They Think We're Stupid Because We Are - Arlene Karbashewski

So you're sitting at home enjoying a nice evening with your family when the doorbell rings.



"Hello, I'm from ABC Security Systems and I'm selling new security systems in your neighbourhood. Are you interested?"



"Well, no, not right now. We're in a pretty secure neighbourhood, but thanks anyway."



And you shut the door thinking to yourself, "That was easy."



Two weeks later, there's a rash of thefts in your nice, quiet neighbourhood. Not everyone on the block gets hit. Just the ones that don't have dogs, security systems, etc...



Get the picture?



We mindlessly answer our front door letting strangers inside to scope out our possessions, discover our weaknesses and give them information they can use against us to steal our sense of security along with our stuff.



It's time to smarten up people! It's time to start taking names and numbers. Ask, no better yet, DEMAND to see their driver's license or any other form of government issued identification.



Business cards can be printed on any laptop. It doesn't make them real. Would you like to see my Law Degree from Serves-you-right University?



If they're legit, they should have no problem providing you with their information.



Don't let them call the shots, you have every right to know who's standing on your property. Don't take no for an answer - it is your business and your right to ask!



If they can't show ID, call the RCMP. Take notice of their appearance. Height, weight, clothing, etc. and look for a vehicle. You're doing the whole neighbourhood a favor by being proactive.



GET SMART!

Fresh Blood - Arlene Karbashewski

The ancient courtyard sits in poised silence as tendrils of mist creep along its paths in search of warm blooded creatures. Black moss protects my bare feet from the icy stones on which I stand. For the thousandth time I let my thoughts wander across the familiar grounds.



Kings walked this courtyard once. They were the great ones, the Kings, who orchestrated the battles between men and monsters only to fill the mouths of dragons with the bones and the blood of the unworthy and the weak. That was before the first war of this world, a hundred world wars ago.



Carefully I measure the mood upon the surface of the pool before me. It wears the shades of silver and gray reflected by the winter sky above. I peer over the edge, my toes itching to break the glassy surface and send ripples across its flatness. Are they awake?



They can’t know – the others - what lies in wait at the bottom. It’s a secret I cherish, paid for with my own sanity almost a hundred challenges ago.



I slip off my robe - a gift of virgin silk that binds me to this existence. It falls silently to my feet. I am not shy of my nakedness. I wear my scars proudly.



I slide into the water and sigh at the familiar touch of the black seaweed against my thighs. It recognizes me and wraps its loving tendrils around my nakedness protecting me from the depths. I pretend to swim as the seaweed carries me through the water. They must not suspect. Not yet.



I’m in the middle of the pool now. The place where all was lost. My life, my love, my sanity. I submerge my face and for just a brief moment I open my eyes. My protectors tighten their hold at my willfulness.



It stirs as it senses my sightless observation. From the endless depths it sends a warning – a threat of pure nothingness that tears at the fibers of my mind. It is awake now and it is hungry. I quickly shut my eyes. Water fills my mouth. It burns like acid reaching into my throat. My warning, my punishment. I lift my head and let the water pour back into the pool.



I complete my lap through the water. I pull myself out and sit on the edge to allow my feet to dangle. I am warm. I feel safe. I cannot say the same for the others.



The contenders are blind to the inhabitant of the pool. They show no fear. As it was for me a lifetime ago, as it should be today.



The first to enter is fearless. A warrior, a victor with a taste for bloodshed. His laughter echoes loudly. Disrespectfully. A grave mistake the mist has witnessed before. It swirls around the contender in slow, graceful circles, saying goodbye.



Courage has no value here. Fear, hope, love – all that humankind holds dear – becomes meaningless and worthless at the gates of this hell. I speculate that it all tastes the same to that which lies at the bottom.



I silently say goodbye as he enters the pool. As I once did, he battles the seaweed, ripping at its loving and caring limbs. He is strong in will and might and swims lightly across the surface on his own. The seaweed sighs knowing the end is near.



He glides through the water in perfect rhythm. Ripples lap at my dangling feet sending shivers up my legs. Then, as lightly as a lover’s sigh, it begins - a subtle but unmistakable shudder that caresses my skin. A vibration that ripples across the swimmer, invisible to all but me, that gently and quietly steals all reason from his mind. Quietly, ever so careful not to draw attention, I pull my feet from the water.



It’s over for him and as he pulls himself out of the pool to stand beside me, I witness the nothingness in his eyes. The grin of the mindless, forever frozen on his lips, he wanders away, naked and dripping, the mist lapping at his skin, lost forever in the secret of the pool.



