Things that deserve the stink-eye:

Dopamine Party? Not so much.

whatever this is aka cottage cheese (high-protein) no-flour pumpkin loaf, lol. 

I believe it was Homer Simpson who said, "the first step to failing is trying." ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Constructing

iron wheels waiting in
my son's yard for something more

My son works in the trades. He builds things, always has. It's about math and physics for him. First he obsessed about Lego, then wood, then technology, then guitar, then sheet metal, then iron. My favourite of his creations? He welded an iron bird house, lol. The humour's mine, but the skill? It's genetic, thanks to my Dad. 

I've welded exactly zero projects, so I guess that means it skipped a generation? Not really, I build things with words (and sometimes other ingredients too). The grandfather, this father, the son—our default mode is creative but preferred mediums are personal.

Why this craving? It's a problem-solving fixation. Like my Dad, my son applies this skill to things, then enjoys that accomplished feeling. Similarly, I like to apply problem-solving to ideas and behaviours. If you read this blog, my (over) thinking obsession with comprehending this confusing world might be obvious. So...if you're still reading this, I applaud you. 🤣

I mention this because I just finished reading The Molecule of More. The molecule in question? Dopamine. The book clarifies the difference between dopamine and those other handy brain chemicals/hormones: serotonin, oxytocin, endorphins. In a nutshell, the latter three are here-and-now orientated whereas dopamine is future orientated. Hence the first three react to novelty and affect daily mood. They are released when we experience those so-called little things in life: walking in the sunshine, petting a purring cat, and a spicy chai latte. But dopamine? It's about anticipation.

Dopamine motivates us to leverage resources to achieve/complete something pleasurable, something not yet attained, something more. Dopamine is all those coins Mario collects BUT especially leveling up. It drives addiction and creativity and it is both taxing and gratifying. Furthermore, some brains are apparently wired to be more here-and-now while others are dopamine forward: my father, me, my son. That's why completing this paragraph—after much drafting, re-reading, redrafting, and revising—provided the dopamine hit I sought. I hope that makes sense. 

A final detail about the book: there's a chapter on harmony and what we should know about dopamine and mental health. Not surprisingly, we need a balance between here-and-now needs and future-orientated wants. Guess what occupation most helps us humans achieve that? Construction. Essentially, although our brains default to dwell in immediate rest, relaxation, and delight, it's being productive that promises more durable happiness. 

Dear blogger friends/creatives, it seems to me that this is why we blog. As we react/write/sort/tell about the (chaotic) here and now, it helps us construct a hoped-for future. 

What are you constructing?

A Real Slice?

When life gives you melons, maybe you're dyslexic?

Sorry.

It's a remarkably large watermelon though, isn't it? Some might even say, uh, one-in-a-melon. 

Sorry. 

Gotta go eat watermelon; no more melondrama. 😜

Thursdays

Recently, thanks to another blogger, I experienced the "psychological relief" of learning the oh-so-apt name for what we're all experiencing in the 20s: hypernormalization. This is that feeling of dread and powerlessness that permeates our modern lives as we endure daily chaos written off by those in power as uh, I don't know, Thursday, so we square our shoulders, endure, and continue our daily lives amidst the pervasive instability, because uh, what the hell can we really do about it anyway? Sigh. 

So I'm taking a break, sort of a psychological relief break. Let me explain. 

While watering the front garden yesterday, a butterfly landed on me. Oddly, I gasped. I think I reacted this way because it's very 2025 to deem this incident as the ominous opening "butterfly effect" to yet another shitshow. But no. Just what I needed, it took me out of my head. I love it when nature taps me on the shoulder. Delightful. 

Despite everything, what else is delightful? Let's go there. 

Words. Words are delightful. So is corn-on-the-cob and trees and the northern lights and ice cream and garden spaces and when women wear kilts in curling competitions and wedding vows and music and art and the human eye (each so startlingly unique and beautiful) and history class and movies and hilarious one-liners and Lego and librarians and architects and artists and writers and ee cummings and books so moving they shouldn’t end and deep-fried fish and chips and Scotland and Ireland and the Maritimes and Montreal and the wide Saskatchewan horizon line and waving grain and frogs and northern Alberta’s long, long summer days and a freshly painted room and golden hour and watching people open presents and (controversial) tuna casserole and The Swedish Chef and bork bork bork and making cupcakes and cookies and giving them away and haircuts and sleeping in and lavender and poppies and rabbits and snowmobiling and skiing and long walks and picking saskatoons and wood furniture and my bed and my house and my flat-cap and CBC radio and sudden rain and sticky-note pads and my grandkids and the countless ways my spouse, my children, and their children enrich and fortify my ordinary (extraordinary) life, and friends too, playing dice or Ticket-to-Ride or texting memes and when human facades fade and when we admit our stupidity and interdependence and people who don’t condemn others and don't complain just for the sake of complaining and people who understand being neighbourly and Dolly Parton and nurses and people who care for the elderly and my past and present teachers and every teacher my kids ever had and grandmothers and people who snowplow or can fix your AC and people committed to improving the world peacefully and self-deprecating people and comedians and unifiers and people who volunteer and people who are honest, people who encourage without ulterior motives and especially how sometimes the world seems to conspire to make me butterfly happy and oh ya, run-on sentences—I love run-on sentences too.

Dear friends, there is also psychological relief in naming what you delightfully love. Even on Thursdays. Sigh, it's often impossible to love what's going on in the world, but we can love our way through it. Right?