Sunday, 7 February 2021

It's the OX-you-moron

It’s the Ox-you-Moron, (in the vein of "It’s the Economy, nay Pandemic Stupid)

Chinese New Year predictions ... read on below or listen here or if you dare watch here

Oh ‘tis a time of great burden, where only the stoic will thrive, unless you count dancing on the backs, nay graves of others… the sociopaths after all, still seem to find a way to reap the external trappings of success that society so often uses to measure happiness… if only deep down it was not so shallow they might actually be happy… like the Dunning-Kruger Effect shielding the thick from their own understanding so too being sociopathic shields those lacking empathy from the horror and hollowness of their dastardly deeds. Yet in daily acts of fighting the good fight meaning can be found…
Each steady step can be understood as along the Noble Path of Manure where moving from shit to fertile growth is planted seed by seed, and nurtured one act of kind service at a time.
 
For one thing is sure, selfishness will serve you even less than usual in this fine year we have in front of us beginning on February 12th with the new moon. Connection and relationship more than doubles your luck when halving it. Share of thy sinews to relish the joy of community you have contributed to. 

Much love
 
Doctor Lobster

Ps For a bit longer form a laager of your ox wagons rather than go for a lager with your mates and don’t end up the dead yak of your pack – vaccinate!

Finally - here's a really great film to watch... a Himalayan Western! Plenty deep, plenty yak's (and I don't care if yak's aren't oxen, this is my party and I'll write what I like) 


But wait... there's more... your mantra for this year... 


And also - check out how epic Ox wagons have become in the 21st century... 



Wednesday, 8 April 2020

Hot Cross (with myself) Buns

A catch up of sorts... to 'write' the wrongs of recent Easters, in the nick of time... Read on, listen here or for a slightly odder experiment that sort of just popped out watch and listen here.

I love writing, I talk a lot about loving it and wanting to do it but I sure don’t do enough of it to match my pretensions. For example I’ve had an idea for a novel since I was 19 and have written 90% of it yet I fail to keep my bum in the seat to finish it. Meh. 

To partially make up for this, over the past 17 years I’ve written a number of quirky items about various adventures under the name Doctor Lobster. I email these directly to people like you that I have met, liked or connected with in person. I get a lot of joy from this. Even more so when I receive responses - to which you would receive an individual reply (hint). I used to write up to 5 items a year. Of these, two are mission critical - a Chinese New Year ‘prediction’ and a Hot Cross Bun missive. And yet…for not one, but two years I have not written that Easter edition.

WHAT. A. LOSER. Certainly in my own eyes… for is failure or success not only that we judge ourselves thus?

You’d think I’d have many other things I could feel more of a failure around. I’ve been in love 5 times and 5 times those relationships have ended (still love you though). I came from a split home and now my daughter has a split family. I wanted to act, direct and run for office at some time in my life – haven’t of course. I also wanted to be an astronaut. Those all pale into insignificance compared to the prickly abject feeling I suffer having not found the will to write those two simple articles. My excuse has been that it’s hard to be creative while struggling for survival and yet they also say you have to suffer for your art. Apparently I am much more creatively productive when delighted and happy.

Anyway going into space is not the big deal it once was and hey, it’s still quite possible. My first choice as a 2 year old was to be ‘an archaeology’ anyway… didn’t do that either (though I have dug up a triceratops femur). Acting, directing and running for office were part of a plan to be better at each successive one yet were really driven from a desire for the experience of these things. And I’ve not lacked for other interesting experiences in life.



As for the relationships … I regard each and every one of them a success despite their ending. While those endings were not always pretty they were all necessary and in all cases both parties are flourishing quite nicely out of each other’s shade. I have the joy of deep friendships with the first four and share the most amazing aspect of existence with the last - our wonderful daughter Lorelei … and because of her, the mother and I must achieve the alchemical equivalent of transmuting base emotional angst into golden emotive content for the good not only of our daughter but of all who move within our spheres, which has been of the grumbliest variety for the last four years. Very challenging - I’ve failed the test many times. Now, my personal Philosopher’s Stone is the Healthy Limit. Through the magic of maintaining and honouring such boundaries, transformation may occur and the light at the end of the tunnel can open into a lush, wide and verdant valley. Wide and tranquil enough for peaceful co-parenting! No doubt there will be thorns and undergrowth on the path down the mountain. Clearing that path so as to better enjoy life's picnic in the green and pleasant land that is our daughter’s hoped for future will be worth it.

