her. When they broke apart, Jake panted a little, letting his forehead rest against hers and keeping his eyes closed. It took a few seconds before MC talked again, “You know, making out with me won’t rid you of hacking into Phil’s phone for me.”

Jake chuckled, opening his eyes to stare at MC, and he thought he had never felt as happy as he did at that moment.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #everbyte studios #jake #duskwood jake #hacker boy #mc #duskwood mc #jake x mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood ep 8

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zrtranscripts · 3 years ago

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Home Front, Mission 5: Peter’s Movie Nights (And Days)

Cinematic Masterpiece

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: Hello, runners! Peter here, broadcasting from the gorgeous Princess Louise Theater, an independent cinema a few miles outside Abel. We're going to start working out in a minute, so whilst I'm talking, I suggest doing some light warm-up exercises. Jogging on the spot, stretching, anything that gets your heart rate up.

Right. So muggins here thought it'd be a brilliant idea to loot some cinema equipment for Abel movie night, but the moment I got here, the horde descended, so I've barricaded myself in the projection box and the auditorium is full of zoms. Although as long as there's a film playing, they're too fixated on the screen to come looking for me, but uh, I am trapped for the foreseeable. Still, I can think of worse ways to pass the time than watching The Fantastic Light Trip.

Do you remember this? The uh, sci-fi jukebox musical, came out a few years before the apocalypse. I know everyone made fun of it for having a totally nonsensical plot, but it ruled the box office for months! The Princess Louise actually hosted sing-along screenings, which um, even the zoms appear to like, clearly. Um, sorry. Anyway, uh, Janine thought it would help everyone who's in a similar state of stuckness if I used my impressive fitness experience to lead some Ministry-approved exercises, so let's start with a dance warm-up. Sam said if I plug this cable into – yep. [cable zaps] You should then be able to hear the music from the film when I press this button! Right. Get ready everyone, and dance!

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: Well, that's not the first song I'd think of to soundtrack an inter-species dance-off, but yeah, I think it works. Er, kind of. I wanted us to watch the Fantastic Light Trip as a group. You cry with laughter at the Dance of the Seven Tentacles. You cry with, I mean, just cry at the ending. The song right before they go into hyperspace always gets me. I came to the cinema to bring people together and now everyone's apart. Except for the zombies, obviously. Well, they've got loads of company. Just because we're not in the same place doesn't mean we can't exercise together. We're a team, runners, even if we're far apart.

So now that we're all warmed up, let's do some jumping jacks. Right, you stand with your feet together and your arms by your sides. Then you jump, spreading your legs whilst you're in the air so that you land with them about shoulder-width apart. Now jump back to the starting position. Got that? Great. Now do it again, except this time, swing your arms up over your head at the same time as you spread your legs, then swing them back down as you bring your feet back to the center. Let's give that a go. Good job, runners! I assume. Let's keep it going.

If you're not able to jump right now, keeping your blood pumping with some dance moves is a great alternative. You could uh, walk from side to side instead of jumping, but keep up those arm movements and if you're the sort of person who likes a challenge, Janine, why not try spreading your arms and legs and moving them back to the center whilst you're still in the air? Right, now keep whatever you're doing up as long as you can whilst I turn the music back on for the next song.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: Nice work, runners! Tell you, you really jumped the hell out of those jacks. Oh, great, this is the feast scene. You know, where all of the um, the alien food starts singing. Um, I tell you what. Speaking of which, how's everyone eating? I know we've had to improvise ever since the apocalypse, but we have to be especially creative now. For example, I have several sacks of popcorn and, thank God, a jar of vitamins I happened to loot on my way here. Would be nice to have something green, but lately I’ve found it's healthier not to worry about having the perfect diet and instead just notice how the food makes me feel. And it turns out munching a little popcorn whilst watching a movie feels pretty damn good.

Still, it's gonna feel even better to kick back and relax after releasing some endorphins, so let's do 60 seconds of squats. Was that a band? Or have I just been indoors too long? Uh, anyway, right. Squats. So squats, they build your leg muscles, which is handy if you ever need to, uh, just thinking off the top of my head here, carry a popcorn machine up two flights of stairs. So start by placing your feet just wider than hip-width apart, toes pointing only slightly outwards. Now stretch your arms out in front of you. Look straight ahead so that will help you engage your core and maintain good form. So you now send your hips down and back until they're just lower than your knees, as if you're about to sit down in a chair, and raise yourself back up. Nice. That's it.

So we're going to do that for one minute, or as long as you can comfortably manage, that's fine, and that's going to start now! Excellent! I'm assuming you're all doing this great. Uh, probably need to just slow down. Don't get carried away. Right, we're 15 seconds down. So I want you to try to really sit into the squat, right? Don't lead with your knees, sit into it. Halfway there. Right. Remember to keep your thighs in line with your feet. Don't let your knees start pointing inward or go over your toes because you're gonna be feeling that burden now, it's gonna make you sloppy. Don't do it. Right, 15 seconds to go. Just try and breathe in time with the movements if you can. [loudly inhales and exhales] In, out. Keep on going, and we're done! Oh, perfect, this is the time for the space cadets to do their musical training montage. Right, you take a dance break, or if you're up to it, just keep on squatting. I think I had a T-shirt with that on for a while.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: Yeah, I'll admit it. Before the apocalypse, I was pretty proud of my body. And also after the apocalypse for a while. Some strange body things. I'll tell you about that later. Um, but lately I've learned that the best thing you can do for your body is actually just have a good relationship with it. You know, at the end of the day, it really is the only thing that will ever truly be yours. We runners, we can get quite utilitarian about our bodies, so if something stops us using it to get supplies such as an injury, or again, I'm just thinking off the top of my head, a horde of zombies, that can really get you down. But I'm here to tell you to be kind to your body, even if you can't do exactly what you want with it right now.

So why not start by giving it some exercise? This next move is the extremely nifty chair dip. So first, locate an armless chair. I'll just give you a couple of moments. Oh, there we go. Oh, that one looks great. So that-that should be a chair without arms. I wasn't saying a harmless chair, but I definitely would prioritize a harmless chair over a harmful one. Right, so now perch on the front edge of it, hands gripping the edges on either side of you. Lovely. So put your feet flat on the ground a little way in front of you and then you slide yourself down off the chair, lowering further down and then back up again, really using your arms.

Right, I'm going to believe that was a good job. So if that is too much or if you're worried about the flexibility in your shoulders, actually, punching the air is a genuine great upper body alternative. You do have to be careful not to fully extend or or lock your elbows, but whichever exercise you're doing, you are about to keep it up for as close to a minute as you can, starting any moment... now!

Excellent! Okay, again, don't get too over excited. We've got a whole minute to get through. Ease your way in, keep on breathing in and out. 15 seconds in. If you happen to want to make these chair dips more challenging, you can extend your legs further away so they're actually taking less of your weight. See? Makes it much harder than you thought, doesn't it? And we're halfway through! You really should be feeling that burn in your shoulders. Now that burn is what lets you know you're actually doing something. You're stretching yourself, pushing it. Keep on pushing it, but breathe! Nearly done, runners. Just 15 seconds left, in and out. Keep on going. You're almost at that finish line. You can see it, you can taste it, and time's up!

Nice work, everyone. And now you can reward yourself with a nice relaxing bop as the alien queen leads her subjects in their beautiful synchronized dance, or you could keep doing those chair dips if they're feeling particularly good.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: So The Fantastic Light Trip, it did get just terrible reviews when it came out, but I love that the marketing team like, genuinely leaned into that mockery and that's helped it become a cult classic. And you know, just like them, we've gotten used to making the best of things. You know, looking for the good in every situation. We're just gonna have to look a bit harder for a while. Here, for example, I've only got access to one tiny window and it's in the toilet. It's just big enough for me to stick my arm out and get some delicious vitamin D. And it just means I don't have to worry about SPF. [laughs] Oh, nice try, sun. No skin damage for me!

Course, not everyone's lucky enough to even have a tiny window, or a toilet for that matter. I'll tellyou what. If your situation feels overwhelming, which it might, sometimes the last thing you honestly want to do is exercise, so here's something I used to tell people who came into one of the gyms I was in when they were feeling low. Just concentrate on being in your body and the physical sensation of moving.

And with that in mind, let's raise our heart rates and our moods with some high knees. So we're going to march vigorously on the spot for one whole minute, just like those plucky space cadets out there. Aim to bring your knees to waist height with each step, and begin!

Yes, excellent! Although I did say waist height. No compromise, all the way up. Keep on going. 15 seconds down. Pump the arms, too. It's not all about the knees. There we go, the blood's pumping. Feel it! Halfway there, runners. Lift those knees like you're trying to impress your cadet leader, which in this context is me, and I'm not yet impressed! Keep on going, pushing it. Only 15 seconds left. Keep the core engaged, keep yourself upright, keep the breath and the blood flowing. Feel the energy! And we're done! Just in time for The Fantastic Light Trip’s romantic leads to do their, let's be honest, just gorgeous duet. So take a dance break, or if you're up to it, keep on marching.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: [sighs] I know, I know. It's a bit silly, since it is a romance between a wide-eyed space cadet and an exiled alien prince. But it's just, The Fantastic Light Trip, it's so sincere. We're never sincere, and you can't help but root for them. At least, I can't. You can't see, runners, but the whole cast is on screen now getting ready for the big finale. They're all smiling and yeah, actually, it reminds me of something else that I tried to tell people when I was leading classes. Did you know that studies show that if you smile while you exercise, it genuinely makes you feel better?

And listen, I know, I know. Really annoying when someone else tells you to smile. Boy, did I learn that the hard way with Janine. Won't be doing that again in a hurry. But it really is different if you're smiling for yourself. Just trust me and give it a try. I mean, the last song from The Fantastic Light Trip, it's so uplifting. We're gonna have a cool down dance to it. And while you're dancing, I just - you don't have to - I just encourage you to smile. Because you are here, and you are alive, and you deserve to feel good. And yes, you smile too, Janine, if you're listening. No one can see you, I promise.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: [sighs] And here we go. It's the uh, the part where the alien queen and the leader of the cadets, they finally agree to work together. So all that remains is uh, just to assemble the hyperdrive. Turns out all you need to end an intergalactic war is 20 rousing song and dance numbers. Need to remember to mention that to Janine the next time she's brainstorming our defense strategy.

See, it's now the whole cast and they're together and dancing onto the ship. And you know, they really did have that much fun doing it and, and they're arm in arm. Or well actually, to be fair, arm in tentacle. But then the hatch is closing. Blast off. [laughs] Oh, brava. Well, that raised the spirits! I suppose that's gonna be all from me for now, runners, because I'm gonna have to go find another film before the credits finish rolling and all the zoms start looking for something a little bit meatier to entertain themselves, i.e. moi. So until next time, look after yourselves please, and keep on smiling.

#zombies run #zr home front #zrhf5 #peter's movie nights (and days)#zr transcript

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pluto-fics · 5 years ago

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Inspiration is Motivation － Prologue

Fanfiction | Artist!Taehyung x SingleMom!Reader

Genres: Fluff, Romance, Humor, Smut

Rating: G (for this chapter)

Word Count: 2.385 words

Chapter Warnings: none

Your brows furrow at the earlier statement of your best friend, Hanna.

"Believe me, it'll help you to relax for a few hours and I'll take good care of Ty."

You have no doubt about the latter. Hanna might be that stereotype single woman who likes to go out for a couple drinks every so often, but she is a reliable caretaker and one ridiculously good cook. Based on this, she was an absolute blessing the last two times she watched over your son. However, you still feel a little uneasy about her suggestion.

"I don't know... Tyler is kind of stubborn and moody lately, how could I leave you both alone for nearly four full hours? Not to mention that I can paint at home if I want to, I don't need to go to some weird art course..." you try to defy yourself. The idea of entrusting Hanna with your five year old son for so long worries you. Just the thought of it causes a bad feeling to spread throughout your body. Hanna just rolls her eyes, however. "Listen. I already signed you up for that course this Saturday. It's supposed to start at eleven, won't go past three in the afternoon and you can calmly come back home to Tyler and me having a great time without setting your apartment on fire."

You can't fight down the amused giggle at her statement before you sigh. "Hanna, I really don't-..." you begin, only to be interrupted mid-sentence. "Yes, you do want to try it. I'll be here at 10 this Saturday and you can either go to that course or stay here with us and bathe in my judgment."

And here you are, two days later and sat on a chair in front of an empty canvas and an A3 sized sketchpad, surrounded by strangers who, just like you, are waiting for the course to begin.

You take this time to inspect the equipment provided to you. Brushes and pencils of rather good quality, however accompanied by a cheap, fizzy eraser. The watercolor paint seems decent enough. But the big bottles of acrylics and oils on the desk in the middle of the room, accessible for everyone in it, clearly are not top-notch quality. That of course does not mean it is bad per se, you just might have expected something fancier in the art department of the local Community College.

Your train of thoughts comes to an abrupt stop when you hear someone opening the big wooden door and entering the room, a deep but smooth voice wishing you and your fellow course participants a good morning. The slender figure who just stepped into the room makes your eyes grow wide the second you lay your eyes on him. He is tall, with model like features, facial as well as bodywise. His fashion sense clearly is a little extravagant, for he wears a way too oversized dress shirt with a pair of what almost seemed to be pajama pants of some sort, and a matching beige colored beret topping his head. The big round glasses topping his nose make you curious. Does he need them to see? Or were they simply added to this retro outfit because they fit the vibe?

"I'm glad you all made it here on time, unlike myself" he then speaks while rummaging in the bag he has just placed on top of the desk in the front of the room. You hear quiet giggles erupting from two slightly older women in the back. His lips curve into a handsome smile, not even needing to show the whites of his teeth to make you doubt the existence of a man with such impressive visuals. Yet, you feel kind of stupid for the way you swoon over his looks like a teenager, despite being a grown woman with a child waiting for her to return home.

The young man claps his hands together as if to catch everyone's attention, even though he already possesses the full concentration of everyone in this room. "Now, I'd like to start by introducing myself, if that's alright by you."

He swiftly turns to the chalkboard behind himself and writes down what you assume to be his name.

"My name is Kim Taehyung and I teach traditional art at the local University. But as you can tell, I'm also hosting art courses like this one once a week, while also working as a hobby freelance artist. So I guess you could say that art is my passion."

There it is again. That charming smile of his as he tends to the attentive group of people in front of him. "But enough of me, I think we're all here to improve our skills, so how about we start with some easy warm ups to get creative first?" You notice everyone responding by nodding or already flipping over the cover of the massive sketchpad in front of them to reveal a blank page. Imitating your 'classmates', you flip open your sketchpad and face Mr. Kim again.

He begins by instructing everyone to warm up their wrists by drawing circular shapes of several sizes and shading them to your heart's content to make yourself familiar with the medium you're using. Another hint of his is to try the different art materials provided to each one of the participants and see which one you'd preferably work with today.

A couple minutes later, you can tell Mr. Kim valued his participants' individuality. Only giving a rough theme for the artwork you are supposed to create, he left everything else to you. "Warm Autumn" was the theme he came up with and your mind immediately drifts off into what you would like to call your ‘creative mode’. Images of brown leaves, soft breezes of air and fluffy fabrics of knitwear come to your mind. Thus, you begin by settling on a color palette in warm brown, red and yellow tones and soon start by sketching an idea.

Mr. Kim does no longer talk to the whole course. Instead, he begins to slowly walk around the classroom and take a look at everyone's approaches on the topic. Usually, you'd get so engulfed in your works that you would blend out most of your surroundings. However, Mr. Kim's presence makes it hard for you to fully concentrate on the sketch before you like you usually would. You don't even need to look up to know where Mr. Kim currently stood at, while he gradually comes closer to where you are seated at.

The sound of his steps approaching you slowly sends shivers down your spine, just like the feeling of him standing right beside you, wordlessly examining your sketch. You can't keep from glancing up at his face as his gaze remains locked on the paper before you, an approving look surfacing on his face. He then glances at your face, his eyes meeting yours immediately as he leans down a bit to speak to you with a quieter, low voice. "Nice choice of motives. Do you have an idea for the final composition already?"

You feel your cheeks heating up as you mumble out a shy "Um, kind of", unsure of how to feel about the genuine interest Mr. Kim shows. It's been a while since someone other than your son Tyler had commented on one of your works. The young artist next to you smiles. "You're a fast one, huh? I like that. But let me know if you need anything, alright?" His voice is just as unique as his appearance. And the more you get to hear of it, the more you come to like the sound of it. Nodding your head with a smile, you thank him before he smiles back and moves on to the next participant of his course.

By the end of the course, you have created a piece you are rather proud of - the motives assembled in a harmonic way, adding to the calm and welcoming atmosphere of your painting. Throughout the creation process of it, Mr. Kim came around every once in a while to praise you for your ideas or help you improve parts of your piece in ways you wouldn't have been able to think of yourself. You have actually truly enjoyed today. At the end of the course, Mr. Kim gives his final speech in which he thanks everyone for participating and gives some last advice before sending everyone home with their final artworks. You had just put the materials you had used back to where you got them from, ready to pack your things to leave, when Mr. Kim approaches you with a gentle smile. "(Y/N), am I right?" He addresses you, your heart seemingly skipping a beat at the way your name sounds when spoken with his smooth voice. "Yes, that would be me" you say, turning to him with faked confidence. In reality, something about this Kim Taehyung makes you feel like a shy teenager again. He smiles apologetically as he asks "Do you perhaps have a minute or two to talk? If you're not in a hurry to be somewhere, that is."

To be honest, you want to apologize and leave right now. Tyler is waiting for you at home, after all. And so is Hanna. But your head nods on it’s own accord before your mind could stop it from doing so. What are a few minutes anyway, right?

