If you asked him ‘How are ya?’, sometimes my Dad used to answer – ‘A box of fluffies – all dead!’. To translate for those unfamiliar with slang from the Aotearoa-land, if he’d answered ‘A box of fluffies’ he’d have meant he was feeling pretty good. [I honestly don’t really know why a box of fluffies means that – I think the fluffies in question are ducks, and having a box of fluffy, presumably baby ducklings does sound like a happy time, but even so, we say some weird stuff). Dad’s (as far as I know unique) addition to the saying means “I’m feeling many shades of shit”, but he delivered it with a laugh, and I’d always laugh too.
Writing this blog has so far been part-therapy (writing as a means of processing and letting go), and partly a way for me to explain and describe what it is like to be me, in a mode I find easier than verbal communication. I have always been driven to record (evidenced by the stacks of journals I have stashed at the back of my wardrobe, that are filled with hand written chronicles of me, and more lately several mini-me-types), so this blog is kind of a natural extension of that.
But more fundamentally the Parky Ninja blog serves as a transformative action to focus me and anyone reading on the light side. I am the fat kererū on the tree, hard out posing for attention (choosing to let go the fact, that for the moment, all the berries are eaten). I am attempting to be like Dad – admitting life is hard but having a laugh anyway.
Being me is a bit frenetic at times. In the last little while I have been struggling to cope with a weight of things to do. At times I find myself overwhelmed by the enormity of day to day life. Parky-ness adds a whole ‘nother level of technical difficulty to this.
I get through this with the love and understanding of those around me. And doing things like going to karate, even when the fluffies are dead, helps because the acceptance of that community is healing. And I discovered again that moving – especially cross body left-to-right really helps your brain recover from set-back.
And if nothing else works, I always do what Dad used to do too – reach for the chocolate!