Now to the buns… you see dear readers, I did indulge both times with every intention to write (there's that pathway to hell...). The events may seem prosaic compared to previous editions but so it goes and perhaps that is something that happens for parents with buns recently out of the oven…






2018 - A first for The Noodle. In Johannesburg with my mother who I thought had instilled this Hot-Cross-Buns-on-Good-Friday tradition in me. Turns out it’s only a Good Friday-specific thing for me and not even her, our family or the Catholic Church (from which I have long since fled). Which goes to show the level of meaning we can ascribe to life by blissfully instituting our own ceremonies through ignorance… along with a healthy dose of really not caring to dispel an innocent falsehood! Invariably I prefer my own imagination and path than that of others - thanks very much. There is no reason to think the world religions offer access to anything in the afterlife. Certainly no more than a belief in Odin, Athena, Zeus, Cybele or The Flying Spaghetti Monster does. I do think spiritual belief can offer us heaven on earth in the form of a peace of mind and faith that there is meaning to this life and existence. That doesn’t work for everyone but for those it does, it is a helluva gift. Of course I acknowledge the rampantly stupid stuff delivered upon us as individuals and a society by the foolery of dogma and faith-based ignorance. On measure I sense the things done on the parish level make religion a marginally more useful thing than not for humanity. ON THE PARISH LEVEL I stress. For what is that but just community and don't we really like being part of one of those!?

2019 – An Easter with my sister who by remarkable coincidence made a life and family in Sweden many years before me. A surprisingly sunny spring day it was a rewarding experience for the joy of being able to relax and chill into the familiarity that presence of family can bring in unfamiliar surroundings. At the time it was a haven in a storm as my nuclear family dream detonated Chernobyl-style. The white wine flowed while the crawly, stumbly, Lorenoodle, just returning to being joyful post chickenpox scoffed her 2nd hot cross bun in the presence of welcoming and wonderful cousins.
First Easter Egg hunt and first trampoline... ain't that a thing.

I’m happy to know that despite last years darker than normal cast, for it was indeed the crucible of agony separation can be, I remember that time for the wonderful months I spent with my daughter in Stockholm as Daddy day-care before she began nursery.

For those who do not know, I split my time between London and Stockholm and remain committed to living a life worth writing about. Even in its normality for normal is a wonderful thing - one rung above ordinary, inspiringly apart from crazy.

And yes you’re getting another one of these in the not very distant future because its almost Hot Crusty Bun-a-rama day again and I’ve just barely redeemed some small part of myself in my own eyes… and isn’t it easier to love others when you appreciate yourself?

Next up to finishing that story about that pesky Spider McGee - The Legend Lives On.

Much Love

Doctor Lobster



Friday, 24 January 2020

Captain of Your Ship, Rodent of Your Soul

Round and round the Sun we go and here is the guidance for the next swoop we do! Chinese New Year of the Rat ... Starting 25th Jan with the New Moon!


Watch out, for there is a threat, this year or next, of terrible proportions. Quite possibly it will come from within and is likely to be as obvious as the ship’s cat. Stoically facing it or preparing to will ensure this obstacle becomes The Way. Summiting even a mountain of garbage counts as scaling great heights. Often dealing with the worst garners the greatest benefit … even if you don't find the pirate gold, avoiding the greatest of all weevils will be far more important. The lessons learned in challenging times prepare us better for future calamity.

So it's time to take a really proper look at the state of your ship. Scuttle, scurry, rustle, rummage. Dig deep down, into the very bilges of your life. It might be murky, dark, wet, damp or dank but it is your soul so best measure it for yourself. Experience reality with and through your own senses. Even if you aren’t eating honey or wearing silk, you won’t be abandoning ship if you learn about the leaks and stem their flow. Then you will be far better placed for the strange seas ahead. 


Rats are the most pragmatic of the years and even though Life is not always a party, one sure can have a lot of fun along the way with a loving and kind attitude of curiosity.

Much love

Doctor Lobster

Signing off with this lovely Mummy Doe with her brood - isn't life and the cycle thereof just wonderful?


Monday, 4 February 2019

Merely a Truffle - Year of the Sow

Round and round the Sun we go and here is the guidance for the next swoop we do! Chinese New Year... Starting 5th Feb with the New Moon! Similar to the dark age conceit ‘As above so below’ the Year of the Sow embodies, ‘As outside, so inside’. Read on or listen here.










In the seeking there is always a finding. An inner adventure and purpose, for is the source of all things not deep inside oneself? A proper rummage in the wildest woods will change your life forever. The danger too, to learn so much that the life you live, will no longer succour you the safety of complacency. That is its own reward too!

Sense, sense hard … and you will smell it, through the undergrowth… the fat of the land calling... 
Snuffle you must, down in the dirt to find the treasure in richest earth… otherwise you will seek or sink forever in this land of Hungry Ghosts, knowing you have not suckled marrow from the bones of love. 