"Great! Actually, I was curious to see how your piece turned out. To be honest, I didn't really get to look at it yet," he then says as he regards your artwork which is still on the easel at your seat. Examining it interestedly, he chuckles. "You're really talented, you know? This can't have been the first time you’ve painted something like this."

Your lips curve upwards in a bashful smile. "Ah, well actually... It's kind of my hobby. It's just that I haven't had much time to pursue it recently..." you answer. A soft humming noise resonates in his throat before he faces you again. "Are you interested in modern art too?" He suddenly asks, catching you a little off guard. "Modern art?" You repeat, to which he nods. "There's an art exhibition at the City Hall next friday. The main focus of it lays on contemporary artists and most works shown there are paintings and sculptures, rather than installations or anything like that. But I have a feeling that you might like it." You aren't sure where he was aiming at with this information, but you appreciate it. Mirroring his friendly smile, you say "It does sound interesting, yes. But I'm really busy lately, I'm not sure if I'll be able to go."

Mr. Kim seems understanding as he nods. "Well, if you do make it, maybe we'll meet there." He responds, making you nod slowly as you mumble a barely audible "That'd be nice." You want to ask him if there'd also be works of his exhibited there, remembering that he introduced himself as a freelance artist earlier, but the sound of your phone vibrating in your pocket interrupts you. "Ah, sorry" you then say, quickly looking at your phone to see messages of Hanna coming in. It’s nothing serious, just questions about whether Tyler still takes naps after lunch or not, since he apparently got a little energy boost after having eaten well. But it is urgent enough for you to decide that it is time to go home now. "I better get going now. Today was really nice, thank you. And thank you for telling me about the art exhibition, too. As you said, maybe we'll meet there." You speak as you collect your belongings and art piece, Mr. Kim nodding calmly and smiling as he wishes you a nice day before you leave.

On your way home, you keep thinking about today's events. About the fun you have had while painting for the first time in months and the useful help Mr. Kim had offered. The giddy feeling you got whenever he would lean in to talk to you quietly with that soothing deep voice of his. You have really had a great day, even if you still feel a little awkward for being so affected by the male's looks and kind words. But who could blame you, if said artist looks like a piece of art himself?

Arriving at home, the first thing you notice right after opening the front door is the welcoming scent of warm pancakes coming from your kitchen. Peeking past the doorframe, you smile at the sight of your best friend and son pouring dough into a frying pan together, your little son giggling in excitement.

"Hello you two" you greet the diligently working duo and laugh when your son immediately comes running to you to hug your legs and welcome you back excitedly. Crouching down to meet his eyes, you then give him a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. "Did you have a nice time with Hanna?" You ask, your smile widening when Tyler nods eagerly. "Yes! Hanna knows so many fun games for two! We played hide and seek too!” You give Hanna a glance, relieved to see her smiling just as happily as your little son. For some reason you’re always worried that he might be a little too challenging for her sometimes, but seeing her reaction to his happy storytelling, you have no doubt that she adores your son almost as much as you do.

Getting up to greet your friend properly with a short hug, you then look at the pile of pancakes on the kitchen counter. "Someone seems to be hungry, huh" you comment, Hanna rolling her eyes as she speaks, avoiding the topic. "How was the art course?"

You can feel Tyler leaning against your legs, silently requesting your attention. Picking him up to hold him close, you then begin to tell Hanna about the building, the people there, the fun you had when painting something from start to finish for the first time in ages, and in the end you thank her for having made this possible. Yet, a very specific detail you keep to yourself for now － Kim Taehyung.

Thank you for reading the Prologue to my new series “Inspiration is Motivation”!

If you can’t wait to read the next chapter, check out my Series Masterlist and follow @pluto-fics to be notified of new updates.

Stay safe and see you soon! 💜

- Pluto 🌑

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fructuyeux · 3 years ago

Text

CANADA-20 (xxx) COVID-19

3/13/2020 - 3/22/2020

By: Rayce R. Rayos

This undertaking was planned as a daringly creative escape from mounting internally & externally placed workloads, & was slated to take place during the UNLV 2020 Spring Break. In concurrence with the vacation was the ever-increasing, ever-diversifying socioeconomic fallout, mandates, & obstacles associated with the first global pandemic that I have experienced in my lifetime. I’d be remiss to not admit that the cheapened airline, lodging, & transportation prices were viewed as a silver lining in an otherwise hysteric & strange time in human history. The following account of the trip is intended to recount the experiences & knowledge gained (from what is remembered), and aid in the recollection of the associated photo-documentation conducted during.

DAY 1 - 3/14 - 7.5 miles

The outgoing flight 1224 from McCarran International Airport to the eventual destination of Niagara Falls, New York was delayed, unbeknownst to me, & so the trip began with a frantic drive to the airport with a hastened goodbye to my roommate & lovely daughter (who wanted dearly to join her father in Canada). The flight was delayed by an hour, & I made it on the plane.

A quick stop in Denver, CO was followed by a landing in Fort Lauderdale, FL. Upon landing, the Spirit Airlines attendant notified me that my flight to Niagara Falls had already left (to the complete fault of their flight coordination), & that I’d have to spend the night & following day in Broward County, 15 miles North of Miami. I was frazzled & upset to have started my trip with such a complication, but after the airline was able to change my ticket free of charge, I decided to extend my trip an extra day. So, I asked them to book my returning flight for a day later (3/20 → 3/21), to which they agreed to do for free, utilizing a COVID-19 flight disruption program. I booked a room at the Vacation Inn in the middle of the night, & recalibrated my trip schedule.

The following morning was a beautiful sunny day in South Florida, & after resting my luggage at the motel for the day (for a fee), I skateboarded to SE 17th Street, hung a right, & breezed through a few miles of million-dollar homes & yachts, over the Causeway Bridge, to what would eventually become Fort Lauderdale Beach Park. Full of families & largely free of fear, the beach was warm, sunlit, & vivacious. The locals were out in near-full effect, & I spent the entire day with the rays on my back, the water at my waist, & a respite of relaxation before ensuing madness. I even struck up a conversation with some fellow beachgoers as a result of my Kobe Bryant tattoo, & learned a good deal about quotidian life down there. I got a workout in on the beach equipment, & some peaceful serenity as I stared down the horizon beyond the Atlantic. I returned to my motel to acquire my bags & make my way to the airport en route to New York… Little did I know that a bar, Bimini Bay to be exact, neighbored my motel. I found myself entrenched in an environment eerily similar to that of the Huntridge Tavern, although this spot was half the size with raunchy anal porn playing on multiple screens throughout all of the 5 walls. Throwing brews back & chain-smoking with the locals to country music was a familiar feeling, & instilled in me further the universal nature of letting loose. That being said, I lost track of time & had to hightail it out of there via a gentleman’s Uber to the airport. Another flight ran after & barely boarded in the nick of time… My time in South Florida was as serendipitous as flight disruptions can be. The most lingering aspect of my time spent there was, indubitably, the sunburn that would come to stick with/on me for the remainder of the vacation. Perhaps the worst case of the sun’s kiss I’ve come to bare. Before fully coming to this realization, I’m on a plane to New York.

DAY 2 - 3/15 - 10.47 miles

Upon being alive on arrival in New York state at 2 AM in the morning, I resolved to sleep in the IAG airport for the night, especially considering my phone charger at the time had been severely out of whack. There I lay, curled on an airport bench in Niagara Falls for the night with blistering skin & a scent of fresh tobacco smoke (& ass). I distinctly recall wrestling with the time I should render myself awake, eventually settling upon 9:30 AM. It was at this time that I found myself the only visible individual in the airport terminal; no staff, no bags, no patrons, nothing. The unexpected isolation harkened memories of the film 28 Days Later. Once the drool was free from my chin, I hailed a Lyft to the American-Canadian border, specifically the entrance to the Rainbow Bridge; it was along this ride that my driver informed me that the American dollar was fairly strong against the Canadian dollar to the tune of 1 USD = 1.33 CAD (roughly). This would come to be an extremely welcomed caveat to the remainder of the trip, as most every purchase converted to about 75% of all prices quoted in Canada.

When the border was reached, there I stood as a man with his spirit & belongings intact, & began my trek over the bridge to a foreign land. With frequent pause, the majesty of the falling water on a brisk Spring day will play in my mind for years to come. Pictures were taken, deep thought was attempted, & it was a stark moment of gratefulness for the life I have been given. Next was passing through Canadian Customs at the north end of the bridge, & after being grilled for a moment as to my intentions for entering, the officer pointed me in the direction of the bus stop from which my Greyhound was leaving in less than an hour. From the Rainbow Bridge to the Whistleblower bridge 2.5 miles north, I was blessed with a walk of forced clarity as I hugged Niagara’s riverway with 75+ pounds of much needed possessions. I found myself doubting my ability to invite others with me on trips in the future out of a fear for unintentionally inflicting similar tasks upon them. Nevertheless, I made it to my Greyhound in time and rested on the ride to Toronto.

The recuperation was much needed. When I awoke I found myself in Canada’s largest city (& the 9th-largest in North America), Toronto, Ontario. Excitement coursed through my capillaries & once departing from the bus on foot, it was straight to my ‘Chinatown Guest House’ to set down my things & get on the go… this was not the case. A whole fiasco followed where I was unable to contact the host, thereby unable to access the place I had paid to stay for the night (& the night before, despite Spirit having different plans on DAY 1). The first two Torontonian hours were spent in a Chinatown chicken spot (Gdou’s) where I struggled to gain the cellular abilities necessary to overcome this debacle; I bought a new charger & charger port at the market center across Spadina. I grappled with frustration in a very real sense, but was utterly appeased to find that I had been sent an email containing the entry instructions from Booking.com. Relief rushed over me. I grabbed my bags, & hunkered down in a room with a wooden balcony & stunning view of Downtown Toronto to boot. I showered, shat, & escaped into the city heading South on Spadina. A brief stop at the famed ‘Graffiti Alley’ along with a trip to the marijuana grocer located me in the heart of the Fashion District, a sector largely reminiscent of Williamsburg, BK (as hip, although much smaller). After a lovely skate to the harbourfront I was able to catch the sun set behind a vast array of monolithic condos & headquarters. The sun was able to get quite low, however, after having nestled between two skyscrapers, & that shared scene on the pier between myself & just a handful of individuals was quite a sight. Heading south afterwards, I rolled by the Toronto Music Gardens, through Coronation Park, & through a series of railway tracks amidst arenas (BMO Arena), Centennial Park, Lakeshore Boulevard, & an array educational campuses. Once Dufferin Street was reached, I headed toward Little Portugal. On the way there I stopped short (per the advice of a local) & turned north up King Street. Halfway home I stopped at the restaurant Thai Place Too & enjoyed some steaming seafood Tom Yum fit with stimulating conversation from the waitress. I paid my bill, thanked those there, & pushed onward on King Street traversing a barrage of tunnels, city folk, & shopping centers. At this juncture I recall being bummed by the lack of nighttime activities, & decided to stop at a bar near my place for the night called Wide Open.

What was to begin & end as a night of the all-evasive ‘one brew’ quickly accelerated into a merry time of mutual drunkenness & fun. A couple dental hygienists befriended me at the bar, & not far to follow were a West Indian techy working for Google & an Irishwoman on her way out of town. My memories of what exactly transpired are quite shaky, but an unflinching enjoyment of that particular night at the bar lasts. I got home at an ungodly hour & crash-land in my bed.

DAY 3 - 3/16 - 7.53 miles

Similar to popping out of bed due to a frightening nightmare, “Where’s my fucking board?!” was the thought & simultaneous phrase that opened my eyes that morning. I was still drunk, so a hangover wasn’t an issue, but discovered a damn large lump on my right posterior parietal bone & a pool of blood in the sheets where I slumbered. I racked what was left of my brain as to where/how/why this injury came to be sustained, but to no avail. In hindsight, it’s consistent with braceless backwards fall, & vaguely recall attempting to ride my skateboard back home equipped with a BAC of full-blown ‘no bueno’. Nevertheless, the pain wasn’t of serious concern (although I had plenty of time to reflect on the very real possibility of me now having to operate in a concussed state). What was of concern was my skateboard, my iPod, & my eighth of weed that I had yet to dip into. I began retracing my steps and was welcomed with open arms by my beautiful black, four-wheeled bride waiting for me at the front doorstep- Check 1. I scooped up my board, got dressed & readied for the (likely music-less) day ahead, had a solid conversation with my father, & cleared my stuff from the house just in time to be 4 hours late for checkout.

In one of the more daring tactics employed on the trip, I stashed my big purple duffle bag (containing clothes & other non-essentials) & my backpack (containing my laptop, passport & other very-essentials) in the empty garbage bin to the side of the front door. This was a huge gamble, & one that would weigh somewhat on my conscience for the coming hours, despite heavy medication- re-upped on weed, Check 2. During my second trip to Graffiti Alley I encountered a bum in mid-tweak repeatedly pulling his pants up & down amidst a backdrop of beautiful art, & naturally this struck me as microcosmic of the whole of Toronto. The bar I had chanced upon the night prior didn’t resume service until 4 in the evening, & so I had a few hours to kill which were spent speaking with various loved ones & contemplating last night’s events as I bobbed & weaved a hangover. 4 o’clock rolls around & I walk into the bar greeted by a smiling bartender with an unclaimed red iPod. THIS WAS A PERSONAL WIN OF GREAT PROPORTIONS, & solidified my successful navigation through mindless debauchery abroad- Check 3. I felt the proverbial wind was once again behind my back, & opted to knock out the city’s landmarks North of Spadina Avenue, largely via Adelaide & King Streets until Yonge.

Post-modern magnificence a la architecture kept my chin up as I managed to dodge pedestrian after pothole after Porsche. Sundown was not far off & the gleaming beams reflected softly off the mirrored panels some seventy-five plus stories on all sides. A real embodiment of the term ‘hustle & bustle’ was laid out in front of me, complete with a citizenry whose diversity mimicked that of my own home a world away. The gritty attitude that I’ve come to associate with East coast cities (specifically the colder ones) was alive & well here, evidenced in reluctance to help guide tourists or even tell the time of day. I loved it, & judged it as genuine more so than anything else. It should also be noted that the music playing in my ears throughout my time in the ‘Six’ was exclusive to the stylings of Drake, a rapper native of the city with references to its contents (streets, sides of town where the pretty girls sleep, subpopulations, parks, etc.) found abundantly in his lyrics.

When Yonge was reached, I peered west to a ton of things going on, but elected to go east. This turned out to be a wise decision. After a few blocks I was greeted by the area of town most closely associated with the Toronto skyline & its historical foundations on the illustrious Front Street. Here is where I stood mouth agape with the enormity & incomprehensible complexity of the city on full view. I touched the base of the CN tower & spent a good amount of time in awe as it registered (despite the Stratosphere being superior in my eyes), traversed the Railway museum set just outside of Olympic Park, gazed upon the Rogers Center where the Blue Jays come to bat, & ended at the water of Lake Ontario at the sandy Harbour Square Park where some solid skating took place. After some time, the thought of my possessions having lasted (or not) in the trash receptacle all this time prompted me to retrieve them, & so back to Chinatown I booked it. The moment of truth arrived when I got off my board at 83 W. Sullivan Street, & lo & behold, my stuff was nestled just as I had left it some 5 hours before. Feeling giddy from the travel-savvy risks taken, I was on to grab dinner with an old colleague of mine who happened to be doing her post-baccalaureate studies there. T. & I, a former classmate at Valley High, met at what we would come to find as nothing more than another closed restaurant with a COVID-19 newsletter plastered on the door. We deliberated playfully on what we should now do, & after having happened upon the ‘T O R O N T O’ sign & all of its illuminated glory, a 6-pack of Stella Artois from the rather hidden LCBO in the mega-commercial Eaton Center became the night’s main entree. Polite exchanges with exceedingly conversational locals made for a nice segue as we awaited our second Lyft ride to the Harbourfront.

The Harbourfront Centre was largely uncrowded as temperatures dipped below zero (Celsius, of course), & after a brew-cigarette combo, it was in an instance that snow began falling from the blackened sky & onto everything in sight… including our unsheltered selves. It was as surprising as it was splendid (at least for a desert cactus like me) to have been outdoors somewhere prior to snowfall & then to behold its beginning. A few days prior, I had been notified that the ski lift an hour North of Ottawa whose mountain I intended to shred had been closed, & so, I found myself with a decision to make: stay in the Toronto area an extra night or board the bus I had booked & crashing in a twin-sized bus seat for the night & do who knows what in Ottawa… Motivated by the phrase, “What the hell are you going to do in Ottawa?” I chose the former & began searching for a nearby hotel room. My homegirl, sitting beside me, of course overheard, & more-than-kindly offered a guest room in her condo as a suitable place to rest my head for the evening. I accepted, & we whisked ourselves out of the snow to a 12th-story condo in the 95+% Chinese suburb of Markham, ON. An once-schoolmate was changed into a dear friend after having exhibited flawless hospitality in the form of whiskey, toast, toothpaste, a bed & sublime conversation. We jabbed & joked in Francais (with hers being superior to my own), & this was a much-needed introduction to everyday dialogue in the different tongue of the Quebecois whom I would spend most of the days to follow with.

DAY 4 - 3/17 - 4.38 miles

I awoke early in the morning after not being able to sleep too much due to my skin’s incessant irritation, as well as a pseudo-insomnia I’ve come to expect from myself when on vacation. To fill the time between my awakening & my host’s, I read as much of The Four Agreements, by Don Miguel Ruiz as I could retain, ending with the last chapter left unread. As a result, the mantras prompted by the book that one is to agree with from within his/herself resonated with me. They are ‘be impeccable with your word,’ ‘don’t take anything personally,’ ‘don’t make any assumptions,’ & ‘always do your best.’ Fondly, I looked to these statements as a source of my second wind around this time, as the physical toll of my endeavors began somewhat to present themselves.

