SharondaWoodfin.net

When I Say "Bokken"...

I'm using the term incorrectly. That said, it's still the best term I have for this:

I used to call it my "burglar beater", but that's inaccurate, since I've never encountered a burglar, and since it's never been used to beat anyone but me. For many reasons, I refuse to call it a "big stick". Besides, when it was cut from the tree (shrub? maybe...) growing next to the front porch, its shape immediately reminded me of a katana (this is one of the reasons I consider it a gift of Tao), making the term "bokken" (or "wooden sword") appropriate, if not accurate.

Much like some of my favorite web browsers, my bokken has add-ons. For those of you curious enough to go beyond just wondering what the hell I'm talking about when I tweet the word "bokken", let's get a closer look!

This section of jute twine was my bokken's first add-on. I've found jute twine to be pretty much useless for every other conceivable application, but it does a fine job of marking off a safe place for my left hand to grab the far end of the bokken when/if I want to use it as an all-too-short staff. Those little spikes that you can see on either side of the twine are vestiges of the tiny limbs that were growing from the plant when it was cut. Other than the naturally-formed handle, there are very few places on the bokken where the spikes are far enough apart to get a comfortable grip.

This is a child-sized headband that I found in a parking lot. It reminds me of my favorite pair of shoes ever: Nike Air Delta Force A/C Snakes. Mine had green trim, but like this headband, they came in a purple version, too. Also, bare wood gets a bit uncomfortable against my hands after a while. The headband provides a bit of cushiony comfort. Not much, obviously, but every little bit helps.

This is a pink ribbon that I found in a parking lot. It's pretty. I have no other excuse.

To anyone who's been reading long enough to already know all of this: Pardon my redundancy. It happens, sometimes.

Finding Meaning in Mundane Things

I've mentioned before, briefly, that I have a fondness for found items. I've never explained in detail about the philosophy behind that fondness, but here's a quick primer: I see found items as gifts of Tao. And before you decide that's a bit far-fetched, try seeing it from my perspective. Tao is everything, and in order for me to find whatever item it is that I wasn't looking for in the first place, everything (Tao) must be in agreement with (or at least not be in opposition to) me finding said item. It's only a hop, skip, and a jump, for me, then, to conclude that these found items are gifts of everything, or gifts of Tao. Frankly, calling something a "gift of Tao" is a helluva lot more concise than what I've just written. If that makes sense, fantastic! If not, I'm probably going to be frustrated with trying to explain it, anyway.

The original necklace in this photo was less a gift of Tao and more a gift of Reine, who went on a cruise earlier this year. I took care of her dogs and cats while she was gone, and she bought me the necklace in Roatán. The pictured parts that are native to the original necklace are the seriously nifty adjustable cord; the wooden bead; and the wooden spiral, complete with metal lizard.

The freedom rings (the multi-colored metal loops, for those who don't know; and, yeah, there's one missing) were also not gifts of Tao; try as I might, I can't assign that honoriffic to something I bought at Claire's over a decade ago, when I was far more interested in spirits than spirit.

But the blue jay feather? Oh, you bet your sweet bippy that's a gift of Tao! (And a nice one, too, if you're willing to appreciate it! It's been my experience that that's generally the nature of gifts of Tao: They're more likely to be things about which you make a gut-level choice to value or not value [like this feather or the piece of pretty pink ribbon that now adorns my bokken], than things than have a more obvious wide-spread value [like, say, that $50 bill that Tao has yet to toss into my path].) I found it by the street, just down from my yard, while I was out walking to clear my head, and certainly not hunting for stray feathers. (I was taught not to touch them, anyway, 'cause they might have mites.)

And, for those of you who can't appreciate the inherent meaning in finding that which you don't seek, hadn't considered seeking, but find immediate value in upon finding... 

Well, there are several different instances of "meaning" going on here, too. If you want to argue which symbols apply and which don't, that's fine; but it's my damned necklace, and to me, both the lizard and the spiral are symbols of regeneration. Regeneration, for reasons that I won't go into here, has been an important theme for me over the past several months, so those symbols are appropriate to my current state. 

The freedom rings are an obvious symbol. Independence, tolerance, diversity, whatever. Honestly, it's just my way of saying "Hi! I like girls!" 

And the feather? I actually looked up the symbolism surrounding blue jays, and feathers, in general; but on a very basic, personal level, it represents a desire for flight, both literal and figurative.

In combination, I love this necklace! Its various symbols come together to form an expression that is true to my current self. I wore it for the first time, today. I liked wearing it. And while wearing it, I found yet another gift of Tao: a shiny purple headband, lost or discarded in the parking lot at Wal-Mart. I have no idea, yet, what purpose it will serve, but I already know that I appreciate it; in part, because it's pretty, but also because it was found.

It's easy to find meaning and value if you look for it. It's easier, still, if you're simply willing to recognize it when you see it. It can be found in the things you work hard for, the things you may sometimes take for granted, the things that are given to you, and even the things you don't realize you want. 

In the end, it's what you choose to value (or not value) that makes you who you are. You may argue that my choice to value what others may see as worthless, by my own logic, degrades my own worth. 

I would argue that choosing to value what others see as worthless, by the nature of the fact that abundance degrades worth, makes me happy.

Merry Christmas, My Eye!

This is not what I woke up to on Christmas morning. This was two days later, when the swelling had gone down a bit, and the eye didn't hurt constantly. The most worrisome part of the entire thing is that, if that's an infection, it shouldn't have happened. I'm taking 2000mg/day of Amoxicillin for the dental abscess I tried to treat on my own for several months before finally going to the clinic on the 17th of this month. Maybe I'm wrong, but I sincerely expect to not set up a new infection while tossing back that much antibiotic. (No one utter the word "resistant". I'm not ready to go there.)

Just to make me worry more, the swollen periorbital area is on the same side of my face as the abscess, right above the cheek that got puffy back in July. Yay!

But that really does seem to be getting better.

This, however; this is still painful:

This is what can come of cold weather and excessive hand-washing. Keep in mind that "excessive" is a relative term. If you're already walking around with a nice bit of infection, and you have pets, and at least one of those pets is incontinent, your definition of "excessive" may be different than most people's.

In any case, the best treatment that I've found -- barring just letting your hands become a bacterial playground -- for dry, cracking, burning, winter skin is Vaseline. Plain ol' petroleum jelly, applied with a cotton swab, please. The problem is that the damned stuff gets everywhere, and it doesn't wash off easily. So, until the cold season passes, this is how I'll most often see my hands:

That's a cheap, white cotton glove; one half of a pair bought at the pharmacy for $1.99. With three out of four fingertips, and the thumbtip, removed, I can still play with the dog and cat, swing my spiky bokken, and draw on my pen tablet; without worry of furkid petrolatum ingestion, losing my grip on said spiky bokken, or smearing Vaseline on the tablet. It's win-win-win! (Sweatbands make good "cuffs" for the gloves, since they tend to be loose and floppy. [The one pictured here was found in a grocery store parking lot. That's win, too!])

And, personally, I think it's kind of snazzy!

But I wear things I find in parking lots.

Your mileage -- and fashion sense -- may vary.