An Old Country Soul, the Self-Talk Workout, a Creepy Story, Views From Missoula, & The First Dog in Space Ate Tacos.
The body can humble you, but you already know that. It’s glorious, too. My body. Yours. How it is our most loyal companion from conception to death. What were we before those two gametes embraced? Where do we go, if we go at all, when we and our bodies part? I haven’t the faintest. That mystery shrinks me. Makes everything look much bigger. Like a side-view mirror, but magical, so worth the suffering.
But the body, when we part, continues on, lending its decomposing magical hand and foot and rib cage and so forth to other creations. The life cycles, scientist call it and stab their pointers at different curved arrows to explain the process. The currency of our immortality is my spin.
It’s taking a seismic shift in my perspective to receive my body’s lessons and not see it as solely antagonistic, its limitations and pains something to overcome. To see it that way, I gotta cleanse that phlegmy film, thick from years of chronic health issues and depression, that covers my eyes. Amazing what a clearer picture can do. How we can see the many delights we ought to trip over. How the very seeing and breathing and being are delights in themselves.
That perspective takes constant elbow grease though. Takes intention turned into practice. That’s what Dopamine’s Delight is for me. One part of it, anyhow. But if I’m being honest, a trait I’m striving for here in this space, I’ve found this post difficult to write. Not that there haven’t been any delights. They’re all around me and you.
What nags me are insecurities that what I share won’t be well received. Perhaps, not received at all. Trudging forward through the fear of rejection is a rite of passage most writers must endure. And I don’t have to make any large leaps, as tiptoeing will do, to subscribe that feeling to the human condition. We want to be accepted. Want to feel like what goes on in our heads is worth a damn, valued by, if not the many, a few. Many of us fear the opposite. I sure as hell often do. But write and share I must. It’s required in this writing gig I volunteered myself into.
And so, in today’s Dopamine’s Delight, I share with you an old country soul, the Self-Talk Workout, a creepy story, views from Missoula, & The First Dog in Space Ate Tacos.
An Old Country Soul
Dopamine’s Delight: Colter Wall sings The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie
How is Colter Wall only 28 years old? Yep. I looked that up. You and I would be forgiven for believing he’s older since he packs 100-plus years of lived experience in his voice and songs. Haven’t heard his music yet? Take a watch & listen above to admire his deep, smoky, baritone-bass voice that tumbles each word through a cement mixer, so we hear its grit, its gravel. See the grimacing strain and concentration it takes to sing as he does, a labor for auditory beauty. In Colter Wall’s “The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie,” particularly, we hear the influences of blues on this country western artist by both his guitar strumming and the subject of his song: a modern-day retelling of Robert Johnson’s famed deal at the crossroads.
And I heart how he stripped this song to its essentials: one singer, one kick drum, one guitar. Oh, and lest I forget, catch how he changes the tempo of the song, utilizing differing durations of silence, throughout, but especially at the end. These tempo changes keep us on our toes. They subvert our expectations, get us hanging on each word until we listen to the very end. If you enjoyed ‘Devil Wears a Suit and Tie,” here’s another of his songs, a cover, more recent, and with yodeling.
Dopamine’s Delight: Colter Wall sings Cowpoke
I’m grateful for him and his cowboy poetry and am excited for where he takes the art form.
The Self-Talk Workout
The Self-Talk Workout by Rachel Goldsmith Turow, PhD
I’ve been on a nonfiction kick of late, searching for guidance to live a life with more ease. In my search, the Self-Talk Workout by Dr. Rachel Goldsmith Turow smacked me in my head via a recommendation from a friend on Threads. Now, even before reading this book, I’d be the first to tell you how harsh and constant my critical voice can get. I liken it to a bully that I can’t outrun, so another being almost outside of my control. It’s truly a bummer that bully is me, and I use that label to fuel more self-criticism, a nasty positive feedback loop that creates more negativism.