First course complete, an appetizer of reason served cold. The second already swimming toward his demise, clueless to the hellhound that lies in wait, finds deception in his achievements.



The thunder feels as if it comes from the sky, but only I know better. Here it comes. From the depths, it stirs the poison up toward the surface and the swimmer is bathed in its saliva. Shudders rock the courtyard as its appetite is aroused. This one climbs out next to me with all his wits about him. Tomorrow the sun will rise upon his corpse, unrecognizable to loved ones who have never seen him without his skin before.



The sky brightens as the last competitor, the two who swim as one, gently slide into the pool. The mist stops its wandering across the courtyard and stills in anticipation.



Courage and fear, times two, paddle through the water like puppies fighting to keep their chins dry. They glance at each other, they smile at each other, feeding and nurturing and loving.



Poor, pathetic souls, I think to myself. My watery seaweed companions bob and sway in agreement. To what end will they meet today? Will it be quick and bubbly or slow and frothy? I’ve seen both, and either way it’s always very bloody.

The tremors begin as they approach the middle of the pool - heavy, thunderous earthquake tremors that resonate deep inside my stomach. I swallow to keep from vomiting.



The secret rises up from the endless depth, a vortex of darkness sucking at the swimmers who cling to each other in helplessness. They wrap their limbs around each other as if becoming one. They close their eyes against the sight of the teeth that emerge in a perfect and beautiful circle.



I cannot help but admire the beauty of the scene before me. Time slows down to bear witness to the perfectly orchestrated dance: thousands of sharp, white teeth bear down upon the swimmers as they twirl and twist and turn. 



But the teeth act not of one creature. They do not come together to chew at their prey like the giant jaws of a single animal. Instead, they slice and pierce and carve independently from one another in such a way as to fill the pool with chunky, bloody pieces of flesh that swirl and stir in a broth of blood and fat. Today, it is a slow and frothy scene as one swimmer is carved away from the other into puzzle pieces never to be put back together.



Only one finds death at the dance of the teeth. The other is left alone, scarred and scared with nothing but our seaweed for comfort. Tendrils lay the survivor at my feet, a weeping and sobbing puddle. There is no remedy for the madness that ensues. As I stare down at the bloody mess, I smile. My time is done here. They have a new plaything now. I am free. The secret has been shared. Welcome to my world.

Evolution of the Human Species - Arlene Karbashewski

Imagine a world free of discrimination. What would it look like?



Imagine what it would be like to live without gender inequality or racial profiling.



What would have to change to allow our species to let go of such things?



Would it be a shift in culture, belief, habit, practice, etc. or would something greater have to occur? Something outside of our own ability to choose, to decide, to control?



What if it is already happening? Does that cause concern for some? Comfort for others?



We have studied our own evolution. We have traced our path and ascertained that as we evolve, we improve. What makes us think we have stopped evolving? I believe, in fact, we continue to do so. We just don’t recognize or understand what it looks like.



Other species on the planet have very subtle differences, if any, between genders. Their physiology does not define their existence.



Why?



What if our species is evolving to resolve this very imbalance by introducing a physiology that cannot be determined as being either male or female?



Does that sound like anyone you may already know? Is this something you have experienced?



I believe we are a species evolving toward a higher level of being that will allow us to exist in a world free of gender inequality and racial discrimination simply by removing the physical indicators that allow for profiling at a subconscious and conscious level.



I believe we live among people who have already been born with this gift. I believe they have existed for generations, hiding in plain sight.



They are different and confusing to the rest of us. We define them as "not normal" because we do not recognize them for who they are. Sadly, they do not recognize themselves for who they are either. Instead, they accept our definition and in a desperate attempt to become "normal" they undergo surgical procedures and therapies to conform.



I can only imagine what this world will be like when we finally open our eyes and see our own evolution.



Imagine.

New Spin on an Old Tale

Zeke and the 3 Pig Band

By Arlene Karbashewski

“He’s probably not even home,” Tommy muttered as the three pigs trotted up the walkway to their band mate’s house. Tommy could think of at least a million other things he would rather be doing on such a sunny afternoon as this. One of them was playing his drums.

Jimmy stood tall and stuck out his chin. “Oh, Zeke’s home alright, “said Jimmy, pointing and nodding at Zak and Tommy. “I bet he’s sound asleep all curled up like a little wolf cub.”

If Zeke was sleeping, Jimmy thought, then it was time to wake him up. Jimmy knocked on the door.

Knock!

Knock!

Knock!

“But it’s already after lunch,” Zak said as he checked the time on his cellphone. All he could think about was the big bowl of corn chowder and chunk of sweet cornbread waiting for him at home. His mouth watered and his little round pig belly grumbled at the thought.

