The Magic Wandoo

Category of "small minds, small pleasures," Hall of Fame

The Magic Wandoo

Therapy comes in all shapes and sizes, and at widely varying cost, from big bucks at the therapist’s air-conditioned office, to free, while pot-walloping. I posted this goofy photo on face/book this morning, of silverware piled on a little cutting board, floating in the soapy dishwater.

The principle of “small minds, small pleasures” comes into play here: Inquiring [slightly twisted] minds need to know how many pieces of silverware can be successfully placed on the little cutting board, before it sinks.

I try not to liken this metaphor to life, as in how many hardships can any one pile on before one sinks, because there is no sinking in real life, just the perpetual fight to stay afloat. Maybe I should say there is sinking, but now we are talking life and death, instead of the much more terrifying thought of having to continue on as things are, however bad that might be.

As Annie likes to say, “No one gets out of here alive,” but I might add that some people have a worse time of it than others. The ability to stay interested (or fascinated, as the case may be) in the whimsical and/or the absurd, helps keep one’s mind diverted at crucial times, from the harsh reality of what is going on around you.

When things are going bad for others in my presence, and I feel as though I am helpless beyond doing the rudimentary things to keep the household running smoothly, and the chickens happy, always a top priority, I look for ways to divert my mind away from adversity. 

Diverting my mind is always risky because one of these days, it won’t come back.

I venture forth onto more droll paths, where capricious scenarios are as common as doctor’s appointments in real life. Floating silverware while doing the dishes, helps me find balance in life. I mean, doing dishes by hand in the first place, is obviously out-of-balance.

According to the face/book meme [photo of WOMAN hand-washing dishes, caption saying, “How many of you remember hand-washing dishes?”], "we" don’t wash dishes by hand anymore.

I keep waving the magic wandoo, as Mike Krakow calls a wand, but so far the dishes refuse to do themselves, so I’m stuck. Besides, it’s pretty dang hard to balance silverware on a cutting board, while the dishwasher is spinning.

[No, not me-the dish-washer machine thingey-I can always be counted on to be spinning, sometimes even in control…]

Exactly what I see, if just a tad out-of-the-ordinary...

My camera helps further this notion of fanciful behavior. I take so many pics, it’s pic-thetic. I can’t help it; I have never gotten over the recent excitement of being able to capture exactly what I see, and then to be able to “develop” it without cost.

Growing up, I did not have that luxury. Annie and I have precious few photos of the boys that we took, simply because we could never afford to get the film developed. Now I take my camera everywhere I go. I know that cameras are not in vogue, having been replaced by the telephone, and some day I will learn how to take pics with my phone.

There must be classes available on-line for these complex matters.

For now it delights me to take photos that are maybe just a little out-of-the-ordinary, like silverware on a floating piece of wood, or a strange-shaped tomato, with a vibrant message.

Love is a many-splendored thing.

I may take photos of the same tree, twenty times over the course of a calendar year, and none will look anything like any of the others. I can take hundreds of pics of Dozer, without duplicating his uniquely comical features. 

He knows it too.

I have much at my disposal to latch onto, when it comes to cheap therapy. This is not to cast aspersions upon conventional therapy, not at all. 

The seven sessions that released me from panic attack syndrome in 2010, with Dr. Jill, and the intense cognitive behavioral therapy which followed, with Dr. Mark Cieri, allow me to continue to eschew conventional medication for my mood spectrum disorder, in favor of cannabis. Without these crucial therapeutic elements, I would be in no position to appreciate the rest.

In my advanced age, I do seem to be more capable of returning to my inner childhood, for relief of day-to-day stress, and that is essential for me. Sometimes that inner childhood spills over to my outer childhood.

Has anyone seen my Tinker-Toys?