Sure. I know I should speak kindly to myself. Sure. I know my perspective largely begets my reality. And I sure as hell know my reality is marred by depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. However, I never viewed my critical self-talk as an antecedent to these mental health struggles. I thought it was a by-product.
Also, very importantly, knowledge does not equal understanding. As an example, take the writing craft, a low-hanging fruit of an example because it preoccupies much of my days and mind. Regardless of how much I study what precisely makes a good story shine, all that knowledge is useless unless I sit my butt in the chair and write using the tricks and devices I’ve learned. That’s what turns my knowledge of the craft into understanding. To get to understanding, I have to fire up new neuron pathways and avoid the old, tired, and well-worn ones. That’s the idea of neuroplasticity which is a neuroscientific way of saying practice makes perfect. Here’s an enlightening video with cool doodles that applies this concept to our outlook on life and how that affects the state of our being
Dr. Joe Dispenza - Learn How to Reprogram Your Mind
So how do I practice speaking kindly to myself? As the title suggests, this book has six science-back exercises to help train our inner voices. Reading the book gave me the knowledge. The daily practice is churning it into understanding. Very. Very. Slowly. For I’m seeing slight improvements in how I speak to myself. My tone is softer than I can recall. Dare, I say more loving. And when I hear that negative self-chatter, which is still present, still loud, I have more tools to help hit reset.
Through the exercises learned and practiced in The Self-Talk Workout, I’m optimistic I’m able to change my relationship with my inner voice into a source from which I can live with quiet confidence. Ahh. Agency. It's delightful! So if you, like me, struggle with speaking kindly to yourself, gift yourself this book. From within its cover, you might find agency, hope, and kindness. I have.
A Creepy Flash Story by Me
I have a creepy story to share, titled, “The Poacher,” which is a horror flash story (less than 1000 words) of mine, so you get to jump in and jump out before the blood becomes too thick and drowning. It’s published by Black Hare Press and will be a part of their Year Six anthology, published in 2025. Oh! The glacial realities of publishing! But lucky for you, it’s available now on their Patreon page for all supporters. Here’s a link to the story for your instant horror gratification.
Want a logline for “The Poacher?” Of course! I got you: The Poacher, a connoisseur of scotch, jazz, and seduction, has found her bloody fountain of youth: a needle, some thread, & your skin.
If you like stories dipped in bizarro and sprinkled with a dash of gore, you’ll like this flash. I’d be delighted if you gave it a read.
Some Missoula Views
I’m fortunate to have gorgeous scenery outside my doorstep. It’s a feature that first drew my wife and me to Missoula. Looking out and up helps when depression dims everything but the negative from within. Also, it primes my motivation to get outside to move in various exerting ways. My favorites are mountain biking and hiking. As my mountain bike is currently in off-season disrepair, here are a few pictures from a few hikes.
The First Dog in Space Ate Tacos
Dude! My kiddo wrote me a book for my birthday! And let me tell you the kiddo has some story-telling chops. I don’t think I could scribe up a better hook as a title. Proud of him for the person he is, his loves, his quirks, his big ol’ heart. He delivers delight after delight into each of my days. I love him immensely.
Lastly, before I go, here’s a promotional reminder that preorders are available for Writers of the Future, Volume 40. My award-winning story, “Squiddy,” is amongst the fifteen amazing fantasy and science fiction short stories that make the anthology. Also included are essays on craft and spectacular illustrations for each short story. I’m honored to have a story included. Want a primer for “Squiddy"?” When squids from outer space take over, a punk-rock P.I. must crawl out of her own miserable existence to find her client’s daughter—and maybe a way out. It’s a sci-fi, neo-noir story and near and dear to my heart as besides it winning the Writers of the Future contest, I’m currently novelizing it. Here’s the wickedly cool book trailer for the anthology.
Writers of the Future, Volume 40 book trailer
Until next Dopamine’s Delight….