of Mice, Mantras and Murder Misteries

Dear A,

you are describing yourself as being confused and having to supress more or less a gagging reflex when people proclaim everything will be alright sparked off the following post.

Your comment resonated, I suppose, as I used to ruffle Anglo-Saxon polite conversation whenever being asked ‘how are you?’ by answering bluntly ‘confused’.

Luckily, I then lived in Northern Ireland, the local expression there being a condensed ’bout ye?’ – to which the socially accepted response is – ‘not too bad!’ and I thus had no extended opportunity of advertising my state of mind all that often.

And  ‘not too bad’ is not a bad response to that particular question, mefinks, as, honestly thinking about it, most of the time it won’t be too bad, even if your current situation falls short of being brilliant.

Thank you for liking my post of the Mice in the Cheese! They are so engrossed in this blissfull opportunity to stuff their wee faces.

I do feel sympathy for rodents. They are very successful as a species, but it seems their individual lives cannot be blessed with too many relaxing moments. I used to keep mice as a sort of TV for the dog – he loved that channel!  Anyways…

The mice, I found, all had different little personalities and temperaments, preferences regarding favourite food stuffs and different approaches toward physical fittness – from crazed athlete to little couch potatoe. The dark ones were always the wildest, cleverest, escaping from their enclosures, the brown ones more on the other hand I found more docile and fond of their food.

At one time I also had a strange murder mystery, involving 3 females, sisters, in fact, that one day must have developed a fatal feud. And a wyrd aspect to the scenario, too: Somehow the sisters had taken the effort to settle their differences outside their two terraria, the less friendly one having been exiled some time ago, but living in the neighbouring container – I never found out how they managed to break out at the same time. They laid their differences to rest in a very final manner.

On coming home I found two dead little bodies and one fatally wounded mouse in my kitchen. The old tube radio sitting there bearing silent witness of what had come to pass, now with a decor of tiny red paw-prints. I cleaned them away, thus eliminating any chance for the Mice CSI to investigate and reconstruct the crime or shed some UV-light on the scene (The urine of mice leaves trails when you shine UV-Light on it. Male mice also serenade their mates, but that is a different story…)

So, I suppose, I do agree with you in that not everything is always going to work out well or for the best.

There is always things going wrong. Some more so than others. Certainly so from the mice point-of-view in the case of sororicide.

And there is probably not an edifying insight to just any development.

Still, everything seems to hinge on whether one is a go- or no-go-type, well,  …type.

If the situation anyone is in cannot be helped, that is to say: most of the time, it matters how you look at that situation and whatever way you try to deal with it in a progressive manner, letting go of mainstream wisdom, hopefully not becoming entrapped by dogma.

You might like my T-Rex :

T-Rex_if life bowls you over_4Blaustift (566x800)He’s not all to sure wether he appreciates the new perspective he is being granted by falling on his head and with too little body mass, it seems, to shift himself and turn things around. But he will, somehow and eventually.

Funnily enough, life does grant you new perspectives, especially when you stumble.

And grouchy as that may make oneself and as confusing as life may be, you cannot help but find that invoking hope or making you dare do things, you might not contemplate trying otherwise.

This is probably the reason I like mice. We are like mice. Despite all traps, pitfalls, poisons, quibbles, loss of limb, heartaches and heart attacks: We have an innate capability of bouncing back and finding alternative ways to cope and ultimately, conquer.

Just take care where you take a piddle, it may lead predators on your trail.

And may the fog of confusion be lifted by the insight that looking at things differently than most people is more likely key to your personal development than not.

Although you may well be and stay confused as to why this is not blatently apparent to everyone else.

So, far from droning out a brainwashed mantra of ‘everything’s fine, everything’s perfect’ –

serenade to life! – does not matter if not everybody can hear it,

to those who understand, they will!

Ultrasonic greetings!


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