GOOGLE TELLS YOU HOBBIT MEAL TIMES I’M SCREAMING
Google, add this to Google Calendar!
Good grief, I must be a hobbit :P
Tom Bagshaw’s “Black Lodge" Portraits and Book Release.
Tom Bagshaw, master of the mysterious, has slowly (and slightly in secret) been working on a new series of darker and occult themed portraits (from over 800 user submissions on Instagram) entitled, “The Black Lodge" which will be released tomorrow, August 1st, 2014 for purchase as well as grouped together in an impressive collectors book.
The book and portraits will be available tomorrow in Tom’s Online Store.
See way more work from “The Black Lodge" series and a preview of the book below:
I just want to shout from the roof tops “this!”
Really, most of this applies to any city.
Oh yes, I can easily add several panels to this :
1) People who randomly stop in shop / public building doorways (they can check their change/ticket/have a conversation with Fred very easily several metres to the left or right of said unnecessary bottleneck).
2) Whether the same culprits or a different circle in the Venn of Frustration: Those who stop at the top of escalators - whether to collect their thoughts, ponder the nature of the universe or inspect pocket fluff, nicely oblivious to the impending slow-motion pile-up of bodies about to happen behind them.
(People with impaired mobility or juggling wriggly children of course excepted - but given sense you’d give these people more than two spare steps space behind them anyway as courtesy, and those you didn’t spot in advance you just excuse and deal with - this comment is solely for the lemons)
3) PAVEMENT CYCLISTS ! Yes those mostly young/middle aged urban males, whizzing on their mountain bikes on narrow pavements, expecting everyone to dive outta their craaaazy way, cause you know, they can bully everyone… like, erm, cars do to those actual cyclists who use roads … Roads. Yes them dangerous things, but apparently so are pavements for me when I get freaked out and tense even seeing one of this lot approach me at full tilt from a distance, or meet around a blind corner.
This makes simple act of walking an anxiety trigger for me as it provokes my startle reflex.
Dudes - people use the pavement because they need more time to react, those with vision or hearing problems, balance problems (very common w autism and dyslexia btw) - we’re not “in your way”, you’re being shitty. Pedal at walking pace or get off and bloody well push or use the road.
4) Dog owners should pick up their dog poop! Seriously is this even having to be said? Dogs are wonderful, I love ‘em, but don’t want to poo-surf when we’re trying to dodge pavement cyclists. This will increase everyone’s chances of survival. Humanity will thankyou. I will thankyou.
5) When I’m at the front of a supermarket cashier checkout, the ones with the conveyor belts that mean there’s a queue of people behind me, if I’m packing my shopping some people occupy the space directly in front of the cashier and card machine - this means I can’t pay without having to lean across them whilst they tut and roll their eyes that I have the temerity to still be there and not out of their way already.
Listen, I don’t want to lean, it’s bad for my back, they can see my pin number and basically they’re being numpties. Ditto for letting their kids get under my packing space either, I’m not looking where my bags full of tins are swinging, be the parent. Oh and please don’t push that wire trolley or basket into my back either. That’s just rude.
6) People who walk in a group on a pavement meeting you coming the other way, but don’t make space to let you past. Often there’s big gaps between them, but just not enough to comfortably get through. Thanks guys. I like the twin options of walking on the road or having an awkward shoulder shove encounter. It makes my being outdoors with my fellow man that much shinier.
7) As for 6), but this time it’s a special ‘verge or wall’ King of the Castle game where the person approaching WANTS TO CLING TO THE WALL no matter what, and will occupy that two inches of space even if you were walking there already and they just crossed the road. Seems especially to be a game insecure guys want to play. Special mention to the dude who literally did this when I had two inches of gap and he still didn’t move out of the way but pushed me to get inbetween me and the wall, like a speedwalking amoeba. Extra special mention to the other dude who did the same but at full tilt on a cycle. Oh that reminds me..
8) PAVEMENT CYCLISTS !!
I will stop now. This has been oddly therapeutic.
I’m sure I’m not alone though :)
…”I didn’t know people could be stars”. Beautiful.
1. Trauma permanently changes us.
This is the big, scary truth about trauma: there is no such thing as “getting over it.” The five stages of grief model marks universal stages in learning to accept loss, but the reality is in fact much bigger: a major life disruption leaves a new normal in its wake. There is no “back to the old me.” You are different now, full stop.
This is not a wholly negative thing. Healing from trauma can also mean finding new strength and joy. The goal of healing is not a papering-over of changes in an effort to preserve or present things as normal. It is to acknowledge and wear your new life — warts, wisdom, and all — with courage.
2. Presence is always better than distance.
There is a curious illusion that in times of crisis people “need space.” I don’t know where this assumption originated, but in my experience it is almost always false. Trauma is a disfiguring, lonely time even when surrounded in love; to suffer through trauma alone is unbearable. Do not assume others are reaching out, showing up, or covering all the bases.
