My Fyshbowl Blog

Why are people beautified, dressed in their "Sunday" best, placed in caskets they spend thousands of dollars on, only to be buried in the ground? Tombstones on plots of land memorializing bodies that have perished. Aren't our bodies mere shells of our existence? Haven't our souls and spirits left our bodies the moment we die? What better ways can we utilize money and land to memorialize our lives after death?  My understanding is that many practices continue simply because they are inherited, not understood or questioned.  Note: When I die, please donate my organs to save lives and any unused remains to science. My spirit will be long gone from my body and will serve no purpose lingering on this earth taking up physical space.  If the living want to remember me, then do just that, but from any location on the globe. I will not be looking down on this earth, watching over the living, I will be in paradise, living my best (after) life.  I cannot bec...

Where does this obsession with appearances come from? Our constant comparisons to others in not only our physical appearances, but also, materialistic, status, relational, and otherwise. Honestly, it baffles me. That is why I feel so oddly about this time of social media. I am who I am and look how I do. I do not care to take selfies with filters or post pictures boasting about my accomplishments or material objects. In an age of plastic surgery and filters, we are competing with unnatural expectations of beauty. I would much rather people see my heart and mind through my words and actions, than to care about what I look like, where I live, what I drive, or what I "do".  I am envious of every person that has high self-esteem and feels comfortable in their physical bodies. I have never been that person no matter what shape or age. This is what childhood neglect and abuse often does. I hate my body for the type of attention it invites. It does not matter how attractive...

The practice of stillness for me, is just that, practice. It is a task that I have yet to master. My mind, like my heart and lungs, continue to intake thoughts which endlessly beat around in my mind, causing havoc. Why must I be so observant and notice the smallest of details? These details then become additions to my never-ending wonderings. Why must everything be dissected and understood? Does everything really hold that much significance or any meaning at all?  A ladybug landing on my hand, a bird crapping on my head. The form of a tree and shadows. A stranger's glance, a wrong turn. Every past decision made, every future decision yet to be made. The photographic images, the conversations, and observations that continue to keep me up at night. Attempting to meditate, my mind wanders. Trying to pray, my mind wanders. My mind will not be still while reading or writing. Even in my sleep, my thoughts continue into my dreams. I am an over think...

                                                            Teaching with Love and Rebellion                                                    (2018  CA Teachers Summit EdTalk)   “I hate school. I hate teachers even more. They don’t care whether or not I learn any of their irrelevant information anyway, so why should I listen to them or even care about school? It’s obviously not meant for me.”    This is the recurring message that I’ve heard voiced in multiple ways from students in elementary through high school. For most of my own school years I felt the same way. But why,   why do so many students feel thi...

Sometimes things in our lives have to be completely ripped open, broken down, torn apart, or demolished for us to be forced to either release or rebuild. This is true for many areas of our lives from relationships, to jobs, and homes. Often, too many people continue merely existing in this world without the drive or push to change and improve our circumstances. We complain about our work, living situations, health, families, schools, finances, and just about everything.  Until something, such as a pandemic or natural disaster occurs and rocks our world upside down. Now, we are forced to look at our lives straight on and rethink ways of making changes.  So much in this world has remained neglected for far too long. This is why I believe that the recurring hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, tornadoes, and now a worldwide pandemic, are all trying to tell us something. Why do we remain so stubborn and deaf.  Since we refused to listen for so l...

Oh the wonderfully amusing and thought-provoking conversations I have in my own mind. So many poems, songs, and stories created in my head that will never be recorded. Somehow the process of transporting my thoughts from my brain to paper is too far a distance. These ideas and revelations come so quickly and sporadically that I lack time to either open my mouth and speak them or pick up a pencil and write them; let alone, type. There is something so raw and nearer to my spirit that comes from oral storytelling and writing on paper that no other medium can translate. My thoughts get lost. They get misconstrued.  There is so much to say. Too many topics to cover. Problems to be resolved. Beauty to convey. Knowledge to teach. Wisdom to share. Experiences to communicate. Face to face conversations to be had. We need to step away from behind our computer screens and have real conversations. What happened to social skills? Where did personal relationships disappear to? What happened to r...

Today my first granddaughter turned two months and eight days. She was born on April 28th. She received her shots today and I was hoping this would allow me to get to see her. I wanted a grandchild so badly and was so excited when I first found out and even more as the due date neared. But then April came around with news of the Covid-19 Pandemic. I cancelled my trip to Los Angeles for the baby shower and hoped this would subside before the baby was born. We didn't know whether she would be a boy or girl at the time, but I dreamt that she was a girl and secretly hoped she would be. I have two sons and one daughter and I just wanted another beautiful little girl in my life. I prayed constantly for her health and safety and for her mother's short and uncomplicated labor. I am so thankful to have been blessed with each of these requests. 😇 I love her as though she is my own child, and in a "grand" way she actually is. This is why my heart breaks every day that I am kept...

I am sharing a poem I wrote on April 5th, 2020 after about a month into the quarantine:                        Claustrophobic The darkening of the sky from day to night The closing of my eyes, attempting to fall asleep Crowds of people In moving vehicles Beneath a cluster of tall buildings Bundled in winter clothes, socks, and boots Enclosed in a room with closed doors and windows Being held under water Under a pillow and blankets Unable to break free  To be unhinged To breathe I cannot catch my breath Suffocating in my thoughts I can't breathe Trying to catch my breath I. Can't. Breathe! Claustrophobia has been a problematic phobia for me as long as I can remember. My earliest memory of having a claustrophobic attack, if you will, was at about age five while playing in an airplane tunnel at Larsen Park in San Francisco. As I was crawling through the tunnel with others, some kids began blockin...

The fireworks, the fireworks, they haven't stopped for weeks now. We are over four months into this Covid-19 (Coronavirus) Shelter-In-Place that has caused so much societal unrest. The protests, the protests, folks have been protesting since the murder of George Floyd by a police. This murder is in no way the first nor the last committed by police officers.  The ongoing protests, marching, organizing, painting Black Lives Matter on streets across the country,  mural paintings, and toppling statues over, are not based on any single act, but the multitude of murders and systems of oppression that have existed in every area of American life.  Although, I am glad to finally see outward support from non-people of color in acknowledging that Black and Brown lives "matter," I wonder about their sincerity. How much of the protesting, looting, and social media postings are genuine and how much is simply pent up pandemic frustrations? How many young allies are willing to ...

Well here goes... I have contemplated beginning a blog since 2010 and probably made roughly five attempts, but lost interest due to the technological aspects. I simply want to sit down and write when I have the opportunity (and something mildly interesting to say) without the distractions of graphics and added confusion. I am an "old soul" in many ways, I still prefer books I can hold in my hand and smell,  paper, pens, and pencils that I can feel and manipulate how I choose.  Anyhow, my goal is to create a platform for thinkers, creators, healers, and teachers of all types to engage in uplifting ourselves and others. I hope to write for a minimum of an hour daily; although, this is dependent on time, space, and inspiration. Until then, Peace.