When T awoke, we engaged in parley for another hour or so before trudging to the neighborhood bus/rail station where she purchased my ticket & we ran goofily to make the train before the doors swiftly shut. During the train ride back to Downtown Toronto I was able to sit quietly in my thoughts, as well as get some business dealings out of the way via phone. The walls flanking the tracks were riddled in graffiti of both very high- & very low-quality pieces on fleeting displays. We were headed to Union Station, the hub for all non-automobile commutes in the metropolitan area, & second-largest transportation facility in North America, servicing some seventy-two million humans yearly. A stunning structure of Greco-Roman design with pristine pillars, it was a treat to walk the halls of such an obviously integral establishment. Soon we said our brief farewell & parted ways so that she could go to school & I could purchase a rail ticket to Ottawa, ON- set to leave later in the day.

I purchased my rail ticket to Ottawa for 6:30 PM & stashed my luggage at the bagging station inside the terminal, leaving me with 3 ½ hours to get the last of my rocks off in a city unique to itself. I went straight for Yonge-Dundas square after having caught a glimpse of the scene days prior, & once in the center I felt a likening to Times Square, both personally & perceivably. There was no better wayward idea at the time than to bust off some skate tricks in the center of such commotion, & was able to have a solid 15-20 minutes on the board before security (much like their American counterparts) gave me the good ol’ boot. Onto St. Lawrence Market I dashed, the bayside market most closely associated with Canadian grub. Here I tried peameal for the first time, & was left affirmed of Canadian courtesy, although the meal itself wasn’t anything to write home about. Yet another stop at Tim Horton’s for some pastries seemed in order before heading back to Union Station. Back at the staging port for my bus it was revealed to passengers that there was a 50-minute delay- just the break I needed to step out & smoke a potent bowl. When I did finally step outside after a few lefts & maybe a right, there in front of me stood the Scotiabank Arena where the Toronto Raptors (reigning NBA Champions) play their home games. To be frank, I was at the rear of the practice court, but nevertheless, happy to happen to be there. The train boards, takes off, & a long list of Canadian towns were slept through & bypassed in the dead of night. I hailed a lift from the Ottawa Train Station to my hostel for the night. The place served as the first jail in city, & had since been neatly converted into a hostel with guests sleeping in tight-fitting ‘jail cells.’ I was on floor 6 in cell number 613, the quarters of a long-gone inmate by the name of Angelo Villamino. I relished this opportunity to mix the excitement of historicism with the usually lull nature of lodging. The rest itself was subpar as my skin had begun peeling profusely during the day, & remained red hot during the night.

DAY 5 - 3/18 - 16.24 miles

Morning comes quickly & I am tasked to clear my cell of my things in a playful return to freedom. Breakfast was held in the dining hall of the jailhouse, aptly ascribed the ‘oldest dining hall in Ottawa.’ After replenishing my body, I held my bags at the front desk, & hurled myself into the city; I had a little over one hour to squeeze as much of the country’s capital into my memory banks as possible. I began by searching for the Parliament building (more like a castle) where the bulk of legislation for the world’s second-largest country (in landmass) largely transpires. No Prime Minister Trudeau or politicians in sight, as the effects of the Coronavirus pandemic amplified by the day. I believe this is the day that the Prime Minister of Canada closed the southern border to incoming Americans, followed swiftly by our President’s mutual refusal of incoming foreign travelers at the border. Admittedly, this was not of concern to me, as I figured (& thankfully was later proven correct) that a U.S. citizen would be permitted to come home. In hindsight, I perhaps predicted such measures being taken & allowed them to expedite my plans of getting to Canada before being unable to enter as an American.

Anyway… by Parliament I glided taking whatever pauses necessary to piece together how things came to be as they are up there from an academic perspective, but carefully preserving the right to take the utmost tourist-y photos (much like others do at 1600 Pennsylvania). A breathtaking building it was indeed, & that was just the view from the street! I continued along my path, circumnavigating the center of the city which took me to Victoria Island & into the province of Quebec for a brief moment (although I was not aware of the provincial border at the time). Like my time in Niagara, I elected to skate from a southern bridge to a northern one, the latter being Alexandra bridge over the Ottawa River. What a special moment this turned out to be as my wheels clanked over the wooden boards of the bridge, seemingly to the dismay of the townspeople. I was not the least bit concerned for this harmless transgression, as I had been otherwise captivated by my backside view of Parliament sitting atop its hill. It felt as if I had been transported to Transylvania, & the Victorian edifice gave me a sense of passion for human ingenuity. I made it back to the HI Ottawa Jail Hostel, aligned my belongings, & requested a ride to the Ottawa Greyhound terminal to catch my bus to Montreal. Here is precisely where Francais surpassed English as the primary mode of communication for the foreseeable future. The beloved Quebecois are very proud of their Francophone heritage, as it is the written language on road signs & nearly all signage everywhere (with a distinctive lower regard for English).

Arrival in Montreal occurred after the couple-hour bus ride. Immediately I was made aware of the foothold in normalcy that the French language commanded there, mainly because everything was in French (& not always in English). Outside the bus station, during my coordination with my Airbnb host, multiple homeless individuals approached me in search of loose change or a cigarette. This would be otherwise unworthy of mention had it not been for their guttural requests being in a language outside of English; I remember finding it striking to conceive a natively French-speaking bum whose domain I was now a guest in. My stuff & I made yet another march to the place I would come to call a temporary home- the apartment of Alix & Marion. I was mid-toke when my host, Alix, motioned to me to come to the stairs at the foot of the door & take my entry. A simple ‘bonjour,’ we greeted each other with, & I demonstrated to her that I would prefer to speak in her primary language in an effort to sharpen my own ear & mouth, to which she gladly agreed. The remainder of our exchanges over roughly the next 48 hours took place in Francais, with varying degrees of contextual & vernacular depth. The common Montrealaise person is a French-speaker with a veritable accent when they switch to English. As the old addage goes, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. I met this challenge to navigate a new cityscape & probe its peoples in an embracing way with occasional angst, constant excitement, & most profoundly with a thirst for knowledge.

My goods were locked away in my room, I had just showered, so I grabbed my board & set sail in search of the city’s lifebloods. Beginning in Chinatown (which usually tends to be either exactly or nearby places I stay in cities), I opted to head west in search of Le Plateau & Mile’s End, sections of the town celebrated for the globality & execution of their cuisinieres. Some poutine boeuf hache from Main Deli on Rue Ste. Laurent seemed the right call, & turned out better than my imagination had guessed. From Mile’s End southward I was bound, seeking to lay eyes upon L’Universite de Montreal. Little did I know it was set atop one of the many tiers of Mt. Royal at the city’s center. Getting there was rather trying, but the views of Quebec’s largest city at night from the campus, coupled with the exhilaration of board-bombing down the occasional hill, left little to be desired & much to be remembered. Further south of the University lied L’Oratoire de St. Joseph (St. Joseph’s Oratory), a Catholic-driven destination featuring towering stained-glass windows, a gathering hall for services that rivaled the most Mormon of Tabernacles, along with a balcony’s viewpoint all its own. After struggling to find the exit from the Oratory, I found it in my best interest to begin the journey back to my bed. A complete encircling of Mt. Royal park was supposed to cap the day’s adventure as night had already befallen hours before. Perhaps fate had other plans in mind.

My phone had been rendered useless at this point, & I had little more than my intelligence to rely on to get me back home. Unfortunately, my mental capacity had waned significantly over the course of the day’s doings, & over the next 2 or 3 hours I could be plainly seen wandering somewhat aimlessly from roadside map to roadside map. The outcome of being well off-track was spectacular, however. I cannot help but feel I got to experience the city in a different & daring light. Half of me wanted to return home, & the other half wanted to investigate each eye-catching facet; more often than not, I let the need to investigate prevail & tacked some formidable mileage onto the invisible odometer of my skateboard throughout the night. After some much-needed guidance from a man walking & a bus driver, I was able to piece together just enough of my surroundings to locate 1223 Rue Ste. Elisabeth. Before heading home, I stopped into an Indian restaurant called SpiceBoys, where I requested tandoori chicken with curry rolled into naan bread. The only problem was that their card terminal was unable to accept any of my debit or credit cards, & so, with one stroke of effortless Indian-Canadian kindness, I was gifted a hearty dinner for the night free of charge. With the help of daylight, the next day I uncovered that I had thoroughly explored Downtown Montreal (via Rue Ste. Catherine), the Red-Light District, the Quartier Latin (Latin Quarter), & the Quartier des Spectacles (Entertainment District). I crept back into the apartment, which creaked with every floorboard, into my room & resigned to fatigue.

DAY 6 - 3/19 - 8.64 miles

I remained asleep in my quarters for the morning’s entirety, having groveled thirteen hours through the mandatory regeneration of my body & mind. Near this time I had an extended conversation with my hostess in which I requested to place my bags there after check-out the following day & attached reasoning to the request… completely in Francais! She was more than accommodating. Awakened & thoughts of the night prior still scrambling my brain, I showered (peeling skin off myself for the vast majority of time in the water), clothed myself in some hot shit, & set out to cross the St. Lawrence River. The cartographic struggles that were now in the past (plus a charged phone) helped me immensely in getting to my desired destinations in the coming days. I set out southward on Boulevard Rene-Levesque seeking to hit Griffintown & St. Henri before taking the Wellington Street bridge over to the L’isle de Ste. Helene (St. Helen Island). The riverfront at Sq. St. Patrick was an intoxicating mixture of sights & sounds; inlaid with a frozen stream, industrious (sometimes abandoned) infrastructure, & graffiti/street art that seamlessly colorized a scene already full of vibrance made for a quite memorable portion. At the point where most individuals had turned back due to the icy paths & an increasingly disinviting ambience, I progressed under Highway 10. On a route I was positive few or none had taken before, I stood roadside at dusk having to think intensely upon my next move & if it was the correct one. Wrong ones were made, gloves were dropped, but in time & effort I was able to find Avenue Pierre-Dupuy.

For a handful of kilometers, I skated along the shipyard gazing upon the city that I had been so immersed in & with. I was trying to practice kicking & pushing in the ‘goofy’ stance, so that I could face the spectacles & not apartment complexes (to mild avail). Before I knew it, I reached Parc Dieppe (Dieppe Park), a park on the north tip of the Cite du Havre & the starting point of the Pont de la Concorde (Concord Bridge). I would begin crossing without giving myself the time to let fear fester. Cars sped by at a half-meter’s length as my wheels rolled over tidbits of gravel, & more present in my mind, over a large body of water. I recall taking a few moments of pause at the bridge’s midpoint to survey my surroundings, & beautifully dominating they were. Humbled I felt, truly. As if my existence equated to a ripple in the river below, & with my individual ripple I can become a hurricane, or mud. The end of the bridge was a comforting sight.

To reach L’isle de Ste. Helene was the goal for the day & having gotten off the east end of the Pont de la Concorde, I was finally there. A long walk up the eastern coast of the island awaited me & was met with a heart teeming with adventure. Here I had time alone. With no other humans nearby, I let my mind run wild with thoughts of the trip to this point & how, in the grand scheme of things, I felt I was at where I should be; perhaps not geographically as one’s physical station is usually inconsequential. But in my mental state I was home, & home alone at that. Onward & northward I strode through the Parc Jean-Drapeau, laying eyes upon the ‘Biosphere’- a spherical structure on the island meant to champion ecology. Trees & ice accompanied me on the brisk walk to the north end of the island. There, Pont Jacques-Cartier (Jacques Cartier Bridge) awaited me in all of its steel beam splendor. Thankfully, the lanes of traffic & the pedestrian walkway had a divider between them, as well as a protective gate on the side where one might otherwise go overboard. This was all I needed to hop back on my board & skate my weathered boots over the St. Lawrence for the last time. On the bridge there were workers toiling away & the dazzling light sequence of the bridge itself made for a surreal experience. In the distance I could see the bridge, lit in rainbow colors, that I had crossed merely an hour or two before this new bridge that served as my current vantage point. Thoughts on the ephemerality of my existence at large (exemplified by having been way over yonder ‘then’ & here ‘now’) & the absolute need for self-belief against a vacuum of chance pervaded my tiny brain. The Pont Jacques-Cartier provided a special moment in my life that I can attest to having been rarely duplicated before. For reasons beyond me, I shed a tear & smoked a bowl before getting off.

Once off, I felt my way through Gay Village & back down into the Quartier Latin where I stopped for dinner at a quaint, but busy, Napoli Pizzeria. The owner was Italian. The waiter too. Both spoke Italian, English, & French, but after a while a Mexican family of 6 on vacation from Monterrey was seated, & the working duo displayed their aptitude in the Spanish language as well, going so far as to tell jokes anecdotally. I grinned & shared in the aura of the exchange, although I likely resembled a dirty drifter in the corner. Coming from such worldly humans, naturally the smoked salmon pizza topped with capers & onions was not lacking in the least bit. So, I ordered a large box for take-out after munching away the smaller portion & took my leave. On the way home, I stopped at a Second Cup Coffee Co. location & had a brief verbal volley with the barista in request of a cheesecake. He complimented my accent when speaking French, & even likened it to that of a French person (maybe meaning not Quebecois), despite glaring difficulties in my comprehension & rebuttals. Riding an emotional (& literal) high during the descent of a simply remarkable day of jam-packed novelty & sensation in all forms (sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touches, introspection), I returned to the apartment for my last full night in the region.

DAY 7 - 3/20 - 2.42 miles

My time in Montreal was now nearing an end, & I began to hold thoughts of coming home in high regard. When the sluggishness of sleep washed away in the shower (insert skin peeling of the largest proportions here), I readied my luggage & cleaned my temporary room as best as I could to eliminate all signs of a horrific sunburn & accompanying cranial gash. With the green light from my hostesses to store my luggage in the apartment until the night’s 10:50 bus ride to Plattsburgh, NY, I was intent upon checking off the last few Montreal-bound goals that remained. This came chiefly in the form of a desire to reach the Mt. Royal lookout in order to take in the city-sphere from its namesake mountain. Originally, I had intended to skateboard there from the apartment, but after a few blocks of dousing rain, I called an Uber to scoop me up (after finding out that Lyft doesn’t yet operate in Quebec) & take me. The friendly Uber driver, Vincent, let me out at the drivable point closest to the Chateau Mont Royal, & didn’t hesitate to call me crazy for being there in such ferocious conditions. He pointed me in the proper direction which was aided by a fellow human headed toward the same spot as myself. Precipitation worsened as the half-mile March was underway, but it was worth every goosebump & raindrop once I reached the outlook.

A dreary backdrop of low-hanging, gray clouds & the smell of rain caressed the skyline’s perimeter in a way that rang true & imprinted upon me a stunningly naked Montreal. An intimate version of the city it was, gripped by the unknown like the rest of the world, yet resilient enough for entrepreneurialism to survive in pockets. Having already been to many of the places now set in my sight made the moment all the more fulfilling & full circle. A naive feeling of having ‘conquered’ the city laid bare before me was soon supplanted by the revelation of the realer self-conquest. Half-frozen water panging my face & wind gusts pulling & pushing without cease proved no match for the firmness I had found, in feet & fortitude. This was the quintessential culmination of the week I endured, & one one-hundred percent befitting of such a voyage.

I made my escape of Mount Royal with haste before my inadequate (but stylish) clothing proved a fatal error. Originally, I had the notion to return to Main Deli because my last meal there was so damn good, but in the moment I opted for Schwartz’s Deli across the street in the name of variety. A heaping steak sandwich slatted between two tiny slices of wheat with mustard proved to be the house specialty, & was served less than a minute after being ordered… It was alright. Homeward bound with a full stomach, I decided to walk into a store that I had held in the back of my mind after passing by my first day there, Cul-de-Sac. This place was happening! The owner of the store was gracious in her conversation as I browsed. I eventually confessed my inspiration(s) gained from her shop (& plans to recreate in a respectful, homage-paying manner). We spoke at length about various topics, from our being of parents, to our being of owners of similar retail operations, to her allegiance to Quebec & not the whole of Canada. In fact, she was the foremost messenger of the separatist mentality that the people of the Quebec province displayed, on their countenance & in their conduct. I purchased a few of the items in her shop, she threw me some good stuff for free, & we wished well upon each other at my exit. That was the last recreational stop in Montreal, & soon thereafter I retreated to the Quartier des Spectacles to acquire my things. I was graced with the time to charge my phone & rest my bones for about 45 minutes. It was during this time that a cherished exchange between myself, Alix, & Marion (a hostess with whom I’d only spoken with via Airbnb messaging up to this point) occurred. It had become expected that I was asked what I did with my day, & that is how the chat began. I explained the day’s travels, thanked the duo for being a source of comfort & ease at the beginnings & ends of trying days. I also thanked them for putting up with my butchering of their language (as each inhabitant of the apartment was from France) for the sake of practice, which they met befuddled & were quick to praise my ability to communicate/intonate in their complicated speech. They even went so far as to say that my speaking has a native’s accent & were super appreciative of my having taught myself over the last couple years. A mutual encounter I cannot help but feel it was, & I remain grateful for their pleasant & inviting demeanors. I climbed down the long stairwell of 1223 Rue Ste. Elisabeth once & for all & signaled for Uber to take me to the Longueil Metro.

I had arrived at the bus station with plenty of time to spare, having somewhat learned the errors of my ways. I was serious about not wanting to cut anything close with such little time left for my returning flight home. I waited patiently at my gate for my bus to arrive & whisk me away back to the states for my 2:59 AM flight out of Plattsburgh, New York (Upstate). Sadly, the bus’s arrival time came & went, & at the mention of the ticketing booth agent, I waited another 45 minutes for it. Having received no notification of cancellation from the bussing company, no accurate updates on the whereabouts of the bus, & minute after minute shaving away from takeoff time, I was forced to call an Uber to pick me up from the metro station & take me to the border- this cost one-hundred Canadian dollars. We stopped at an ATM, grabbed some snacks, & finally Ridaha & I were on our way. A fruitful & insightful chat aided us along the drive, & I was able to disentangle much French from this nice Tunisian man. An hour passed & we arrived at the U.S. border.