Be like the precious little dung beetle neatly rolling up that which happy pigs wallow in… compartmentalise yours and make it useful for something, anything! Rather than smearing it over others…  

Much Love

Doctor Lobster 



Tuesday, 13 February 2018

Injakazi - Year of the Bitch

The wheel of time takes us round and round so here we are at Chinese New Year ... read on or listen here for its revelations




Times can be hard, times can be tough but even the worst curmudgeons’ heart cracks a smile at the sight of a joyful dog bounding around.
 
That was the Hen this is the Hound,
 
And with it comes devotion to blind hope and deep-state loyalty. For at its base, loyalty wavers not from the object (of desire) but holds and caresses it no matter the misplaced acts or frantic egoistic squirms it makes. This is not to be blind to flaw though and soothing guidance is best given side-by-side. It is the wise that wish good companionship for their enemy. For good company breeds love, peace and contented goodwill. 
 
Canine years are always positive even if they don't seem to be. Even if it’s challenging, in time you’ll find this annum was filled with seven years with of life’s beautiful lessons. The dog will never give up on you, though it might nip and bite at the heels of complacency. Run where once you walked, laugh where once you loved and love where once you cried.   
 
Much Love
 
Doctor Lobster / Hal 


ps - Year of the Bitch, a little contentious…
As any kids do when learning a new language one needs a curse or three. In the days of apartheid we had no access to true speakers to teach us the more colourful words while learning Zulu in our all-white class. So with inventive puerility we constructed our own - Inja is dog and Injakazi, a female dog. Bitch.

As the misogynistic mists raise and more gains in respect for womankind occurs - words need to be reclaimed. Year of the Hen leads into Year of the Bitch. Lucky are we that the best stories of these times will be told and written by and about women (no longer in the shadows).

The Proud Dogs of the Soviet Space Program. Read all about them! 

Sunday, 22 January 2017

Cluckity Cluck Cluck

Chinese-New-Year-O'clock again ... so here are the less traditional thoughts on that! Read on or listen here.




Farewell the Monkey. While others may strut, preen and scratch their little dirt patch in a squawking fury… next Saturday’s Year of the Rooster Hen would be served best with a healthy dose of Make Nice from you, kind chicken.   

Espousing the values of the hearth will be most important this year as all people and species can relate to the homestead - so it will be as if speaking with one tongue understandable by all. And in that unity may begin to grow. 




Creativity in all its forms - be that birthing new ideas, ventures, life itself or nurturing the valuable ones others have manifested - will bear the fruit of your future - so sow well. You must strive to get it out of your own organism so that your creations may have a life of their own, to do more things, reach and improve more lives than you yourself can directly influence. Its not just your coop that needs to be safe and secure… it is patches everywhere, and probably the only way to do that is to provide a beautiful example of how to do it. Foster an open coop policy that those in need of warmth, food, love, care or just good company may feel welcome to visit, bringing their own diversity. Talk to anyone for long enough and they will tell you something interesting, listen to their story and you will want to hold them and cry for the beauty that is the human experience.

Let the mantra for the year be:

Better together.

The truth may not always be beautiful but the search for it is.

And “If you think you are too small to make a difference" then recall what The Dalai Lama said:
“Try sleeping with a mosquito" (please click on that!!!)







But aside from that … it is also the year of the octopus - resemblent of sublime absurdity... Like Hens they find humour a great ally. Here is Hairy the Eighth coming to terms with his reality. 




If you do not know … you really should learn this valuable life skill -  how many time do you have to tickle an octopus to make it laugh?

Ten tickles…

Except this rather wonderful sheet puts that sweet joke aside… they are not tentacles they are arms!!!






But it ties in of course with the gently loving nature that a creature with 3 hearts would have and we will need, in order to recognise that we are all on this rock together and there is only one species - Terran. Get with the program… Really try to think and understand … as much as if you, like Octopuses, could think with your arms… so listen to that big beating heart inside you and let it give what you want to get. LOVE.  
 






Thursday, 29 December 2016

2.0 - Heart Cross Buns - Too Good to Fail

If you prefer you can listen to this here otherwise read on!





Greetings One and All

What a year, what a life… many are berating 2016 for its rude and rough handling of us. Yes it contained some the most horrific and unpleasant surprises globally and personally but it also contained some of the brightest moments of growth illuminating the path ahead.