It is a much lighter burden to say, “Thanks for your love, but please go away,” than to say, “I was hurting and no one cared for me.” If someone says they need space, respect that. Otherwise, err on the side of presence.
3. Healing is seasonal, not linear.
It is true that healing happens with time. But in the recovery wilderness, emotional healing looks less like a line and more like a wobbly figure-8. It’s perfectly common to get stuck in one stage for months, only to jump to another end entirely … only to find yourself back in the same old mud again next year.
Recovery lasts a long, long time. Expect seasons.
4. Surviving trauma takes “firefighters” and “builders.” Very few people are both.
This is a tough one. In times of crisis, we want our family, partner, or dearest friends to be everything for us. But surviving trauma requires at least two types of people: the crisis team — those friends who can drop everything and jump into the fray by your side, and the reconstruction crew — those whose calm, steady care will help nudge you out the door into regaining your footing in the world. In my experience, it is extremely rare for any individual to be both a firefighter and a builder. This is one reason why trauma is a lonely experience. Even if you share suffering with others, no one else will be able to fully walk the road with you the whole way.
A hard lesson of trauma is learning to forgive and love your partner, best friend, or family even when they fail at one of these roles. Conversely, one of the deepest joys is finding both kinds of companions beside you on the journey.
5. Grieving is social, and so is healing.
For as private a pain as trauma is, for all the healing that time and self-work will bring, we are wired for contact. Just as relationships can hurt us most deeply, it is only through relationship that we can be most fully healed.
It’s not easy to know what this looks like — can I trust casual acquaintances with my hurt? If my family is the source of trauma, can they also be the source of healing? How long until this friend walks away? Does communal prayer help or trivialize?
Seeking out shelter in one another requires tremendous courage, but it is a matter of life or paralysis. One way to start is to practice giving shelter to others.
6. Do not offer platitudes or comparisons. Do not, do not, do not.
“I’m so sorry you lost your son, we lost our dog last year … ” “At least it’s not as bad as … ” “You’ll be stronger when this is over.” “God works in all things for good!”
When a loved one is suffering, we want to comfort them. We offer assurances like the ones above when we don’t know what else to say. But from the inside, these often sting as clueless, careless, or just plain false.
Trauma is terrible. What we need in the aftermath is a friend who can swallow her own discomfort and fear, sit beside us, and just let it be terrible for a while.
7. Allow those suffering to tell their own stories.
Of course, someone who has suffered trauma may say, “This made me stronger,” or “I’m lucky it’s only (x) and not (z).” That is their prerogative. There is an enormous gulf between having someone else thrust his unsolicited or misapplied silver linings onto you, and discovering hope for one’s self. The story may ultimately sound very much like “God works in all things for good,” but there will be a galaxy of disfigurement and longing and disorientation in that confession. Give the person struggling through trauma the dignity of discovering and owning for himself where, and if, hope endures.
8. Love shows up in unexpected ways.
This is a mystifying pattern after trauma, particularly for those in broad community: some near-strangers reach out, some close friends fumble to express care. It’s natural for us to weight expressions of love differently: a Hallmark card, while unsatisfying if received from a dear friend, can be deeply touching coming from an old acquaintance.
Ultimately every gesture of love, regardless of the sender, becomes a step along the way to healing. If there are beatitudes for trauma, I’d say the first is, “Blessed are those who give love to anyone in times of hurt, regardless of how recently they’ve talked or awkwardly reconnected or visited cross-country or ignored each other on the metro.” It may not look like what you’d request or expect, but there will be days when surprise love will be the sweetest.
9. Whatever doesn’t kill you …
In 2011, after a publically humiliating year, comedian Conan O’Brien gave students at Dartmouth College the following warning:
"Nietzsche famously said, ‘Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’ … What he failed to stress is that it almost kills you.”
Odd things show up after a serious loss and creep into every corner of life: insatiable anxiety in places that used to bring you joy, detachment or frustration towards your closest companions, a deep distrust of love or presence or vulnerability.
There will be days when you feel like a quivering, cowardly shell of yourself, when despair yawns as a terrible chasm, when fear paralyzes any chance for pleasure. This is just a fight that has to be won, over and over and over again.
10. … Doesn’t kill you.
Living through trauma may teach you resilience. It may help sustain you and others in times of crisis down the road. It may prompt humility. It may make for deeper seasons of joy. It may even make you stronger.
It also may not.
In the end, the hope of life after trauma is simply that you have life after trauma. The days, in their weird and varied richness, go on. So will you.
Catherine Woodiwiss, “A New Normal: Ten Things I’ve Learned About Trauma”
geesh this was nice to read
Needed to read this today. Maybe someone else needs to read it too.