As the car pulled up to the border, U.S. Customs agents ordered repeatedly for my driver’s documentation. A brief argument between an unsuspecting Ridaha & an extremely serious officer took place. The very odd circumstances were eventually explained, Ridaha was directed to make a U-turn & head home while I exited the vehicle, grabbed my bags, & headed to the border patrol substation. It was there that I was informed that I would need to call a cab (as Uber wasn’t functioning in this particular location), but to complicate matters drastically, the taxi services weren’t doing the ‘border run’ that night. My heart fell into my stomach, & I had entered a phase of worry that I had yet to reach at any point along the trip. Thankfully, one Officer Burdette walked me to the West Service Road behind the U.S. Border Patrol & Customs Champlain Station & pointed in the direction of the nearest place still open- a Peterbilt truck stop about a half mile down a pitch-black road. He also made it a point to mention that if I attempted to hitchhike on main Highway 87, I would be arrested. This oh so tangible road brought with it intangible emotion after emotion as I grappled with triumph & failure, each still hanging in the balance. It had become very important outside of my own ambitions for me to make the plane & get home, & I was purely keen to not have loved ones worry about my wellbeing any longer. A frantic mixture of skating & speed-walking got me to the Peterbilt stop, & by the grace of God, the taxi company agreed to send out a driver for me & get me to the airport from this largely equidistant pick-up point. While I waited in freezing temperatures in an Eddie Bauer peacoat on the side of the road at the smallest hour, another group of U.S. Customs agents spotted me & sought to question my being there. They asked for identification & reasoning to which I was forthcoming. They wished me well & left.

Thirty minutes later, a portly man of sound intelligence & world view taxied me to the Plattsburgh International Airport (after having stopped at an ATM for cash to pay him). I entered the empty airport at 2:30 AM for my 2:59 AM flight with the driver’s assurance that I’ll be able to get right through TSA & onto the plane. More than sadly, he was mistaken. The Spirit Airlines attendant had vacated his post thirty minutes before takeoff to aid the onboarding crew, as per policy, of course. I rushed up to the barren TSA line & inquired about my chances of getting on the plane. They responded that the flight door had already been closed, & that it was now an impossibility for me to board. Needless to say, it was now impossible for me to get home on time, too. I felt I had fallen just short of a buzzer-beating victory that I had already affirmed to those who had expressed concern. I had begun to list the many variables that could have gone differently to get me on to that flight: 1) why didn’t my bus in Longueil show up or even notify me of cancellation? 2) why didn’t I deem the bus ride a lost cause sooner & get an Uber sooner? 3) why did we have to stop at an ATM so off-route when leaving Montreal? 4) Couldn’t they have held me & my driver up a bit less at the border? 5) Why couldn’t the taxi agency send someone a half-mile further than where they would eventually come to pick me up? 6) Why did this portly man with a good view of the world have to drive the speed limit? Would he have driven faster if I didn’t entertain his subjects? 7) Why the fuck does the agent at the airline counter leave the counter thirty minutes before a flight is scheduled to take off?

When the airline attendant did return, he was sympathetic to my cause & willing to help find a solution. Employing a similar program to the one used at the beginning of the trip, he was able to book the exact flight for the following day free of charge. This eased me greatly. Questions & doubt lingered, but I soon picked my chin up & hopped in another cab headed for the America’s Best Value Inn. This would be my impromptu safe haven on this frigid Friday night, & I checked in at 3:30 AM.

DAY 8 - 3/21 - 0 miles

Today is my sister’s & my aunt’s shared birthday. I wished dearly to be home by now next to my daughter, & to begin decompressing the week’s peaks & valleys. Yet, here I sit in the lobby of the cheap motel I spent last night in. I’ve been in the same chair since 1:15 PM, & it is now 12:49 AM (with the exception of a few bathroom/water breaks & a brief standing up to accept ordered wings & garlic bread). This unexpected & obligation-less window in time was spent formulating this transcript of a vacation I can confidently say will come to prove formative as life presses on. One not soon to be forgotten, nor the lessons gained therein forsaken. My flight to Las Vegas via Fort Lauderdale, Florida & Dallas, Texas is due to leave in a couple hours. With my lack of punctuality deeply ingrained, I resolve to close this memoir in saying that the constant struggle with mortality across Earth & in minds amidst these troubling waters was on full display in every city & each individual’s expression. Death and Disease on the tongues of the media & man the world over, but life itself (outside of the biological & inside of the metaphorical sense) is to be explored & discovered lovingly… never to be shied away from or merely sustained. With our collectively restricted circumstances reaching a fever pitch in what people can & cannot, should & should not, will & will not do, I resolve to digress & remain profoundly thankful for love, safety, health & home.

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erin-gilberts · 4 years ago

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Bc It’s such a good post will you answer all the cafe asks?

Yessss totally!

Vanilla Chai Latte : Are you in love?

Yes, wholeheartedly and unapologetically, I am.

My girlfriend and I have only been together for two months, but it’s one of those things where when you know, you know. I’ve been in relationships lasting upwards of a year where I still didn’t know at the end of them whether or not I was in love. Early on in the year, I was actually even having conversations with my mom about how I wasn’t sure I’d ever been in love; I had no concept of what that felt like. I didn’t feel like I was feeling what I was supposed to be in relationships. I wondered if I was aromantic and if I wasn’t meant to experience romantic love.

With her, I’ve realized everything love IS supposed to feel like, and I’ve realized I AM capable of feeling those feelings - I just hadn’t met the right person yet. My heart was waiting for her.

We daydream of the life we intend to build together, and it delights me to be able to wake up every day and choose her, again and again, as we run boldly and breathlessly into the future we now share. We totally u-hauled but we’re both so committed to blooming and becoming together; it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before despite having quite a bit of experience in relationships.

Flat White : Coffee or Tea?

Coffee. It feels more substantial to me with more ways to customize it exactly how you like it. I also just have a lot of really positive memories being in coffee shops! I’m currently obsessing over Starbucks’s seasonal salted caramel mocha.

Cappuccino : What’s your middle name?

Elizabeth! I was named after my mother and grandmother, so it’s the only part of my birth name I kept when I changed my name.

Mocha : Dream Job?

A famous professional organizer on the same level as Marie Kondo and Dorothy Breininger! They’re my inspiration and the reason I went into this kind of work. Also, the executive director of my own LGBT-focused nonprofit (which I have been, and I intend to be again!).

Pumpkin Spice : Dream car?

The super fancy bike I’ll use the day I ride in the AIDS LifeCycle? Haha, I don’t drive and I don’t intend to!

Jasmine Tea : If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

Ugh, if I could visit any place in the world right this moment, I’d choose to go back to Toronto in a heartbeat. I went there in 2015 for the Inside Out LGBT Film Festival and I LOVED that city. It was so fun and the people were so welcoming. Other than that? Moscow, because it’s where @googoogojob lives, or New York City, because I just learned Hook & Ladder 8 (the Ghostbusters firehouse) is a real place and I want to see it!

Old English : You’re stranded on an island, who do you bring with you?

Do I have a limit?? If I have a choice, I’m definitely bringing my mom, brother, maternal grandparents, best friend, best friend’s family, cat, and girlfriend! That’s like the minimum amount of people in my life I couldn’t go without.

Iced Chocolate : Do you have a crush on someone?

My girlfriend, who I continually redevelop a big gay crush on every day! But I feel like that’s not quite the spirit of what this question is asking, so - I also have a big gay crush on Kristen Wiig, which my girlfriend endlessly makes fun of me for! Like, to the point I named my cat Erin Gilbert.

Caramel Frappe : Favorite video game?

It’s a tie between Minecraft and Undertale. I swing wildly between playing Minecraft daily to not playing for months, but it never gets old. The sandbox nature of the game enables infinite creativity, and the low stakes make it both accessible to me (not a gamer) and relaxing. And Undertale with its story and unique mechanics remains to this day the game to inspire the biggest emotional response in me. I’ve thought about having, “Despite everything, it’s still you” tattooed.

Iced Lemon Tea : Favorite song/band?

My favorite songs of all time are ��The Greatest” by Sia and “I Know a Place” by MUNA, both of which were written in the aftermath of the Pulse shooting and can be interpreted as the process of rediscovering queer joy at the same time your community is constantly faced with tragedy and pain. They hit hard in a beautiful way as a hate crime survivor.

Iced Cafe Mocha : Favorite thing to do on rainy days?

I like to go out as soon as the storm passes and just walk downtown in the rain. The air always smells and feels so good; it clarifies me and I feel renewed. Walking in the light rain or before / after the storm always feels like breathing, really breathing, for the first time. It reminds me I exist and it reminds me that’s neat.

Hot Chocolate : Are you an affectionate person?

Yessssss oh my god. I live and breathe being affectionate and not even in a strictly romantic sense. I’m naturally an exuberant person and I delight in making people happy. My girlfriend would also say I engage in “cat behavior” with my demands to be held or touching constantly. XD

Caramel Macchiato : You’re travelling the entire world but you can only take one person with you. Who do you take?

My girlfriend @sweetmckinnon. Not only would we have the unprecedented opportunity to be gay in every country and continent, but we’re both writers, and we’d write an excellent book about these adventures!

Green Tea : How tall are you?

5’7.

Early Grey Tea : The inevitable Zombie Apocalypse is upon us! What’s your plan of action?

I’m rounding up everyone I care about and taking us to the nearest commune of marginalized people. We’ll be avoiding those uber-macho survivalist types like the plague, because their arrogance will 100% get everyone killed. At least marginalized communities would be more likely to understand working together and looking out for the community, not just yourself.

Mint Tea : How do you relax?

Indoor cycling is my drug of choice. It’s HARD to be mad or stressed when you’re exerting that intensely. I might also write self-indulgent fanfics or indulge in a little controlled chaos (I’m an acrylic pour and collage artist). And talking to my girlfriend, best friend, or mom always makes me feel better, too.

Vanilla Latte : Board games or drinking games?

I genuinely love board games and wish I had more people to play them with.

Iced Coffee : Do you like reading? If so, what’s your favorite book?

I like reading, but having ADHD has made it extremely hard to read entire books in recent years. My favorite book is probably The Radium Girls by Kate Moore. The author takes what’s already a horrific story and a dark chapter in American history and with her devastating writing style, humanizes each woman involved to the point it makes you ache to read knowing the inevitability of their fate. Anytime anyone asks me for a book recommendation, this is the book I suggest.

Italian Soda : Describe your dream date

My dream date would be after we’ve been together for a while - maybe on a date that’s special to us, like our anniversary, or maybe just on a random night because we feel like it, we have one of those super romantic dates like you see in the movies. We dress up super cute, go out to dinner and come home to a bedroom full of candles and rose petals on the floor, and every moment is spent just enjoying each other and what we have together in every way we can. <3

Sparkling Water : Describe what qualities you look for in a person

Passion - I’m an activist who became the executive director of their own nonprofit at the age of 16. I’m not going to mesh with someone who’s just going through the motions of life without any aspirations.

Flexibility - It’s a turnoff for me when someone is EXTREMELY committed to a very specific view of how their life is going to be. It tells me right away I’m going to have to continually contort myself to fit into their unbending path, because I accept I can’t predict the direction of my life with any degree of precision and I’m not rigid about it as a result.

Creative - I’m currently dating another writer and it’s the most fun I’ve ever had in a relationship. The quickest way to get us to pop off into a spirited debate is to get us started about story structure and characterization. We. Go. OFF. And could go off for days. Our shared creative passion gives us endless ground to connect and bond on.

Those are just a few, but definitely a few important ones for me!

Orange Juice : Have you ever had a valentine?

My first girlfriend, who I dated from 12-17, is the only valentine I’ve ever had. The timing of my relationships as an adult has never worked out for me to be partnered on Valentine’s Day. We weren’t super out about our relationship at the time and didn’t spend Valentine’s Day together, but I still have the love letters she sent me copied into my 7th grade diary, and I still have the antique gold heart necklace with enamel roses she gave me one year, too! Lots of lovely memories from that relationship.

Rose Hip Tea : Describe your first kiss

My first girlfriend and I were 12-13, cutting class in the bathroom because she was often bullied for her sexuality. She was having an especially rough day that day and I knew exactly where to find her. She kissed me out of the blue while I was comforting her and in all of my baby gay naivety, I hadn’t fully realized I was gay or that she liked me that way prior to that. Turns out I was and she did. We dated for five years.

Herbal Tea : You’re at a candle shop, what scented candle do you buy?

Oh, I’m going right to the bakery scent section. I’m not a huge fan of chocolate-scented candles, but vanilla? Christmas cookies? Gingerbread? Sign me the FUCK up.

Sandalwood is also one of my favorite scents, but depending on what it’s blended with, it can be hit or miss for me in candles.

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Free Falling, Chapter 10: Working as a Unit (Branjie) - writworm42

A/N: Last chapter, Brooke and Vanessa’s feud got to a ridiculously bad level, so their coworkers locked them in the Snoezelen room together until they kissed & made up. This chapter, the unit gets to work on planning the fundraiser.

This took a WHILE whew but I’m really happy with how it turned out. That being said, it wouldn’t have turned out the way it did without Holtzmanns kicking my ass and being the best beta, cheerleader, and brainstorm-buddy I could ask for <3

Also, writing A'keria take on entitled old white men is my new favourite pastime

As early as the next morning, the vibe around the unit had become unrecognizable from the way it had been for what seemed like forever. It wasn’t just that things had returned to normal— because well, they hadn’t.

They’d gotten even better.

The minute that Brooke and Vanessa had been released from the Snoezelen room by their colleagues, the team hit the ground running - and there had been no stopping them since. Brooke had to admit, in a way, that she was taken by surprise by how quickly, efficiently, and effectively everyone worked.

Sure, Ra’jah was an amazing team lead who wrangled patients and fellow nurses alike without so much as blinking, but who knew that she’d be just as fearless on the phone haggling with vendors? And Vanessa knew that Shuga spent most of her time with parents, but who knew that she’d be able to generate so many RSVPs and reach out to so many community members and partners so quickly? Or that Soju had connections with almost every major public event and performance venue in the city, making it easy for Brooke to book a space? Even A’Keria and Ariel pitched in, somehow convincing 1712’s family to cater the event with a wide menu full of nutritionally-balanced, gluten-free, allergen-free, vegetarian, vegan, halaal, and kosher options.

In fact, Brooke actually had very little to do except sign forms, balance the budget, and get administrative clearance for the event.

It was nice, knowing everyone had her back. Plus, it left her plenty of time for what was fast becoming her favourite hobby: watching Vanessa work.

Maybe it was the honeymoon phase, or maybe Brooke just got excited when others did. Maybe it was that Vanessa’s passion for her work really was infectious. Either way, the more Vanessa became involved with the fundraiser, the more Brooke found herself wishing that she’d known about occupational therapy sooner.

“I finished the floor plans for the booths, everything should be up to code and completely wheelchair accessible.” Vanessa beamed as she slammed a roll of blueprints down on Brooke’s desk, so giddy with excitement that she didn’t even notice that Brooke was taking a phone call. “Ain’t this great?”

It was, and Brooke had never been so eager to get off the phone to tell her so.

“I’m trying to build an adaptive dunk-tank,” Vanessa bounded up to Brooke with an excited flush across her face when she entered the office the next day, the smaller woman’s hair disheveled as if she’d been actively wrestling with prototype materials. “Can I liaise with the building maintenance and engineering staff to steal wood from them or what?”

Brooke said yes, and not even a day later, Vanessa gave her no reason to be disappointed, a fully functional tank ready to be painted and moved out to the venue, its builder ready to accept her thanks in the form of more than one enthusiastic kiss.

In fact, the more Vanessa let Brooke into her world, the prouder Brooke became of her. After all, how many people could say that their girlfriend’s job was encouraging kids like Kam to work on reaching by practicing reaching for prize stuffed animals, or helping a kid like Monet’s fine motor skills by practicing face-painting and readying her to be Soju’s face-painting assistant?

The best part, though, was that it gave Brooke an entirely new perspective not just on Vanessa’s job, but on Vanessa herself.

Vanessa wasn’t just compassionate–empathy came off of her in waves, her heart constantly worn on her sleeve for everyone to see from the moment she walked into the therapy gym. And she wasn’t just creative–she was resourceful, her mind fierce in its ability to look at nothing and make it into something in a few seconds flat. And even though Vanessa could be stubborn, even though she could be a bulldozing pain in the ass when an idea came into her head that she just couldn’t let go of, Brooke came to realize that Vanessa only ever brought her claws out to protect the people she loved.

Brooke really could see why everyone so dearly loved Vanessa right back. She could only hope that others would love her like that one day, too.

As the day of the fundraiser crawled closer, Brooke couldn’t help but feel like the unit was growing stronger and stronger every day with every task that got checked off their to-do list. The adrenaline was starting to get to her and Vanessa too, making them get even bolder, even closer than ever. It was as if their brains had become synced over late-night planning sessions with more than a few kisses shared between pages of blueprints.

“Brooke, that’s it.” Vanessa collapsed back into Brooke’s desk chair two days before the fundraiser, her whole body going slack as she relaxed into the obus-forme backrest she had insisted Brooke add onto its surface ( “trust me, baby, it’ll prevent lower back pain in the long run” ). “That was the last form. We ain’t got nothing left to do. We’re finished.”

Brooke looked over to the papers on her desk, scanning for any plan left unexamined, any to-do list item left unchecked, any i left undotted or t left uncrossed. Vanessa was right - she couldn’t find anything of the sort.

They were done. The event planning was finally finished.

