Conk’s Brain Podcast

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published Is it selfish to want? Palms upturned to the sky, cover my eyes in exhaustion and despair. I clamber and claw, just trying to scale this impossible wall - is there even anyone on the other side? To create is lonely - beautiful, cathartic, revelatory, cavernous, dark, and futile. How many artists sit alone, churning out the passion and madness of their souls, only to be met with silence? Always more questions than answers, always an endless pursuit - chasing vapor trails through the darkness, clutching that one very tiny spark of hope in our chests. To create is lonely, but perhaps loneliness is necessary - maybe it’s in the void that we find ourselves. Thanks for listening! If this post speaks to you, I’d be honored if you would pass it on. Conk’s Brain is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber [http://www.conksbrain.substack.com]. You can also support me and share the love by buying me a cup of coffee [https://ko-fi.com/deedreconkey] on Ko-fi. To hear more, visit conksbrain.substack.com [https://conksbrain.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=show-notes-spotify-open-access]

I recently found the most comfortable underpants in the universe: excessively high waisted, super soft, very stretchy. I honestly forget I’m wearing them and would definitely not even bother with pants if I thought I wouldn’t be arrested for indecent exposure (or my butt wouldn’t freeze off in winter). So why am I telling you this? Trust that it’s not a last minute ploy for Christmas gifts. Instead, this is a “the new year is also most upon us” reminder to embrace the things that make you happy. Life is too short to tolerate shitty underpants (no pun intended). January is so very close and, while I don’t subscribe to the new year-new me nonsense, there is usually a very blank canvas feeling in the air. This year is different. I’d be a liar if I said that I’m not filled with fear and foreboding, but I’m also outright determined not to let that sink me. Yes, slightly more than half of the voting public chose an unhinged felon and narcissistic sociopath who tweets about annexing Canada at 3 am to lead the country. And yes, there is a chance that he makes good on every single threat to burn our democracy to the ground and resurrect a dictatorial monarchy in his own image. But even if this comes to pass, we still have to live in this new reality. Might as well be a reality with comfy underpants, right? I’m walking into the new year fully aware that control is an illusion and reminding myself to live in the present moment as much as humanly possible. Yes, my porches are rotting off and I can’t afford to repair them, but I can put out my rabbit statues and some potted plants. Yes, my bedroom ceiling has cracked plaster and the windows need replaced (also can’t afford to fix that), but I can put up a fresh coat of paint, some peel and stick wallpaper, and new curtains. My focus going into 2025 is re-wiring my brain to find the joy and embrace genuine gratitude wherever possible. I mean, I might as well start practicing now. I highly encourage you to join me in this exercise of letting go and leaning in. Take for example this story my mother told me as a child when I asked her what “optimism” and “pessimism” meant. Once upon a time there were two little boys, one was a pessimist and the other an optimist. The first boy, a pessimist, was put in a room full of brand new toys, positively packed from floor to ceiling, and then left alone to play. The second boy, an optimist, was put in an empty horse stable with horse poop as far as the eye could see and then left alone. After a few hours, the grown ups went back to see how things were going. The first boy was sitting in his room full of toys crying. “What on earth is the matter?” asked the grown ups. “Well,” said the boy, “some of the toys aren’t ones that I like and others will probably just break if I play with them, either way it’s just awful.” Naturally, the grown ups went to check on the second boy thinking that surely he would be even more upset than the first. Imagine their surprise when they discovered him gleefully shoveling horse poo from one side of the stable to the other. “What on earth are you doing?” the adults asked. The boy just smiled and said, “Well, with all this horse poop, I figure there must be a pony in here somewhere!” Clearly this is a story I’ve never forgotten. Happiness isn’t about actually feeling happy all the time, or even about trying to control or predict everything that is coming. Instead it is about being determined to find the joy. It’s the decision to remind yourself a thousand times a day, if that’s what it takes, that we’re not going to let the bastards keep us down. Go out there and find your own comfortable underpants, or whatever is their equivalent. You don’t have to justify your choices to anyone. Be weird, be passionate, be loud - march to the beat of your own drum. It’s time to let go of what we think should be and simply embrace what is.  I believe in you, I believe in us. We can do hard things. No go out there and seize the underpants, I mean the day, seize the day my friends.  Thanks for listening! If this post speaks to you, I’d be honored if you to pass it on. Conk’s Brain is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber [https://www.conksbrain.substack.com]. You can also share the love and buy me a cup of hot chocolate on Ko-fi. [https://www.ko-fi.com/deedreconkey] To hear more, visit conksbrain.substack.com [https://conksbrain.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=show-notes-spotify-open-access]

I dream of the life I could be living, riding the ebb and flow of mountains - breathing deeply of the air and sky and sea. I dream of daffodils and tall green forests, tiny cottages in a mystical wood. I dream of having less but gaining more, of clean rooms with comfortable well worn furniture, rows of books and the flicker of candle light. I dream of silence not broken by ticking clocks, but the songs of birds drifting faintly on the wind - the tinkle of chimes on a covered porch as I rock in a wooden Adirondack chair sipping hot tea beneath the stars. Thanks for listening! If this post speaks to you, I’d be honored if you would pass it on. Conk’s Brain is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber [http://www.conksbrain.substack.com]. You can also support me and share the love by buying me a cup of coffee [https://ko-fi.com/deedreconkey] on Ko-fi. To hear more, visit conksbrain.substack.com [https://conksbrain.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=show-notes-spotify-open-access]