My year began with a rash of fun missives about things such as Leap Year and Indonesian Eclipses then the writing if not the living faded off as I was overwhelmed by events… I experienced an inexplicable marriage of heaven and hell in relationship form. Encountered death with a stranger on a beach. Returned to transformative festivals like Burning Man. Finished one major film, started another straight away while still making time for a low-budget Indie. Love was lost. Death claimed my father via the limbo of neurological ICU. I donned the mantle and crown of responsibility and finally had a healing Christmas with my family. Per ardua ad astra (through adversity to the stars). The lesson of accepting loss forever played out in full. I did the work and immediately found that what could be returned to me was. Not my dear departed father but version 2.0 of the relationship with Miss Rabbit.

During the year I behaved in ways admirable and abominable. Proud of how I handled many adversities I was equally shamed at my reaction to perceived challenges. When someone powerful storms into your life in the name of love the opportunity for change can be mistaken as attack on sovereignty. One's old un-serving patterns are not one’s identity, no matter how long one has come to identify with them, they are just a shell. It might protect from external harm but it can also constrain and contain. Growth can seem painful but after lobster-like shedding I am glad of this years extraordinary lessons. I feel the freedom to shift, expand and take the brave steps towards a bright future. One filled with more hope and promise than I have ever felt. Not the least because I feel met and Isadora and I have shared the same journey through a crucible of fire emerging with a strong, respectful, loving bond and beautiful vision for the future. It necessarily took complete loss to find our way back to each other. Our recovery mantra’s, the personal "Locked open in Love at Convict Lake.” and the public paradigm shifting parody "Too good to fail.” Like this astonishing world we live in.





One regret I can rectify was the failure to post one of my two ‘compulsory’ annual blog articles - around Hot Cross Buns … While I might not have written about it - I did not miss out on the occasion…

Rewind to late March and for the very first time I feasted upon Easter buns kneaded by my own hands under the auspices of Miss Rabbit in Gothenburg. It was a first excursion to her home city to meet friends and family. I am nothing if not romantic so a couple of these buns were crested not with crosses but with hearts instead. I was very surprised by the amount of effort it takes to make these bread like things - far more effort than a cake yet a wonderfully soul-nourishing thing to do. As they baked and filled the house with the aroma of yeasty Easter yumminess we celebrated, via a yoga kria, gratitude at the wealth of abundance we enjoy.



I believe in the restorative nature of forest fires and that the phoenix can only rise from the ashes but the healing balm of recognition and reconciliation is required to balance things. I do not Iive to tread the simplest path of a happy pig, nor am I a fair weather friend. Why run at trouble and strife when to remain might enable depth of connection and release from deeply blocked pain and suffering. Why run when learning so much about myself. Learning about me, the maker of my jokes and exporter of my laugh, crier of my tears, dreamer of my dreams and author of my life. And for sure I learned how large and small an alpha I can be and how that was at times quite horrid for my previous loves and teachers. Yum Yum, Mouse, Crab, Red and Pudding please accept my apologies for being so goddamn stubborn. Thank you so much for being with me, for the amazing experiences and for all the valuable lessons gained from you. Lessons that have made me who I am and enabled me to live this life. Your love was always an amazing gift and prepared me for this one I now worship at the altar of. All that I am I offer at the altar of love in sweet surrender.

But then again perhaps it has been this stubborness (Obby the … ) that has enabled me to remain in place and follow this lupine alpha on alpha mating policy...
Good Wolf, Evil Wolf fighting for your soul… which one will win. The one you choose to feed. This is in general taken to mean that one should feed the good wolf not the bad one. However if you don’t pay the bad one any attention at all you are going to have a ferocious, desperate and starving wolf tearing at your soul as its very existence is threatened. That sounds none too wise. Perhaps feeding it and giving it loving kindness might change its ways… for the most part things react well to compassion and sympathy and badly to favouritism and neglect. It is important to find the alternative narrative that encompasses the whole and provides a positive outcome for all involved in the story. It can contain a hero’s journey and yet redeem the villain. For we contain both and both are part of us. Like Tantra is often misunderstood in the West as being only of the light… it is not, it contains all, the whole spectrum from light to dark and back again around the other side where the filters don’t make it quite so clear whose brighter anyway… light, dark, left, right, up, down, in, out, man, woman, mountain, valley, peak, trough, right, wrong, concave, convex, they are all descriptions just of opposites, of abstractions such as directions that cannot exist without each other. None of it is absolute; all can be quantitative and relational rather than judgemental. So invite your dark side in, offer it a nice cup of tea and a sit down, thank it for its efforts to protect you from something it itself is terrified of, reassure it that all is going to be ok, that it is welcome to enjoy the warmth but only for as long as it does not cause trouble. And if it does … flush it down the toilet saying it can only come back once it’s improved its attitude again.

Much love wonderful friends

Doctor Lobster

In the meantime I’d like you to know that I have been befriending Aeschylus, a most wonderful if slightly cranky 30-year-old tortoise here in South Africa at my father’s house.