“I can’t believe it.” Brooke laughed, sighing with relief. “One day ahead of schedule, too. Oh my God.”

Vanessa moved out of Brooke’s chair and gestured for Brooke to take her place. “I’m proud of you, baby.” She climbed up onto Brooke’s lap, running her fingers through Brooke’s hair. Brooke hummed as she melted back into the chair’s cushioned surface, melted into the smooth, gentle feeling of Vanessa’s hands against her scalp.

“All we have to do now is keep everything running smoothly.” she sighed contentedly. It was interesting–a few months ago, she was confident that everything had come together, that she’d finally fit as a piece in the unit’s puzzle.

Now, though, watching everyone work together so eagerly, so seamlessly , it was like a whole different vibe. They weren’t pieces making a picture anymore; they were the picture right off the box, the picture everyone else tried to make.

And the most satisfying part was, none of it was Brooke’s doing, not really. Not individually, at least.

It was everyone who made that possible. And they did it without even trying.

“What do you say I drive you home, baby?” Vanessa’s voice roused Brooke from the dozing state she had begun to slip into, the smaller woman’s hands still keeping time as they stroked through Brooke’s hair, “I think you’ve earned a good night’s sleep.”

Brooke yawned, a slow, milky sense of fatigue finally overtaking her as her face smoothed over into a peaceful smile.

“Sounds good to me.”

–

The shift in energy around the unit the next day was unmistakable. The air was giddy with excitement, and one could barely turn a corner in the hallway without hearing fundraiser or carnival fall from someone’s lips.

Volunteers asked each other if they were going to go, trading stories of what they were most excited about and whether or not they were manning a booth. Parents chatted excitedly about how they couldn’t wait and how it would be a nice break. Kids called their friends to make plans for getting together, many of them practically bursting with happiness at the thought of doing something that didn’t have the word therapy attached, something they could invite everyone outside the hospital to do with them.

The vibe was also leaking to other parts of the hospital. Volunteers passed out tickets to early-bird RSVPs and sold last-minute pre-entry in the lobby, and inpatients and outpatients alike spotted the flyers and caught wind of the talk, resolving to go to themselves in support of the kids.

The most palpable change, though, was in the staff. When Brooke walked into the unit that morning, everyone was crowded around Plastique’s desk with a large tray of cupcakes, already celebrating their success. When Brooke had started at Charles-Visage, she probably would have popped a lung yelling for their waste of time, resources, and disrespect for hospital policy. Now, though, she took a cupcake from the tray, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure when the rich taste of dark chocolate frosting melted onto her tongue.

They hadn’t even done it yet, technically, but they’d done it.

No matter how tomorrow worked out, Brooke was sure that in many other ways, they’d already won.

“Am I interrupting something, ladies?” A sneering voice suddenly burst the team out of their happy bubble, all of them turning to see a tall, older man in a neatly-pressed business suit standing behind them with his arms crossed, a half-crushed fundraiser flyer in his hand.

“Gary.” Brooke nodded curtly, a hush falling over the group as tension set in.

“No, no, please, continue, don’t let me stop this, hm, fun you all seem to love up here.” He sniffed derisively. “Enjoy it while it lasts, since apparently, it’s not going to last long.”

“Now, hold on, Geoffrey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Ra’jah challenged from behind Brooke, hand already on her hip. “You’re holding one of our flyers, you’ve clearly seen it.”

Gary, for his part, seemed nonplussed, though the twitch in his eye at being called Geoffrey was unmistakable. “I don’t know, girls, it just seems a bit, you know, desperate. ”

This time, Brooke didn’t have to bristle at the condescension–everyone behind her was already doing so.

“What do you mean, desperate?” She rolled her eyes as she said it.

“Well, I mean, we at high intensity outpatient never have to do this. Besides, it’ll never work.” he scoffed.

“Never work? What kinda nonsense you talkin’, Garfield?” Silky snorted, barely stifling her smile as Gary’s eye twitched again.

“A lump sum like a donation can only go so far. Eventually, the funds you raise will dry up, and by then, all you’ll have done is raised funds for a service that’s going under anyway. A waste of time and resources.” He shrugged.

If Brooke hadn’t been so seethingly mad, she would have been impressed at his ability to be staring fifteen grown women in the face and speaking to them all like children instead of like the educated professionals that treated them. But before Brooke could so much as think of something to spit back at him, he turned to her with an almost completely contemptful smile.

“Really, Miss Hytes, I would have thought you would understand finances a little better, given your position. Although, I suppose a bunch of kids wouldn’t notice inexperience, would they?”

That was it. Brooke felt something else take over her; her head began to spin and rage rose in her throat, indignation bubbling on her tongue. Her team?Inexperienced?

Not Yvie, who had been hired straight out of her placement because she’d achieved top marks and had made such a good impression on all the staff there. Not Plastique, who had everything Brooke needed done before Brooke even realized it was a task that was still outstanding. Certainly not Shuga, who had over twenty years to generate a mile-long resume that she kept as a record of all the different experiences she’d had, all the lessons she’d learned and brought to the unit in her present practice. How dare he, how fucking dare he.

She was just about to tear Gary a new one, when she noticed his gaze. He was only looking at Brooke, his eyes full of contempt and something dangerously near some kind of put-on pity.

He wasn’t talking about the team.

He was talking specifically about her.

This wasn’t the first time Brooke had been underestimated. It wasn’t the first time her efforts or her achievements had been discounted. It more than likely wouldn’t be the last, either. She was used to it–used to rising above it, used to showing rather than telling, used to proving her adversaries wrong and making them eat their own words. To watching them squirm and letting their discomfort be her victory prize.

But apparently the team took a different approach.

“Sorry, Gabriel, who the flipper do you think you’re flipping talking to?” Scarlet shouldered her way to the front of the group, standing practically right in Gary’s face. “There’s no one inexperienced here.”

“That’s right,” Honey spoke up, coming to stand right behind Scarlet, “Brooke is the best manager we’ve ever had, and I dare you to say anything different.”

“Well, in that case, I feel sorry for–” but Gary didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence before A’keria was in his face, her short stature suddenly stretched to about six feet just by virtue of the threat in her posture and edge to her words.

“You ain’t feel sorry for nothing or nobody. You think you’re oh-so-mighty, well let me tell you somethin’, Mr Gregory, at least here, we ain’t gotta rely on our daddy’s name to get our positions. Brooke ain’t no exception to that.” She began to walk forwards, effectively forcing Gary back a step with each word.

“Brooke works harder than anyone else in this hospital, and ever since she been here, we been doing better than ever. Now I know we ain’t no rich people’s playground, but what do you wanna bet that if we pulled up the numbers, we’d see an exponential growth here, while you sittin’ pretty at half a billion but been in a plateau there for ten years?” She takes a step closer. “‘Cause we got your number, Gordon, and it ain’t a good one. Brooke is a better manager than you’ll ever be, and if you want to see it for yourself, tickets to the fundraiser are ten dollars each. Now get the flunk out of our unit.”

“Reginald.” Gary growled in correction, but before he could say anything else, there were the sounds of wheels rolling fast on the ground, followed by the tell-tale squealing of a five-year-old having the time of her life and the loud protests of a grown occupational therapist who wasn’t supposed to be running a scooterboard race in the inpatient hallway.

This time, when Gary went down, Ra’jah had nothing to say about it.

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #hospital au #free falling #writworm42

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neondnp · 6 years ago

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my ii m&g experience ♥

(long rambling and pic spam ahead)

arriving + waiting in line

prior to and upon arriving at the venue, i was SO incredibly nervous to the point that it nearly overpowered my excitement. my heart had been racing all week and my stomach was in knots. i’d been anticipating this very day for almost a year and i was absolutely terrified that something would go wrong. i kept having thoughts like, “what if there’s a ton of unexpected traffic backed up for hours and i miss the meet and greet?” “what if there’s something wrong with my ticket??” “what if i forget something important and i’m denied access?” “what if i DIE before i get there!?” luckily, none of my delusional fears from my panicked state of mind came true and most of my anxiety disappeared after i was given my wristband.

meeting and conversing with the lovely new friends i made in line put me at enough ease that my ability to comprehend the intense reality of the situation was beginning to vanish. everything was too dreamlike to feel real. was i really mere minutes away from meeting my idols??

suddenly, everyone started screaming. i looked up and saw phil standing at the rail. i nearly had a damn heart attack!! that’s phil! he literally looks like an angel! i heard dan’s voice from the other corner and turned around to see him right above us! that’s dan!! he glows! o m g !! there they are!! in person! holy s*** that’s actually them!!! whatever they said to us either completely went over my head or was entirely forgotten because i don’t recall any of it. this was the most surreal moment of my life.

shoutout to the girl on twitter who filmed some of this and caught my reaction after they waved and left lmao

i guess this is what my mind being completely blown looks like??!?

my adrenaline was through the roof, but i was too stupefied to feel emotional yet. my throat was drying as the line in front of me gradually got shorter. the lack of air conditioning upstairs didn’t help. i was close enough to talk to marianne (a queen, btw) about what i wanted to give them. i had a letter from a friend and two of my ii themed d&p drawings that i made into magnets. she told me she would keep them and give them to dan and phil after the meet and greet. disappointing, but understandable. i wrote my name on the magnets but they won’t have a clue who i am. oh well. here’s what they look like:

before i knew it, it was my turn to meet them. a friend i met in line agreed to film my meet and greet but was too nervous to do so once we approached our turns. although it sucks to not have footage, i fully understand having anxiety. she’s very sweet and i’d never want to cause her any stress.

the actual meeting and greeting:

before i get into the personal details and talk about my interaction with them, i’ll describe their irl voices and appearances.

i’d say they sound exactly the same in person. they don’t necessarily look any different from how they do in pictures and videos, just more radiant; especially phil. his hair somehow looks even darker irl and there’s an indescribably beautiful contrast between his black hair, vibrant eyes, and pale skin. it makes him look otherworldly. his features are sharp. dan’s stubble is actually quite prominent, even from a distance. his features are soft. there’s not really much else to say about his appearance; he’s just as gorgeous in the flesh as he is on a screen. they were just as tall as i expected them to be so i wasn’t alarmed by their height. it did, however, feel different to look up at them and see them from a new (significantly lower) angle as opposed to seeing them from an eye-level camera angle. the same can be said about viewing them on stage from a close orchestra seat.

now, onto the good part! i wish i could remember more details, but meeting them was such a blur that i didn’t feel like it even happened at all until the next day (more on that later). most of my dreams are more vivid than this memory is. my brain was majorly lagging from the moment i was far enough ahead in line to be off the stairs, and my entire consciousness seemed to exist in some alternate dimension when i walked toward their direction to be greeted. i remember one or both of them saying, “hiii!” and dan saying “thanks for coming to see us!” i remember phil instantly opening his arms and asking if i wanted a hug. i think i said, “hi! yes i do!” i remember it being so much easier to talk to them than i thought it would be. words came naturally despite having very little awareness of what i was saying and—due to being in such a daze—completely forgetting to say any of the important things i’ve always wanted to tell them. they were both so warm, gentle, and welcoming. i was too out of it to realize this at the time, but looking back, they treated me like i was an old friend of theirs; like i was someone who mattered. that warms my heart. they genuinely care about making us feel comfortable and relaxed.

dan did most of the talking. i don’t remember what either of their hugs felt like, but i do remember dan giving me one of his awkward “dan hugs” lol. dan and i were both wearing striped shirts and he said that we were “totally coordinated with our stripes” which made me WAY happier than it should have, but oh man i was BEAMING. “we are!”

when phil asked if i’d like to have something signed, i took out a print of the two portraits i drew of them. “yes, can you sign my art please?” after handing the print to them, dan said, “oh my god did you draw these??” and i responded with something dumb like, “i did! it took me like my entire life but yeah!!” i really wish i could have seen them react to my drawings, but i didn’t think to look at their faces when i showed them. in fact, i’m not even sure if i made eye contact with them at all. they complimented me on my art but i don’t remember what they said. i'm not 100% certain, but i think dan called it incredible.

dan offered to take the selfie so i handed him my phone and we all got close and smiled for the camera. i noticed from other people’s meet and greet pics that phil had a tendency to lean his head in next to fans, but i’d of course forgotten about this detail. i was so weak later on when i saw how close our faces were in the group photo, w o w !! i asked if we could take individual pictures as well and dan said, “of course!”

this is the part i remember the most clearly. taking individual pictures was almost like hugging them again, only better because i was a little more aware—i was almost able to actually process it this time. looking at them you’d expect to feel nothing but firmness and bones, but they’re both delightfully squishy; especially dan. they’re two tall adorable teddy bears. dan fondly said, “thank you philip” when phil took our picture and it was the cutest thing. after the pictures were taken, i thanked them for about the tenth time. i remember saying “thank you” and “thank you so much” to almost everything they said and did. i probably would have thanked them if they accidentally stepped on my foot or dropped my phone. they told me to enjoy the show and i thanked them once more. i wished them a good show and at some point i think i said, “it was really nice meeting you.” we waved and said our goodbyes to each other.

and then it was over.

wait, it’s over. what the hell just happened?

i literally forgot everything on the spot.

everything happened so rapidly and it ended before i had even begun to take any of it in. i really wish i could have absorbed the moment more. i wish i could have said more. this may sound silly, but none of it felt real. it didn’t initially feel like, “aah i just met dan and phil!!” instead, it felt more like, “...did i really meet dan and phil? wouldn’t i have remembered meeting them if it really happened?” i was so disappointed in myself. how was i that spaced out the whole time? i expected a more emotional experience, but it was all so surreal that i wasn’t even in touch with reality, let alone with my emotions. i didn’t know how to react, so i blanked out into a strange semiconscious state and i hated myself for it.

i went on to realize that meeting them was indeed a very emotional experience; i just needed to fully recover from my daze for it to hit me. while most of my memory is still a blur, several small details came back to me the following day bit by bit. it was enough for me to look back on and miss. it took me days to recall everything i wrote about above. i did cry. i was emotionally impacted, just not right away. it had to catch up with me. meeting them was absolutely amazing. looking at my pictures and signed artwork elates me. i actually met dan and phil!

even though i didn’t say what i wanted to, i’m grateful that i managed to talk to them at all. i was so sure i’d either stumble over my words or end up speaking in my stupid high-pitched nervous voice. i was also afraid i’d cry in front of them and i didn’t. it went smoothly and i survived. i have a few regrets, but i still loved it. i loved them.

i’d do it again in a heartbeat.

yes i was very extra with the editing but these pics mean a lot to me and i wanted them to look the best they could

what i didn’t get to say:

@danielhowell @amazingphil thank you for inspiring so much creativity, motivation, and passion within me. you guys are the reason i wanted to start drawing again. you’re the reason why i stopped immediately giving up. you’re the reason i’ve met so many spectacular people and became part of such a diverse and extraordinary community. you guys give me a reason to smile. i love you, thank you for everything ♥ - alexis

#dan howell #phil lester #interactive introverts #ii nashville #daniel howell #amazingphil #meet and greet #personal #very very personal actually #it took several hours to write this and i cried through half of it #dnp #dan and phil #posts by alexis #*content #.txt #*mycontent

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thedeskside · 3 years ago

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The Deskside: Faith Coates

Welcome to The Deskside, our interview series where we connect with up and coming creative women who are carving out their own special spaces in this wide world. We talk about their careers, experience, personal dilemmas, creative strategies, and more.

Faith Coates leads a fully customized life, pre-pandemic.

The Stats

Name: Faith Coates

Company: The Artful Marketer & XYUandBeyond

Industry: Marketing and Strategic Planning

Find Her on Social:

Facebook

How did you make the leap?

I like to say my kids wouldn't run away from home so we did, which is very true. I am constantly astounded at how many young people just hang around their hometowns and don't grab any opportunity to travel.

Apart from that, I grew very tired of crappy jobs that only contracted you for a year and paid you nothing. In my last job over 4 years I raised over 2 million dollars in extra revenues, and my rewards were yearly contracts at pathetic wages. So when my husband took early retirement from the Post Office I decided to hell with this and we made the decision to go traveling. We didn't have a fantastic income by any stretch and there was no way to live in Canada on that tiny pension. So we decided to go and housesit and save ourselves mortgage and rent. We found traveling in Europe is just so damn cheap, I mean I can fly from London to Dublin for less than it costs to take a train from my hometown of London to Toronto.

As a result of that decision and my stay-at-home boredom, I decided to put my talents to use in helping other entrepreneurs. I specialize in working with socially-minded entrepreneurs who not only want to support themselves but give something back to the community. I work a lot with creative types - from chefs, travel bloggers, not for profits and social enterprises to artists who are starting a new business and need all the practical help with writing a strategic plan, marketing on social media, and just general business guidance.

I call myself an archi-anthropologist, in other words, I can see the big picture, the whole building, or beyond the box if you like, and all the thousands of details that are critical to developing and supporting a business culture.

My third sense can literally ‘see’ the way a business needs to strategically plan for success. I can take an entrepreneur's dreams and make them a reality.

What did you want to be when you grew up?

A writer.

What was your first job ever? Did it help you in your current role?

Working in a record store. I suppose it did in a way. I became fascinated by the people who shopped there—they were obsessed with music and it made for fascinating people watching. It also became very clear that the musicians and creative types that were ‘managing’ the place were completely out of their depth in business.

What made you want to start your business?

LOL boredom inspired me! I simply can't sit around on a beach or the house without something to do.

How do you explain what you do to others?

I just people I am a Storyteller, that usually gets them asking more questions at which point I explain that I although I have no particularly artistically creative talents myself that I work with those that are creative to help them build successful businesses.

How long have you been doing this?

Probably for over 20 years, I just didn't realize it was a talent until I needed to create work for myself. I have been giving away information for years without valuing the fact that information really is power.

What is a day for you like? What is your routine?