This morning, I find myself ruminating once again on the words of Charles Bukowski “We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that death will tremble to take us”. I have decided that I’m going into 2025 laughing like a madman. The world is chaos and the only thing we can control is ourselves. I am recklessly determined to find the good. Social media has been an epic clusterfuck of hopelessness, abject ignorance, and plain old meanness for far too long now. We get stuck in this endless cycle of doom scrolling (or dopamine scrolling) and forget to come up for air. It’s rare when we take a moment to actually reflect on the culture that has been curated in our online spaces. I get it. A lot of us rely on platforms like TikTok or Instagram to provide us with actual news that hasn’t been bought and paid for by the corporate dollar. It’s also the first point of contact for family, old friends, and community groups. While some have managed to swear off social media all together (and others never boarded ship to begin with), we must acknowledge that it can be an incredibly useful tool. Unfortunately, it’s also as lawless as an old western in many regards. The government has fallen woefully short of even understanding online spaces, let alone regulating them. They’re about to throw TikTok under the bus with a ban in January, but disregard the same unethical practices when applied to platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. People just get away with being shitty to each other online: scamming, threats, name calling, stalking, harassment. Too many people just throw up their hands in defeat, what am I supposed to do about it? This is just the price of participating online. You knew the risks before you became a content creator. The list goes on. But, go with me here, what if we actually do have some control? I’m not here to advocate for completely sanitizing social media or to imply that could even be done. I am here to chuckle maniacally at the odds. There is undeniable correlation between the chaotic state of affairs in our nation and our attitudes toward social media. You remember the old song 🎶 don’t rock the boat baby🎶 In our everyday lives, we adhere to that principal as gospel truth. We have been taught to zip our lips and look the other way when it comes to racism, sexism, heterosexism - basically all the isms. I have worked for employers that simply wouldn’t hire a woman for certain jobs, paid men more for their work, and allowed employees to make subtly (and overtly) racist comments. I listened to my own dad crack tasteless jokes about gay people, fat people, and people of color. Too many of us have been taught to turn the other cheek, and let it slide. Good girls don’t speak up. They stay quiet - know their place. Well, I’m calling bullshit. We teach other people how to treat us by what we are willing to tolerate. It’s not easy or comfortable to stand up, but nothing changes if nothing changes. This is equally true for online spaces. I am choosing to move away from platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok because I’m not ok with the constant barrage of inflammatory rhetoric and absolute lack of platform accountability and moderation (just Google Zuckerberg lawsuit it’s eye opening). There will never be a “perfect” platform, but we can choose where we reside and how we exist in those spaces. We can set boundaries and defend them fiercely. Here are just a few suggestions for protecting your own peace and creating the change you want to see in collective online spaces: Do not, I repeat, DO NOT feed the trolls. Yes, we can constructively disagree like civilized human beings, but trolls are not civilized and often, not even human (bots anyone?). Do not engage and if you must, call them out in as few words as possible while being clear about your boundaries: Not cool. I don’t tolerate this kind of behavior, keep it up and you will be blocked and reported. Use the block button liberally. You have a block button for a reason, don’t be afraid to use it. Don’t give those assholes any of your headspace. Use the report button liberally. If someone is just being a do-do head and arguing for the sake of being a blow hard, by all means just block them. If they are threatening you, bullying you, disseminating blatantly false or harmful information, or you are positive they are a bot, REPORT THEM. If you see them engaging in any of this behavior to others, REPORT THEM. Do not let bad behavior stand. Apply numbers 1-3 in all applicable situations. No, you aren’t obligated to become a keyboard warrior policing every one’s comment sections. You should flex your boat rocking muscles when necessary though. The more we hold people to account for their actions, the less shitty behavior will be tolerated in general. I hope you use these newfound permissions to defiantly kick down the door of 2025 determined to find the joy. This doesn’t require perpetual feelings of happiness, toxic positivity (or copious amounts of drugs). It does require the understanding and acceptance that we can’t control the chaos. The universe will universe and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. We can choose to not let this chaos define us. We can protect our boundaries, take less shit from the people around us, and seize every opportunity to live. Wear the unicorn horn headband, eat off of the good plates, commune with nature as often as possible, look up at the moon with childlike wonder, sing loudly in church even if it’s off key. Live so well, in every moment that you can, that death will tremble to take you. Thanks for reading! If this post speaks to you, I’d be honored if you to pass it on. Conk’s Brain is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber [https://www.conksbrain.substack.com]. You can also share the love and buy me a cup of coffee on Ko-fi. [https://www.ko-fi.com/deedreconkey] To hear more, visit conksbrain.substack.com [https://conksbrain.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=show-notes-spotify-open-access]

Fifteen is tempestuous, hurtling through time and space at break-neck speeds - desperately searching for anything you can cling on to. In the back of the library, Spring of 1997 to be precise, I crashed full stop into a solid anchor. Nikki Giovanni - the first poet I ever loved. She metered me to Jones beach, lyric-ed me in lilacs, taught me that poetry did not have to rhyme. It was savage, and primal, and beautiful… a way to put your insides on the outside. I held onto my copy of Those Who Ride the Night Winds so long that I had to pay fines - but I didn’t care. The sky had ripped open and birthed a thousand stars - a beautiful, ethereal fire that burns in my chest even still. for Nikki Giovanni ( June 7, 1943 – December 9, 2024) Thanks for listening! If this post speaks to you, I’d be honored if you would pass it on. Conk’s Brain is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber [http://www.conksbrain.substack.com]. You can also support me and share the love by buying me a cup of coffee [https://ko-fi.com/deedreconkey] on Ko-fi. To hear more, visit conksbrain.substack.com [https://conksbrain.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=show-notes-spotify-open-access]