It was quiet inside the little red brick house while the three pigs waited outside in the midday sun. Zeke missed their band practice this morning as he slept the day away, probably snoring and scratching and dreaming of full moons and rock songs.

Jimmy knocked on the door again, but louder this time.

KNOCK.

KNOCK.

KNOCK.

 “Wake up, Zeke!” Jimmy hollered at the wooden door.

“He’s not answering. We might as well go…” Tommy sighed as he drummed his drumsticks on top of the wooden railing and against the red bricks of Zeke’s house. Tap, tap, tap, ta-ta-tap, tap, tap, tap.

Zak shook his head at Tommy and stretched his pink pig ear toward the door. “Just wait a bit. I think I hear something…”

CRASH!

BOOM!

SMASH!

“Owwwoooohh!” Zeke howled from somewhere inside the house.

Jimmy smiled as a piggly giggle escaped his lips, “See? I told you he was sleeping.”

“Yeah, but not anymore, that’s for sure,” mumbled Tommy drumming faster and staring wide-eyed at the door.

Thump, thump, thump, THUMP, down the hall the footsteps came, getting louder and louder with each thump. “This better be important,” growled Zeke from right behind the closed door.

Finally, the big door swung open letting out a blast of warm air that smelled of wet wolf fur and stinky feet.

“Oh, hi guys,” Zeke said as he scratched at the mess of fur between his giant black ears and shook his whole body from head to tail just the way big black wolfs do when they wake up from a cozy sleep.

“Zeke, we need to talk to you about something,” Jimmy said as he took a seat in the big easy chair, swinging his legs as his boots dangled above the floor.

“Sorry about the mess, guys,” Zeke smiled apologetically as he scanned the empty pizza boxes and stacks of song books piled on the floor. “I wasn’t expecting company so early in the day.”

Zak who was sitting beside Tommy on Zeke’s couch plucked his cellphone out of his pocket and sighed, “But it’s after lunch, Zeke.” He rubbed his grumbly tummy.

Zeke blinked in surprise, “Really? Oh, I thought it was still morning.” He fidgeted with his bright red suspenders as he squatted on a little wooden footstool. His guests had taken up all the big seats.

“So, you want to talk to me about something?” Zeke asked as he filled the air with black wolf hair from scratching at his ears, neck and chest.

“Well,” Jimmy started to say as he waved away the black hair floating in front of his face, “we’re worried about you.”

Zeke looked from one pig to the other, eyes wide with confusion. “Worried? About me? But why?”

Zak blew a wolf hair off the end of his snout and said, “You sleep all day and you’re late coming to band practice, that is, if you don’t miss practice completely, which is happening a lot lately. It’s hard to practice without a singer and you’re the best singer of us all.”

“He’s the only singer of us all,” Tommy grumbled as he tapped out a beat on the arm of the couch while wishing he were anywhere else but here.

Jimmy added, “Maybe it’s time you went on vacation. You could go to the beach.”

Zeke shook his head, “But I don’t want to go to the beach. The sand gets in my fur and makes me really itchy,” he argued, “and besides, I’m still the same Zeke who loves to sing and dance and fly kites.” Zeke, thinking about sand, started scratching at his back filling the air with his wolfy hair again.

“I love flying kites,” Tommy whispered from the couch, “Except when they get stuck in the trees.”

Zeke smiled at Tommy, “Yeah, me too. And who climbs up the tree to get your kite unstuck?”

“Well, you do of course,” replied Tommy.

“See?” Zeke held out his big furry paws while he pleaded for his friends to agree.

Tommy nodded with hope in his eyes but Zak and Jimmy shook their heads in dismay. Sadly, Zak said, “You’re scary, Zeke. Lately, you howl when you sing and growl and gnash your teeth at the crowd and sometimes you look hungry, really hungry, and lick your lips, just like you’re doing right now.”

“No! That’s not true!” Zeke growled, slimy wolf spit flying in the hairy air making him lick his lips with his big, red, wolf tongue. As he slurped up his own wolf spit, he suddenly realized the pigs were telling him the truth. He bowed his head. His lower lip quivering, he asked, “But what about the band? Who will you get to sing if I’m not here?”

The pigs looked at each other. No one wanted to speak, not even Jimmy. Finally, Zak cleared his throat. “What if we ask Farmer Todd’s daughter to fill in?” Zak really liked her pretty blonde curls and blue eyes and he hoped the other pigs would like his idea.

Tommy scowled and shook his head. “Terrible idea, just terrible,” he replied. “Don’t you all remember what happened last summer when she sang with the Three Blind Mice? Stella, the Farmer’s wife, cut off their tails!”