We get up around 6ish and Alan walks the dog and I get the animals breakfast for them (if there are pets at our housesit). After that Alan cooks breakfast and I sit down at my computer to work for a few hours. If it's a hot location (like we are now in Cyprus) we go for a swim either at the pool or find a quiet, easy access beach and go for a swim.

When we get back I go back to the computer for a few hours if necessary or simply relax outside and read a book. We often just go for a drive if we have a car available just to see the sights and explore new areas. I can't resist a museum or ancient monuments and sites. I also love a farmer's market and I am a true foodie at heart so exploring regional cuisines and taking food tours is heaven for me.

How do you end your workday?

Sometimes it feels like I don't, I am constantly reading or learning things and I love finding information and doing research. Others may call that work but I love it.

How did you go about starting your business?

I started writing a travel blog to keep our friends and family posted. From there it just sort of grew organically. I got asked to develop blogs for friends and family that had small businesses and I loved it so much I decided to try to do it for other people. So I started promoting my travel blog as a sort of portfolio of work. I got a lot of traffic from connecting to tourist groups and places through Twitter and Pinterest and it grew from there and then I started mentoring some online entrepreneurs who didn't realize they were entrepreneurs. So I started The Artful Marketer and now I work with a few clients that are establishing businesses that have at their hearts a social conscience and give back to the community.

What are your biggest responsibilities as an entrepreneur?

Understand your value and not compromise it.

Always be totally honest and transparent with your clients.

Do what you say you are going to do and to do it as well as you can.

Be ethical, reliable, and meet your deadlines.

Always tell the truth to new entrepreneurs and freelancers.

Give back and share as much as you can without jeopardizing your own business

What has been the hardest part of your transition?

Keeping my husband occupied and not ignoring him when I kept wrapped up in working.

What has been the easiest part of your transition?

Selling everything and becoming totally committed to minimalism. It is so incredibly freeing not owning anything and traveling with a carry-on.

What keeps you motivated?

The travel and the seeing new places that I never dreamed I would get the chance to, and getting to stay with and spoil other people's pets because as a traveler you don't get to have pets so for a little while we get to love someone else's furbabies.

How do you define success now?

Same as I always have, being your own person, speaking the truth, standing up for what is right, and giving back as much as you can.

How do you prevent burnout?

For me, I go and read a book. I love books that involve history, mystery, and good guys fighting bad guys James Rollins and Kathleen McGowan come to mind. When I want something different I turn to Kelley Armstrong a brilliant Canadian writer—she wrote the Werewolf series they turned into a TV show.

What do you think is the most important characteristic to have for someone who wants to take a similar career route to yours?

Willingness to learn new things and do your homework. Don't buy into the "dream it, believe it, and abundance will come mindset". If you want it you are going to have to work damn hard at it and sometimes you may get some luck that helps but mostly you will work your ass off to make it a success and a lot of times you will fail and that sucks, but you have to brush yourself off and get moving again. Persistence I think would sum it up.

What do you wish you knew before starting out on your own path?

One, I wish I had valued myself more. I ended up giving away my talents for free and making tons of money for other people.

Two, be careful who you trust and make sure you listen to your gut instincts.

Is there someone out there that you admire?

Not really work idols I respect and love women like Gloria Steinem, Maya Angelou, Bell Hooks, and Audre Lourde are all my heroes.

What is your favorite thing about your industry?

Meeting folks who are so excited and passionate about their business and want to inspire others.

What do you have on your desk or working space right now?

An iced coffee, my notebook and pens, and my computer and phone. Oh yes, and it’s damned hot here right now so I have a package of baby wipes that I just took out of the fridge for cooling down with.

What do you want other women in similar situations to know about your chosen career path?

If you have the desire to get out or are planning it - try to get out as soon as you can. Start getting rid of stuff, research all your options for traveling and living abroad or even another place. Look into housesitting, house swapping, co-work spaces, or even just getting an apartment, someplace you never thought possible, and move. Start building an online business or career now so you can make it move with you.

You may also like…

#interview #interview series #working women #entrepreneur

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peraliavia · 4 years ago

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Ꞅ·ıꝺ͛ċo-Ꞅŧıɩ̣̀ıɾ̈ıc͛!

Sɑıḋceo-Stıùırıċ

My exploration of the science of cybernetics convinced me that the so-called "subconscious mind" is not a mind ~t all, but a goal-striv- ing servo-mechanism consisting of the brain and nervous system, which is used and directed by the mind. The most usable concept is that man does not have two minds, but rather a mind (or consciousness), which operates an automatic, goal-striving machine. This automatic, goal- striving machine functions in much the same way as electronic servo- mechanisms function, but it is much more marvelous, much more complex, than any electronic brain, computer, or guided missile ever conceived by man. Pg15

PRESCRIPTION Begin collecting scrapbooks on persons, past or present, who exhibit both the qualities of character and personality and the life achievements to which you aspire. Select a different representative for each characteristic, each aspiration. Become the reigning expert in these peoples' lives by collecting and reading their biographies, autobiographies, articles about them, speeches made by them, others' analyses of them that can be found in books like Dr. Lundrum's, Napoleon Hill's, and others. Discover the almost uni- versal absence of predisposition (from genetics and often from their early environment and upbringing) for the personality they developed and the accomplishments of their lives. Ferret out the forces, thoughts, and influ- ences that actually shaped them. By making this your hobby, you will feed your imagination with valuable raw material that it can utilize to build the stronger, more goal-oriented self-image you require to achieve your life aspirations. Pg23 [Э·̈ꞇ͛· Жıꞇꞇ⸷ Ꞇılꝺ· Ꞅƿıııꞇoıı⸷ Ɑ̤ɒ̇̈ Ж͛ɑn⸷ Ᵹ��̈·ċ Ꝿoṅꭇ⸷ Ꝿɩ̇·ıı Cocꞇ̣̇·

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE Pick someone to thoroughly study for a month, to get so intimately famil- . iar with the way he or she thinks that you can sit down and have a conver- sation with the person and solicit advice and coaching in your imagination. Pg24

You, As Creator of Your Own life Experiences (1) Consciqus Mind Decision + (2) Imagination Communicates Goal/Target to (3) Self-Image = (4) "Work Order"lnstructions to Servo-Mechanism pg27

Of course, many people waste much of their imagination power, frittering it away on aimless daydreaming and fantasy, with no real appreciation for what it might do if applied purposefully. The sun's light, diffused, is gentle warmth; directed ' through a magnifying glass in a certain way, it is incendiary. pg28

Many writers and speakers, for example, tell me of giving their subconscious instructions about their need for a good anecdote, story, joke, or forgotten details of a story for a writing task or speech, then taking a nap, to awake with exactly the material they wanted "on their minds." pg33

You can give problem-solving or idea-getting tasks to your servo-mechanism, send it off on a search while you do other things, even while you sleep, and have it return with useful material you didn't know you knew and might never have obtained through conscious thought or worry. This becomes a common experience and great benefit for those of us who regularly rely on Psycho-Cybernetics. It occurs because the servo-mechanism has access to a much more expansive storehouse of information than the conscious mind. The famous composer Schubert is 'said to have told a friend that his own creative process consisted in "remembering a melody" that neither he nor anyone else had ever thought of before. Many creative artists, as well as psychologists who have made a study of the creative process, have been impressed by the similarity between creative inspi ration, sudden revelation, or intuition, and ordinary human memory. pg36

My own analysis of everything I've read about Albert Einstein is that he was a great practitioner of Psycho-Cybernetics. He acted as if a theoretical idea was a factual conclusion, then turned the "figuring out" over to his own servo-mechanism as well as to other "worker bees." I am convinced he connected with intelligence outside the realm of his own . stored data through his imagination. He was a brilliant target setter. His accomplishments stand as testament to an individual's opportunity to rise above and beyond his or her stored knowledge, education, experience or skill through the power of imagination. You can too. pg37

So What Exactly Is Psycho-Cybernetics? You might think of Psycho-Cybernetics as a collection of insights, principles, and practical methods that enable you to do all of the following: 1. Conduct an accurate inventory and analysis of the contents of your self-image. 2. Identify erroneous and restrictive programming imbedded in your self-image and systematically alter it to better suit your purposes. 3. Use your imagination to reprogram and manage your self-image. 4. Use your imagination in concert with your self-image to effectively communicate with your servo-mechanism, so that it acts as an Automatic Success Mechanism, moving you steadily toward your goals, including getting back on course when confronted with obstacles. 5. Effectively use your servo-mechanism as something like a giant search engine, to provide precisely the idea, information, or solution you need for any particular purpose-even reaching beyond your own stored data to obtain it. In a way, Psycho-Cybernetics is a communication system, for effectively communicating with yourself. pg39

PRESCRIPTION Read this chapter through at least three times per week for the first 21 days. Study it and digest it. Look for examples, in your experiences and in the experiences of your friends, that illustrate the creative mechanism in action. Think about limiting ideas about yourself that may be held firmly in the self-image, that may be the "cause" of "effects" you no longer desire. pg40

MENTAL·TRAINING EXERCISE Memorize the following basic principles by which your Success Mechanism operates. You do not need to be a computer genius or a neurophysicist to operate your own servo-mechanism, anymore than you 'have to be able to engineer an automobile in order to drive one or become an electrical engineer in order to turn on the light in your room. You do need to be familiar with the following, however, because, having memorized them, they will throw "new light" on what is to follow: 1. = AIM Your built-in success mechanism must have a goal or "target." This goal, or target, must be conceived of as "already in existence now," either in actual or pote!ltial form. It operates either (1) by steering you to a goal already in existence or (2) by "discovering" something already in existence. 2. = TRUST The automatic mechanism is tele-Iogical; that is, it operates on, or must be oriented to, "end results," goals. Do not be discouraged because the means may not be apparent. It is the function of the automatic mechanism to supply the means when you supply the goal. Think in terms of the end result, and the means will often take care of themselves. 3. = RELAX Do not be afraid of making mistakes or of temporary failures. Ail servo-mechanisms achieve a goal by negative feedback, or by going forward, making mistakes, and immediately correcting course. Automatic course correction is one of the many benefits of PsychoCybernetics. 4. = LEARN Skill learning of any kind is accomplished by trial and error, mentally correcting your aim after an error, until you achieve a "successful" motion, movement, or performance. After that, further learning and continued success are -accomplished by forgetting the past errors, and remembering the successful response, so that it can be "imitated." 5. = DO You must learn to trust your creative mechanism to do its work and not "jam it" by becoming too concerned or too anxious as to whether it will work or not, or by attempting to force it by too much conscious effort. You must let it work, rather than make it work. This trust is necessary because your creative mechanism operates below the level of consciousness, and you cannot "know" what is going on beneath the surface. Moreover, its nature is to operate spontaneously according to th,e present need. Therefore, you have no guarantees in 42 Chapter Twa advance. It comes into operation as you act and as you place a demand on it by your actions. You must not wait to act until you have proof. You must act as if it is there, and it will come through. "Do the thing and you will have the power," said Emerson. With all this in mind, select a "target"-whether that is a thinner, healthier you; a more confident, persuasive you; a you free of constant worry; a sales professional free of procrastination who begins each day with an organized to-do list and ends each day with it completed; or a golfer who hits perfectly . straight drives. Devote just ten or fifteen minutes every day to taking that mental picture from a vague idea to a good sketch to a finely detailed, fully fleshed out and colored vision that occurs to you exactly the same way whenever called upon. If it helps to write out descriptions, or to draw illus- . trations on paper, or to collect relevant pictures from magazines, do so. Just stick to ten- or fifteen-minute sessions, when you close your eyes to the outer world and open them only to this picture's continuing development. Try this little experiment for 21 days, and see what happens. pg41

Your nervous system cannot tell the difference between an imagined experience and a "real" one. Your nervous system reacts appropriately to what you think or imagine to be true. This phenomenon that can be produced as a practical joke or by a hypnotist on stage for entertainment is actually identical to, or illustrative of, the basic process that governs much of our behavior, and that can be taken ahold of and deliberately used to advantage. pg46

Dear Dr. Maltz, ... since I had the luxury of several weeks to prepare for our first meet ing that would take place behind closed doors, I immersed myself in prepara tion by studying everything I could obtain about this man. I read a book he had written, books and articles about him, watched video tapes of interviews with him from TV networks and programs, analyzed his biography, and ultimately produced a walking, talking replica of him in my imagination, so that I could carry on conversations with him. I did not have means to have someone else ably act as this person in actual role-play, as politicians do when preparing for debates, so instead I created an imaginary clone. Frankly I chose not to let any of my associates know exactly what I was doing, for fear of having the men in white coats called! My client might have had second thoughts about entrusting this high-wire negotiation to a someone who had an "imaginary man" he was talking with for hours each day. instru~tions Anyway, I followed the I found in your book, Psycho Cybernetics, as inspiration for my approach. After constructing this imaginary person, I then spent hours in what you call "The Theater of the Mind" actually playing out the meeting and dialogue we would have, myself the scriptwriter, director, lead actor and observer, which I found difficult at first, but less diffi cult as I stayed with it. Soon I found my imagined clone actively raising issues, questions and arguments on his own. Once I recall sitting in my easy chair, eyes closed, immersed in this imaginary meeting, catching myself losing my temper and pounding my fist on the arm of the chair! As this evolved into a 'mental movie' with a successful outcome, I transi tioned into re-playing that identical movie repeatedly. I even went so far, after many viewings, to write it out word for word, as if a courtroom transcriptionist was there to accurately record our conversation word for word. Here is what is remarkable: when the actual meeting took place, not only did it follow my script in order and flow, and not only did I voice things exactly as I had many times in the mental movie as you might expect, but he also per formed as if working from the very same script! pg56

Use Mental Pictures to Get a Better Job The late William Moulton Marston, well-known psychologist, recommended what he called "rehearsal practice" to men and women . who came to him for help in job advancement. If you have an important interview coming up, such as making an application for a job, his advice was: plan for the interview in advance. Go over in your mind all the various questions that are likely to be asked. Think about the answers you are going to give. Then rehearse the interview in your mind. Even if none of the questions you have rehearsed come up, the rehearsal practice will still work wonders. It gives you confidence. And even though real life has no set lines to be recited like a stage play, rehearsal practice will help you to ad lib and react spontaneously to whatever situation you find yourself in, because you have practiced reacting spontaneously. Pg57

The Final Word on Imagination Practice It doesn't matter what religious, spiritual, or philosophical background or viewpoint you come from. It doesn't matter how you describe it: imagination practice, visualization, mental picturing, or using my ter minology, Theater of your Mind. "What's important is that you do it! If you will choose a target to apply this to, and give it a solid, honest 21-day trial, you will be so gratified with the results that you will cer tainly choose to continue using this tool for the rest of your life, and benefit enormously by doing so, just as countless athletes, entertain ers, doctors, lawyers, business leaders, and· others have before you. Here are a few exercises to get you started: MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE Your present self-image was built on your own imagination pictures of yourself in the past, which grew out of interpretations and evaluations you placed on experience. Now you are to use the same method to build an adequate self-image that you previously used build an inadequate one. Set aside a period of 30 minutes each day where you can be alone and undisturbed. Relax and make yourself as comfortable as possible. Now close your eyes and exercise your imagination. Many people find they get better results if they imagine themselves sitting before a large motion picture screen and imagine that they are seeing a motion picture of themselves. The important thing is to make these pictures as vivid and as detailed as possible. You want your mental pictures to approximate actual experience as much as possible. The way to do this is to pay attention to small details, sights, sounds, objects, in your imagined environment. Details of the imagined environment are all-important in this exercise because, for all practical purposes, you are creating a practice experience. And if the imagination is vivid enough and detailed enough, your imagination practice is equivalent to an actual experience, insofar as your nervous system is concerned. The next important thing to remember is that during these 30 minutes you see yourself acting and reacting appropriately, successfully, ideally. It doesn't matter how you acted yesterday. You do not need to try to have faith you will act in the ideal way tomorrow. Your nervous system will take care of that in time-if you continue to practice. See yourself acting, feeling, being as you want to be. Do not say to yourself, "I am going to act this way tomorrow." Just say to yourself, "I am going to imagine myself acting this way now-for 30 minutes today." Imagine how you would feel if you were already the sort of personality you want to be. If you have been shy and timid, see yourself moving among people with ease and poise and feeling good because of it. If you have been fearful and anxious in certain situations, see yourself acting calmly and deliberately, acting with confidence and courage', and feeling expansive and confident because you are. This exercise builds new "memories" or stored data into your midbrain and central nervous system. It builds a new image of self. After practicing it for a time, you will be surprised to find yourself "acting differently," more or less automatically and spontaneously, without trying. This is as it should be. You do not need to take thought, or try, or make an effort now in order to feel ineffective and act inadequately. Your present inadequate feeling and doing are automatic and spontaneous, because of the memories, real and imagined you have built into your automatic mechanism. You will find it will work just as automatically upon positive thoughts and experiences as upon negative ones. Step One: Take pad and pen and write out a outline or description of the mental movie you intend to construct, experiement with, develop, and view in the Theater in the Mind. Step Two: Set aside 30 minutes a day, preferably at the same time each day, to find a quiet, private place, relax, close your eyes, enter your Theater, and begin playing, editing, replaying your movie. Step Three: Gradually "massage" your movie so that its ''star'' (you) performs exactly as you desire, and achieves the experience and results you desire. Strive to arrive at this point within the first 10 days. Step Four: For the remaining 11 days, play and enjoy that movie repeatedly without change. Pg66