Zeke nodded frantically as he added, “With a carving knife!”

“Exactly,” muttered Tommy, “she’s dangerous.”

The pigs sat quietly thinking while Zeke sat quietly whimpering.

Suddenly Jimmy sat up tall and exclaimed, “I know, what about Little Bo Peep? She’s kind and sweet and loves to sing…”

Zak and Tommy looked at each other in shock as Zak replied, “Oh no, no, no, not her, Jimmy, she’s, uh, not well.”

Jimmy looked confused, “What are you all talking about?”

Zak explained, “Well, just last week Little Bo Peep lost all her sheep and when she finally found them, someone had cut off their tails! Miss Peep was so upset she tried to sew their poor little sheep tails back on. It was a terrible mess.”

Tommy nodded as he said, “She’s been hospitalized ever since and they took her sheep away.”

Zeke shook his head sadly as he cried, “Sad, so sad.”

Out of ideas, the pigs sat quietly once more. Zeke sniffed and sighed trying not to cry. If only he could stay, he thought. He wished his friends could see what a nice wolf he really was. But what could he do?

Suddenly he had an idea. He wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up straight and tall as he asked his three pig friends a very important question. “I may be howly and growly and even a bit smelly but I’m a good singer and a great friend. If I promise to be on time to every practice, if I promise not to growl and howl at the crowd and if I promise not to scare anyone with my big wolfy fangs, would you let me stay?”

 The pigs looked at one another, thinking very hard.

Jimmy finally asked, “You’ll come to every practice and be on time?”

Zak added, “And you’ll try your best not to growl and howl at the crowd?”

Tommy chimed in, “You don’t scare me.”

Before Zeke could answer, there was a KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK at his front door.

Zeke opened the door.

“Hello, my name is Justin,” said the little beaver standing on the doorstep. He wore a ball cap on his big round head and a bright white t-shirt and baggy jeans. His big beaver eyes sparkled with glee and his smile dazzled in the sun. “I’m new in town,” said the beaver, “and I’m looking for the three little pigs who play in a band? You see, I’m a singer…”

Zeke glared at the little beaver, took a great big breath, and as loudly as he could, he howled, “GO AWAY, GO AWAY! GET OFF MY LAND! YOU WON’T TAKE MY PLACE IN THIS LITTLE PIG BAND!”

Eyes wide and very terrified, the little beaver cried, “Sorry, so sorry!” and ran away as fast as little beaver legs could carry him.

Zeke kept his promises and came to every practice and he hardly ever growled and howled which made everyone very happy. And the little Justin beaver was never heard from again.

THE END.

The Power Within Us All – Arlene Karbashewski

Visualize yourself sitting on a beach.



What do you see? A lake, an ocean, seashells, waves, rocks, sand, a beach umbrella, other sunbathers.



What do you hear? The waves lapping at the shore, seagulls crying, kids laughing.



What do you smell? Sea salt - sharp and tangy, sunblock - sweet like coconut, seaweed - wet and earthy.



Just take a moment to let this visualization live and breathe in your mind. Give it a chance to really take up some space in your thoughts.



How does this make you feel?  Happy, relaxed, calm, content.



Now let’s change it up.



Visualize yourself getting news of a death of someone close to you. Your mother, father, son, daughter, friend, coworker, pet.



They are gone. Their life cut short. You will miss them terribly. Devastation, sadness, worry, heartbreak overwhelm every thought, every breath, every second of every day.



Our minds are powerful tools. Most of the time we let our thoughts flow freely, without any thought to how they affect us physically, and mentally. We can get caught up in our thoughts and "worry ourselves sick" without realizing how detrimental this can be to our well-being.



Of course we would mourn the loss of a loved one. But what we need to realize is that quite often we find ourselves in a very similar emotional state over things that do not matter.



Waiting in line. Anywhere.



Dealing with an upset customer.



Telephone solicitors.



Neighbours.



If we could just be more "mindful" of our minds during our regular day-to-day activities, learn to quell our negative thoughts and turn them into positive ones, we would feel the effects almost immediately.



It's been proven... ( http://www.holisticonline.com/guided-imagery.htm)



We are very good at comforting others in their times of need. We unconsciously reach out to those around us who need some support and find it very easy to give others the hugs they need only to hear, "Thanks, I needed that."



Visualization is a powerful tool. Use it to turn off your negative thoughts. Use it to control the endless day to day worries that chip away at your positive energy.



It is within us all to be happier. It is within us all to be positive and strong for our own sake as well as for the sake of those close to us.