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE (To be practiced for at least 30 minutes daily) Seat yourself comfortably in an easy chair or lie down on your back. Consciously "let go" the various muscle groups as much as possible without making too much of an effort of it. Just consciously pay attention to the various parts of your body and let go a little. You will find that you can always voluntarily relax to a certain degree. You can stop frowning and let your forehead relax. You can ease up a little on the tension in your jaws. You can let your hands, your arms, your shoulders, your legs become a little more relaxed than they are, Spend about five minutes on this and then stop paying any attention to your muscles. This is as far as you are going to try to go by conscious control. From here on you will relax more and more by using your creative mechanism to automatically bring about a relaxed condition. In short, you are going to use "goal pictures," held in your imagination and let your automatic mechanism realize those goals for you. Mental Picture 1 In your mind's eye see yourself lying stretched out upon the bed. Form a picture of your legs as they would look if made of concrete. See yourself lying there with two very heavy concrete legs. See these very heavy concrete legs sinking far down into the mattress from their sheer weight. Now picture your arms and hands as made of concrete. They alsp are very heavy and are sinking down into the bed and exerting tremendous pressure against the bed. In your mind's eye see a friend come into the room and attempt to lift your heavy concrete legs. He takes hold of your feet and attempts to lift them. But they are too heavy for him. He cannot do it. Repeat this process with your arms, neck, etc. How to Dehypnotize Yourself from False Beliefs 81 Mental Picture 2 Your body is a big marionette doll. Your hands are tied loosely to your wrists by strings. Your forearm is connected loosely by a string to your upper arm. Your upper arm is connected very loosely by a string to your shoulder. Your feet, calves, thighs are also connected together with a single string. Your neck consists of one very limp string. The strings that control your jaw and hold your lips together have slackened and stretched to such an extent that your chin has dropped down loosely against your chest. All the various strings connecting the various parts of your body are loose and limp, and your body is just sprawled loosely across the bed. Mental Picture 3 Many people will find this the most relaxing of all. Just go back in memory to some relaxing and pleasant scene from your past. There is always some time in every one's life when he felt relaxed, at ease, and at peace with the world. Pick out your own relaxing picture from your past and call up detailed memory images. Yours may be a peaceful scene at a mountain lake where you went fishing. If so, pay particular attention to the little incidental things in the environment. Remember the quiet ripples on the water. What sounds were present? Did you hear the quiet rustling of the leaves? Maybe you remember sitting perfectly relaxed and somewhat drowsy before an open fireplace long ago. Did the logs crackle and spark? What other sights and sounds were present? Maybe you choose to remember relaxing in the sun on a beach. How did the sand feel against your body? Could you feel the warm relaxing sun, touching your body, almost as a physical thing? Was there a breeze blowing? Were there gulls on the beach? The more of these incidental details you can remember and picture to yourself, the more successful you will be. Daily practice will bring these mental pictures or memories clearer and clearer. The effect of learning will also be cumulative. Practice will strengthen the tie-in between mental image and physical sensation. You will become more and more proficient in relaxation, and this in itself will be "remembered" in future practice sessions. pg81

Then ask yourself these four questions: 1. Is there any rational reason for such a belief? 2. Could it be that I am mistaken in this belief? 3. Would I come to the same conclusion about some other person in a similar situation? 4. Why should I continue to act and feel as if this were true if there is no good reason to believe it? Don't just pass these questions by casually. Wrestle with them. Think on them. Get emotional about them. Can you see that you hard have cheated yourself and sold yourself short, not because of a "fact," but only because of an irrational and erroneous belief? If so, to try arouse some indignation or even anger. Indignation and anger can sometimes act as liberators from false ideas. Alfred Adler "got mad" at himself and at his teacher, and was enabled to throw off a negative definition of himself. This experience is not uncommon. Pg92

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISES: 1. Have a heart-to-heart talk with yourself and honestly assess whether you have any problems you're no longer attempting to resolve only because you have accepted as "fact" that they cannot be solved, whether you are living out circumstances in your life that are unfulfilling or even demeaning to you because you have accepted as fact that you cannot alter them. Reconsider! Apply current rational thought to challenge these beliefs and then use your imagination to "shop around" and try out new and different possibilities. Consider the questions I suggested in this chapter about each of these "facts" you uncover in your heart-to-heart: "Why do I believe that I can't?" Then ask yourself, "Is this belief based on an actual fact or on an assump tion or false conclusion?"· "Is there any rational reason for such a belief?" "Could it be that I am mistaken in this belief?" "Would I come to the same conclusion about some other person in a simi lar situation?" "Why should I continue to act and feel as if this were true if there is no good reason to believe it?" 2. Out of all this rational thought, you may identify a new target (goal) to assign to your Automatic Success Mechanism. If so, review the exercises provided at the end of each of the prior chapters as means of getting started. Chapter Five Summary Checklist of The Uses of Rational Thought 1. It is the job of rational, conscious thought to examine and analyze incoming messages, to accept those that are true and reject those that are untrue. 2. It is the job of the conscious rational mind to form logical and correct conclusions. 3. It is the job of conscious rational thought to decide what you want, select the goals you wish to achieve, and concentrate on these rather than on what you do not want. 4. It is the job of your conscious mind to pay strict attention to the task at hand, to what you are doing and what is going on around you, so that these incoming sensory mes sages can keep your automatic mechanism currently advised of the environment and allow it to respond spontaneously pg99

He has made a point of mastering the application of Psycho-Cybernetics for this purpose, so that he can go to sleep at night, then awake and instantly sit at his computer keyboard and "pour out" the writing work that has been done "for him" as he slept. While others tell of writing being enormously stressful and difficult, for him is virtually free of stress. ~t Dan Kennedy says he was first inspired to attempt this by my writing about Bertrand Russell's experience in the original edition of this book. Bertrand Russell said: I have found, for example, that, if I have to write upon some rather diffi cult topic, the best plan is to think about it with very great intensity-the greatest intensity of which I am capable---':for a few hours or days, and at the end of that time give orders, so to speak, that the work is proceed to underground. After some months I return consciously the topic and to find that the work has been done. Before I had discovered this technique, I used to spend the intervening months worrying because I was making no progress; I arrived at the solution none the sooner for this worry, and the 'intervening months were wasted, whereas now I can devote them to other pursuits." (Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness) pg104

Five Prescriptions for Freeing Your Creative Machinery 1. Once a decision is made, focus on supporting it, not second guessing it. In the original book, I told of the business executive with a pen chant for gambling on roulette, who gave me the idea: "Do your wor rying before you place your bet, not after the wheel starts turning. " I happened to quote to him the advice of William James, men tioned earlier, to the effect that emotions of anxiety have their place in planning and deciding on a course of action, but that, "When once a decision is reached and execution is the order of the day, dismiss absolutely all responsibility and care about the outcome. Unclamp, in a word, your intellectual and practical machinery, and let it run free." Several weeks later he burst into my office to report, "It hit me all of a sudden," he said, "during a visit to Las Vegas. I've been trying it and it works." "What hit you and what works?" I asked. That advice of William James. It didn't make too much of an impression when you told me, but while I was playing roulette it came back to me. I noticed any number of people who appeared not worry at all before to placing their bets. Apparently odds meant nothing to them. But once the wheel started turning, they froze up, and began to worry whether their number would come up or not. How silly, I thought. If they want to worry or be concerned or figure odds, the time to do that is before the decision is made to place a bet. There is something you can do about it then, by thinking about it. You can figure out the best odds possible, or decide not to take the risk at all. But after the bets are placed and the wheel starts turning, you might as well relax and enjoy it. Thinking about it is not going to do one bit of good, andis wasted energy. Then I got to thinking that I myself had been doing exactly the same thing in my business and in my personal life. I Qften made decisions or embarked on courses of action, without adequate preparation, without considering all the risks involved and the best possible alternative. But after I had set the wheels in motion, so to speak, I continually worried over how it would come out, whether I had done the right thing. I made a decision right then that in the future I would do all my worrying, all my conscious thinking, before a decision was made, and that after making a decision, and setting the wheels in motion, I would "dismiss absolutely all care or responsibility about the outcome." Believe it or not, it works. I not only feel better, sleep better, and work better, but my business is run ning much smoother. I also discovered that the same principle works in a hundred different lit tle personal ways. For example, I used to worry and fume about having to go to the dentist and other unpleasant tasks. Then I said to myself, "This is silly. You know the unpleasantness involved before you make the deci sion go. If the unpleasantness is all that important to cause so much to concern, and not worth the worry involved, you can simply decide not to go. But, if the decision is that the trip is worth a little unpleasantness, and a definite decision is made to go-then forget about it. Consider the risk before the wheel starts turning." I used to worry the night before I had to make a speech at a board meeting. Then I said to myself, "I'm either going to make the speech or I'm not. If the decision is to make it, then there's no need in considering not making it-or trying to mentally run away from it." I have discovered that much nervousness and anxiety is caused by mentally trying to escape or run away from something that you have decided to go through with physically. If the decision is made to go through with it-not to run away physically-why mentally keep consid ering or hoping for escape. I used to detest social gatherings and go along only to please my wife, or for business reasons. I went, but mentally I resisted it, and was usually pretty grumpy and uncommunicative. Then I decided that if the decision was to go along physically, I might as well go along mentally-and dismiss all thoughts of resistance. Last night I not ' only went to what I would formerly have called a stupid social gathering, but I was surprised to find myself thoroughly enjoying it. One of the many conversations I had with business leaders after the publication of Psycho-Cybernetics focused on this story. I was con ducting a seminar for the giant insurance corporation, Metropolitan How to Relax and Let Your Automatic Success Mechanism Work for You Life, and on a break, one of the top executives mentioned the story of the man who worried too much after his decisions to me, and he said something I believe to be profoundly liberating: "Dr. Maltz, the truth is that there are few inherently right deci sions or wrong decisions. Inst6ad, we make decisions, then make them right. That's what leadership is all about." The chairman of the world's largest ad agency, McCann Erickson, Nina DiSesa, was named by Fortune Magazine (in 2000) as one of the 50 most powerful women in American business. "You can always correct a poor decision, but if you do nothing, you can never get the time back," she says. PRESCRIPTION Strive for greater decisiveness and finality in small matters, to build the evi dence shown to your self-image that you are the kind of person who makes If a firm decision, then ceases to worry over it. in a restaurant with friends, do not be the person who agonizes over choices, even changes his mind after If ordering. Pick something and close the menu. shopping, pick and buy. MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE Consider creating a useful little mental picture or mental movie to use, immediately after reaching a decision, whether an important business or personal decision, choosing the golf club to use, or picking a tie to wear with your tan sports jacket. In the 2000 Presidential elections, in a differ ent context, Vice-President AI Gore became so famous for overusing the word "lock box" that television comedy programs and imitators had weeks of fun with it. "Lock box" is a good visualization for this: As soon as you make a decision, see yourself taking all the information, concerns, and pros and cons you sifted through to make it in a big pile into a storage room, putting it alUnto a large box or container of some kind and locking it shut. Then see yourself taking a sheet of paper on which the decision is written, sealing it in an envelope, marking "Done" with today's date and time, then putting the envelope in the "Done" file cabinet drawer and locking it away as well. Finally, see yourself brushing your hands off like a man does after doing some kind of satisfying manual labor, turning out the light in the storage room, and walking out of the dark room into sunlight, like the ship sailing from dark into light in the painting given to me by Salvador Dali. After viewing this movie a few times, for the sake of speed, you can cut it up into stills or slides and view them quickly-click, click, click, click. 2. The secret of focusing only on the here and now. There is a need to consciously consider goals, evaluate progress; and construct plans, but such thinking needs to occur at appropriate times and places, set just for such purposes, The rest of the time, con sciously practice the habit of "taking no anxious thought for tomor row" by giving all your attention to the present moment. Your creative mechanism cannot function or work tomorrow-or even a minute from now. Only right now. It can only function in the present-today, the present moment. Make plans for tomorrow. But don't try to live in tomorrow or in the past. Creative living means responding and reacting to environment spontaneously. Your creative mechanism can respond appropriately and successfully to present environment only if you have your full attention upon present environment and give it information concerning what is happening now. Plan all you want to for the future. Prepare for it. But don't worry about how you will react tomorrow or even five minutes from now. Your creative mechanism will react appropriately in the now if you pay attention to what is happening now. It will do the same tomorrow. It cannot react successfully to what may happen, only to what is happening. 1 once dined with a president of a large corporation in a very pricey gourmet restaurant, He wolfed his dinner down quickly and still had a plate full of food. When 1 asked him about it he said, "I never taste food. I'm too busy thinking about other, more important things." Well, he might as well get his nutrients from a pill. Someday 1 imagine it may come to that. But there are two troubling things about Mr. Dynamo's approach: First, he is denying himself the great pleasure of a fine dining experience, of sipping the wine, tasting each morsel, relishing how perfectly prepared is the cut of meat, how crisp and fresh the tomato. One can assume he misses out on many other sensual enjoyments of life as well. Second, his preoccupation is a con ceit, not a" genuine display of superior commitment, executive discipline, entrepreneurial zeal, or time efficiency. People cannot function at their best if moving at the fastest possible speed aU the time, with out relief or recovery. It is a safe wager that he rarely is in the moment, fully focused and involved with only one thing or one person, and while that may impress others with his busy-ness, it will not lead to maximum utilization of his wisdom and capability. The following morning, based on my diagnosis, I called my broker and sold the shares of stock I held in the company captained by this fellow. You will have a far more enjoyable life and be a far more effective individual if you learn to mentally s-l-o-w yourself down enough to savor your expenences. MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE After you have left a place, such as a restaurant or shop, stop and see how much of it you can recall and describe in copious, exacting detail. In order to sharpen your powers of observation for this challenge, you will auto matically slow yourself down and be more "there" (wherever you are). If you have read the accounts of the fictional (yet fact-based) detective Sherlock Holmes, you know that he demonstrated remarkable observatory powers, recalling and analyzing the minutest details. In one of these stories, the author, Arthur Conan Doyle, has the Dr. Watson character say to Holmes: "It seems obvious your faculty of observation and your peculiar facility for deduction are due to your own systematic training." Doyle knew that the ' person he modeled Holmes after, his pathology professor at Edinburgh University, was well-known for his extraordinary powers of observation and had taken great pains to train his mind to capture all the minute detail of a scene, an experience, or a person. 3. Try to do only one thing at a time. Another cause of confusion, as well as the resulting feelings of nervousness, hurry, and anxiety, is the absurd habit of trying to do many things at one time. The student studies and watches TV simul taneously. The businessperson, instead of concentrating on and only trying to "do" the one letter that he is presently dictating, is thinking in the back of his mind of all the things he should accomplish today, or perhaps this week, and unconsciously trying mentally to accomplish them all at once. The habit is particularly insidious because it is seldom recog nized for what it is. When we feel jittery, worried, or anxious in think ing of the great amount of work that lies before us, the jittery feelings are not caused by the work, but by our mental attitude, which is, "I ought to be able to do this all at once." We become nervous because we are trying to do the impossible, and thereby making futility and frustration inevitable. The truth is that we can only do one thing at a time. Realizing this, fully convincing ourselves of this simple and obvious truth, enables us to mentally stop trying to do the things that lie next and to concentrate all our awareness, all our responsiveness, on this one thing we are doing now. When we work with this attitude, we are relaxed, we are free from the feelings of hurry and anxiety, and we are able to concentrate and think at our best . . If you watch much football on television, you have seen receivers drop balls that pass right through their hands, and hear the commen tators explain that "he was running before he caught the ball" or "he must have heard footsteps." In other words, instead of being totally focused on catching and securing the ball, he was worrying about other players converging on him, where he would go once he had the ball, even prematurely moving his body away from the ball. There's a relatively new word for this in the occupational world-"multitasking" -and for most people, most of the time, it is an empty conceit. Be careful whom you emulate, the herd or the leader. Top performers stick with focus rather than multitasking. While many run-of-the-mill sales professionals talk with their clients on their cell . phones while driving through traffic or even walking down a busy, noisy street, you will not catch the top sales pro doing that; you will find that when she has to make such a call, she does so in a place and at a time where she can give it 1 00% of her attention. While many run-of-the-mill executives permit continuous interruptions by phone, intercom, or walk-ins while they are meeting with someone or review ing important information, the most successful executives I know tol erate no such chaos. The Lesson of the Hourglass Dr. James Gordon 9ilkey preached a sermon in 1944 called "Gaining Emotional Poise," which was reprinted in Reader's Digest and became a classic almost overnight. He had found, through many years of counseling, that one of the main causes of breakdown, worry, and all sorts of other personal problems was the bad mental habit of feeling that you should be doing many things now. Looking at the hourglass on his desk, he had an inspiration. Just as only one grain of sand could pass through the hourglass at a time, so could we only do one thing at a time. It is not the job, but the way we insist on thinking of the job that causes the · trouble. Most of us feel hurried and harried, said Dr. Gilkey, because we form a false mental picture of our duties, obligations, and responsibilities. There seem to be a dozen different things pressing in on us at any given moment; a dozen different things to do; a dozen different problems to solve; a dozen different strains to endure. No matter how hurried or harried our . existence may be, said Dr. Gilkey, this mental picture is entirely false. Even on the busiest day the crowded hours come to us one moment at a time; no matter how many problems, tasks, or strains we face, they always come to us in single file, which is . the only way they can come. To get a true mental picture, he suggested visualizing an hourglass, with the many grains of sand dropping one by one. This mental picture will bring emotional poise, just as the false mental picture will bring emotional unrest. Another similar mental device that I have found very helpful to my patients is telling them: Your success mechanism can heIp you do any jo.b, perform any task, solve any problem. Think of yourself as "feeding" jobs and problems to your success mechanism as a scientist "feeds" a prob.lem to an electronic brain. The "hopper" to your success mechanism can handle only one job at a time. Just as an electronic brain cannot give the right answer if three different problems are mixed up and fed in at the same time, neither can your own success mechanism. Ease off on the pressure. Stop trying to cram into the machinery more than one job at a time. PRESCRIPTION Purchase an hourglass and place it where you work most of the time, where it will catch your . eye often. Place a small placard on it or next to it, on which you have written "One Grain at a Time." 4. Sleep on it. If you have been wrestling with a problem all day without making any apparent progress, try dismissing it from your mind and putting off making a decision until you've had a chance to "sleep on it." Remember that your creative mechanism works best when there is not too much interference from your conscious "I." In sleep, the creative mechanism has an ideal opportunity to work independently of conscious interference, if you have previously started the wheels turning. Remember the fairy story about the Shoemaker and the Elves? The shoemaker found that if he cut out the leather, and laid out the patterns before retiring, little elves came and actually put the shoes together for him while he was sleeping. Many creative workers have used a very similar technique. Mrs. Thomas A. Edison has said that each evening her husband would go over in his mind those things which he hoped to accomplish the next day. Sometimes, he would make a list of the jobs he wanted to do and problems he hoped to solve. Edison's well-known "cat-naps" were far more than mere respites . from fatigue. Joseph Rossman, in the Psychology of Invention, says, "\Vhen stumped by something, he would stretch out in his Menlo workshop and, half-dozing, get an idea from his dream mind to help him around the difficulty." Henry Ward Beecher once preached every day for 18 months. His method? He kept a number of ideas "hatching" and each night before retiring would select an "incubating idea" and "stir it up" by thinking intensely about it. The next morning it would have fitted itself together for a sermon. . 5. Relax while you work. MENTAL 'TRAINING EXERCISE In Chapter Four you learned how to induce physical and mental relaxation while resting. Continue with the daily practice in relaxation, and you will become more and-more proficient. In the meantime, you can induce something of that relaxed feeling and the relaxed attitude, while going about your daily activities, if you will form the habit of mentally remembering the nice relaxed feeling that you induced. Stop occasionally during the day-it need only take a moment-and remember in detail the sensations of relax ation. Remember how your arms felt, your legs, back, neck, face. Sometimes forming a mental picture of yourself lying in bed or sitting relaxed and limp in an easy chair helps to recall the relaxed sensations. Mentally repeating to yourself several times, "I feel more and more relaxed" also helps. Practice this remembering faithfully several times each day. You will be surprised at how much it reduces fatigue and how much bettet you are able to handle situations. By relaxing and maintaining a relaxed attitude, you remove those excessive states of concern, tension, and anxiety, which interfere with the efficient operation of your creative mech anism. In time, your relaxed attitude will become a habit, and you will no longer need to consciously practice it. pg109

I then suggested that he memorize a saying of Epictetus, which has always been a favorite of mine: "Men are disturbed," said the sage, "not by the things that happen, but by their opinion of the things that happen." Happiness versus Unhappiness = Facts versus Opinions pg122

The essence of Psycho-Cybernetics is the accurate, calm, and ultimately automatic separation of fact from fiction, fact from opinion, actual circumstance from magnified obstacle, so that our actions and reactions are solidly based on truth, not our own or others' opinions. pg123

PRESCRIPTION Form the habit of reacting aggressively and positively toward threats and problems. Form the habit of keeping goal-oriented all the time, regardless of what happens. Do this by practicing a positive aggressive attitude, both in actual everyday situations and in your imagination. See yourself in your imagination taking positive, intelligent action toward solving a problem or reaching a goal. See yourself reacting to threats not by running away or evading them, but by meeting them, dealing with them, grappling with them in an aggressive and intelligent manner. "Most people are brave only in the dangers to which they accustom themselves, either in imagination or practice," said Bulwer-Lytton, the English novelist. Pg124

The word "habit" originally meant a garment or clothing. We still speak of riding habitS and habil iments. This gives us an insight into the true nature of habit. Our habits are literally garments worn by our perso.italities. They are not accidental or happenstance. We have them because they fit us. They are consistent with our self-image and our entire personality pattern. When we consciously and deliberately develop new and better habits, our self-image tends to outgrow the old habits and grow into the new pattern. pg131

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE Habitually, you put on either your right shoe first or your left shoe. Habitually, you tie your shoes by either passing the right-hand lace around the left-hand lace, or vice versa. Tomorrow morning determine which shoe you put on first and how you tie your shoes. Now, consciously decide that for the next thirty days you are going to form a new habit by putting on the other shoe first and tying your laces in a different way. Now, each morning as you decide to put on your shoes in a certain manner, let this simple act serve as a reminder to change other habitual ways of thinking, acting, and feeling throughout that one day. Say; to yourself as you tie your shoes, "I am beginning the day in a new and better way." Then consciously decide that throughout the day: 1. I will be as cheerful as possible. 2. I will act .a little more friendly toward other people. You Can Acquire the Habit of Happiness 133 3. I am going to be a little less critical and a little more tolerant of other people, their faults, failings, and mistakes. I will place the best possible interpretation on their actions. 4. Insofar as possible, I am going to act as if success were inevitable, and I already am the sort of personality I want to be. I will practice acting like and feeling like this new personality. . 5. I will not let my own opinion color facts in a pessimistic or negative way. 6. I will practice smiling at least three times during the day. 7. Regardless of what happens, I will react as calmly and as intelligently as possible. 8. I will ignore completely and close my mind to all those pessimistic and negative "facts" that I can do nothing to change. Simple? Yes. But each of these habitual ways of acting, feeling, and thinking has beneficial and constructive influence on your self-image. Act them out for thirty days. Experience them, and see if worry, guilt, hostility have . not been diminished and if confidence has not been increased. p133

Sense of direction Understanding Courage Charity (compassion) Esteem Self-confidence Self-acceptance pg136

PRESCRIPTION Earlier in this book we covered a number of ways to put your imagination to work, to come up with a new or more clearly defined target or targets for you focus on, and assign your Automatic Success Mechanism. This is a to good time to do so. Get yourself a goal worth working for. Better still, get yourself a Decide what you want out of a situation. Always have project~ something ahead of you t~ look forward to-.:.-to · work for and hope for. Look forward, not backward. Develop a "nostalgia for the future" instead of for the past. The nostalgia for the future can keep you youthful. Even your body doesn't function well when you stop being a goal striver and have nothing to look forward to. This is the reason that very often a person dies shortly after retirement. When you're not goal-striving, not looking for ward, you're not really living. In addition to your purely personal goals, have at least one impersonal goal or cause, which you can identify yourself with. Get interested in some project to help your fellow man, not out of a sense of duty, but because you want to. Pg137

PRESCRIPTION Look for and seek out true information concerning yourself, your problems, other people, or the situation, whether it is good news or bad news. Adopt the motto, "It doesn't matter who's right, but what's right." An automatic guidance system corrects its course from negative feedback data. It acknowledges errors in order to correct them and stay on course. So must you. Admit your mistakes and errors but don't cry over them. Correct them and go forward. In dealing with other people, try to see the situation from their point of view as well as your own. Pg139

PRESCRIPTION Be willing to make a few mistakes, to suffer a little pain to get what you want. Don't sell yourself short. "Most people," said General R. E. Chambers, once Chief of the Army's Psychiatry and Neurology Consultant Division, "don't know how brave they really are. In fact, many potential heroes, both men and women, live out their lives in self-doubt. If they only knew they had these deep resources, it would help give them the self reliance to meet most problems, even a big crisis." You've got the resources. But you never know you've got them until you act-and give them a chance to work for you. Pg141

PRESCRIPTION The prescription for charity is three-fold: (1) Try to develop a genuine appreciation for people by realizing the truth about them; they are children of God, unique personalities, creative beings. (2) Take the trouble to stop ~f and think the other person's feelings, viewpoints, desires, and needs. Think more of what the other fellow wants, and how he m~st feel. A friend of mine kids his wife by telling her, whenever she asks him, "Do you love me?" "Yes, whenever I stop and think about it;" There is a lot of truth in this. We cannot feel anything about other people unless we "stop and think" about them. (3) Act as if other pepple are important and treat them accordingly. Pg143

PREsCRIPTION Stop carrying around a mental picture of yourself as a person less capable than others, by making unfair apples-to-oranges comparisons. Celebrate your victories small or large, recognize and build on your strengths, and continually remind yourself that you are not your mistakes. The word "esteem" literally means to appreciate the worth of. Why do men stand in awe of the stars, the moon, the immensity of the sea, the beauty of a flower or a sunset, and at the same time downgrade themselves? Did not the same Creator make us? Is not the human being the most marvelous cre ation of all? This appreciation of your own worth is not egotism unless you assume that you made yourself and should take some of the credit. Do not downgrade the product merely because you haven't used it correctly. Don't blame the product for your own errors like the schoolboy who childis~ly said, "This typewriter can't spell." But the biggest secret of self-esteem is this: Begin to appreciate other peo ple more; show respect for human being merely because he or she is a any child of God and therefore a thing of value. Stop and think when you're dealing with people. You're dealing with unique, individual creations of the Creator of all. Practice treating other, people as if they had value, and, sur prisingly, your own self-esteem will go up. For real self-esteem is not derived from the great things you've done, the things you own, the mark you've made, but from an appreciation of yourself for what you are-a child of God. When you Come to this realization, however, you must necessarily conclude that all other people are to be appreciated for the same reason. Pg145

PRESCRIPTION Use errors and mistakes as a way to learning; then dismiss them from your mind. Deliberately remember and picture to yourself past successes. Everyone has succeeded sometime at something. Especially when begin ning a new task, call up the feelings you experienced in some past success, however small it might have been. Pg147

PRESCRIPTION Accept yourself as you are and start from there. Learn to emotionally tolerate imperfection yourself. It is necessary to intellectually recognize our shortcomings, but disastrous to hate ourselves because of them. Differentiate between your self and your behavior. You are not ruined or worthless because you made a mistake or got off course, anymore than a computer is worthless because it makes an error, or a violin because it sounds a sour note. Don't hate yourself because you're not perfect. You have lots of company in imperfection: No one else is perfect and those who try to pretend they are become imprisoned in misery. Pg150

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISES Awareness, acknowledgment, and prompt reaction to a slumbering Automatic Failure Mechanism awakening and attempting to distract you with F·,A·I-L-U-R-E is important. Glance at Negatives, But Focus on Positives Automobiles come equipped with "negative indicators" placed directly in front of the driver, to tell you when the battery is not charging, when the engine is becoming too hot, when the oil pressure is becoming too low, etc. To ignore these negatives might ruin your car. However, there is no need to become unduly upset if a negative signal flashes. You merely stop at a service station or a garage, and take positive action to correct the problem. A negative signal does not mean the car is no good. All cars overheat at times. However, the driver of the automobile does not look at the control panel exclusively and continuously. To do so might be disastrous. She must focus her gaze through the windshield, look where she is going, and keep her pri mary attention on hergoal-where she wants to go. She merely glances at the negative indicators from time to time. When she does, she does not fix on them or dwell on them. She quickly focuses her sight ahead again and con centrates on the positive goal of where she wants to go. How to Use Negative Thinking We should adopt a similar attitude about our own negative symptoms. I am a firm believer in "negative thinking" when used correctly. We need to be aware of negatives so that we can steer clear of them. A golfer needs to know where the bunkers and sand traps are, but he doesn't think continu ously about the he doesn't want to go. His mind glances at bunker~where the bunker, but dwells on the green. Used correctly, this type of negative thinking can work for us to lead us to success, if: 1. We are sensitive to the negative to the extent that it can alert us to danger. 2. We recognize the negative for what it undesirable, some is~something thing we don't want, something that does not bring genuine happiness. 3. We take immediate corrective action and substitute an opposite positive factor from the Success Mechanism. Such practice will in time create a sort of automatic reflex that becomes a part of our inner guidance sys tem. Negative feedback will act as a sort of automatic control, to help us steer clear of failure and guide us to success. Take , a few.minutes toward the conclusion of each day, or midday and at day's end if you can. Find a quiet place, close your eyes, enter your imagi nation so as to revisit the day's events and your behavior. Congratulate yourself on all your Automatic Success Mechanism reflective actions but take note of Automatic Failure Mechanism warning lights quietly flashing on the dashboard! Tell yourself that Automatic Failure Mechanism behav ior is "not you" and is not to be tolerated. If corrections can be made for any that occurred, by all means make them. Be the bigger person by calling or going to see anyone who may deserve your apology, your gratitude, or your congratulations. Analyze your thoughts and actions of the day in terms of contributing toward achieving your goals, even measure your ratio of Automatic Success Mechanism-versus Automatic Failure Mechanism-driven activity; then resolve to improve that ratio. Do not fear self-analysis. Stick with self-coaching, avoid self-loathing. Conclude your private critique of the day by identifying positives you can build on and the recommitment to your goals and ideals. Pg177

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISES By far, the most challenging and rewarding exercises of all suggested in this book are these involving forgiveness. Choose one or two persons for whom you've long carried resentment over past slights and find a way in your heart to truly, completely forgive them, no strings attached, and ultimately do so via your actions toward them. Also, identify some past error or situation you have been carrying a grudge against yourself for, and forgive yourself, and finally, once and for all, banish this from your thoughts. This may very well require considerable work in your imagination factory. Invest 30 minutes a day for 21 consecutive days on quiet reflection, working on this with yourself, in solitude. Pg201

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISES 1. Don't wonder in advance what you are going to say. Just open your mouth and say it. Improvise as you go along. Gesus advises us to give no thought as to what we would say if delivered up to councils, but that the spirit would advise us what to say at the time.) 2. Don't plan (take no thought for tomorrow). Don't think before you act. Act and correct your actions as you go along. This advice may seem radical, yet it is actually the way all servo-mechanisms must work A torpedo does not "think out" all its errors in advance, and attempt to correct them in advance. It must act first-start moving toward the goal-then correct any errors that may occur. 3. Stop criticizing yourself. The inhibited person indulges in self-critical analysis continually. After each action, however simple, she says to herself, "I wonder if 1 should have done that." After she has gotten up courage enough to say something, she immediately says to herself, "Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Maybe the other person will take it the wrong way." Stop tearing yourself apart. Useful and beneficial feedback works subconsciously, spontaneously, and automatically. Conscious self-criticism, self-analysis, and introspection is good and useful if undert~ken perhaps once a year. But the continual, moment-bymoment, day-by-day, sort of second-guessing yourself-or playing Monday-morning quarterback to your past actions,-is defeating. Watch for this self-criticism; pull yourself up short and stop it. 4. Make a habit of speaking louder than usual. Inhibited people are notoriously soft-spoken. Raise the volume of your voice .. You don't have to shout at people and use an angry tone; just consciously practice speaking louder than usual. Loud talk in itself is a powerful disinhibitor. Experiments have shown that you can exert up to 15% more strength and lift more weight, if you shout, grunt, or gr~an loudly as you make the lift. The explanation of this is that loud shouting disinhibits and allows you to exert all your strength, including what has been blocked off and tied up by inhibition. 5. Let people know when you like them. The inhibited personality is as afraid of expressing "good" feelings as "bad" ones. If he expresses love, he is afraid it will be judged sentimentality; if he expresses friendship, he is afraid it will be considered fawning or apple polishing. If he I:;ompliments someone, he is afraid the other will think him superficial or suspect an ulterior motive. Totally ignore all these negative feedback signals. Compliment at least three people every day. If you like what people are. doing, or wearing, or saying, let them know it. Be direct. "I like that, Joe." "Mary, that is 'a very pretty hat." "Jim, that proves to me you are a smart person." And jf you're married, just say to your spouse, "I love you" at least twice a day. Pg122

PRESCRIPTION Stop thinking in terms of fear, anxiety or nervousness, and think only in terms of excitement. It is fine to be a bit excited before you step into the spotlight in whatever you do. Pg254

MENTAL ThAINING EXERCISE Creating 20/20 hindsight as foresight is yet another immensely valuable and creative use of your imagination. Stop and recall a few situations from your past that seemed of dire, earth-shaking consequence at the time but have proven inconsequential over time. Then project yourself three, four, or five years into the future, looking back on today's event, and consider how you ' will feel about it and how much impact it will have had on your life. Pg260

MENTAL TRAl:NING EXERCISE Change negative self-talk, the voice of the Automatic Failure Mechanism to a positive affirmation: "I am the kind of person who ... " Repeat the affirmation as a personal mantra until it becomes an automatic response to any sliver of self-doubt that slips through the door! Here are a few examples: I am the kind of person who ... effectively pJans the day ahead, sets goals, and accomplishes them. Listens carefully, then communicates confidently and persuasively. Takes the initiative in solving problems and suggesting ideas. Stays calm under pressure. Prefers fresh 'fruit and other healthy foods to "junk food." Pg279

(ɔꞅ̟c͛o c̟ɒ̇̈ıı̇ꞇıcꭇ)

: Psyċo-Cybeꞅneꞇıcs :: Sɑıꝺ̇ceo-Sꞇıùıꞅıċ :: ɔꞅᴉͼo-cᴉσeꞃνeꞇıcς :: ꞅ·ıꝺ͛ċo-ꞅꞇıɩ̣̀ıɹ̈ıc͛ :: I'm ſuckınᵹ ıncꞅeꝺıble::

Nothing splendid has ever been achieved except by those who dared believe that something inside them was superior to circumstance. -Bruce Barton

"Once ꝺıſſıculꞇ, now eɑsy::"

Wıllpoweꞅ ıs noꞇ ꞇ̇e ɑnsweꞅ:: Selſ-ımɑʞe mɑnɑʞmenꞇ ıs::

Ꝺeep ꝺown I wɑnꞇ *moꞅe* lıſe:: We ɑll ꝺo:: Ꝺeeɔ ꝺoшν ı шɑνꞇ *moꞃe* lıƭe:: We ɑll ꝺo:: Ꝺ̇̇ɔ ꝺoƿıı ı ƿ·ııꞇ *ɩ̤ö̇* lı̷̇ɾ:: Ƿ̇ ·ll ꝺo::

book; Pꞅescoꞇ Leckey, Selſ Consısꞇency, A Ꞇ̇eoꞅy oſ Peꞅsonɑlıꞇy::

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