Word: Axolotl

 

axolotl

[ ak-suh-lot-l ]

noun

1. any of several salamanders of the genus Ambystoma that inhabit lakes and ponds of Mexico and remain in the larval stage as sexually mature adults.

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               Today was the big day. The Calling Day was probably the biggest day in a person’s life. Everyone that had recently turned 16 was gathered, and all of them were either nervous, excited, or downright terrified.

               Ben fell into the latter category. His eyes darted around the courtyard, seeing all the people. Most of them were his peers, but a number of them were adults. Parents, mostly, but the various employees went around making sure everything was in order. Ben’s parents were there too, of course, waiting to see what Spirit Beast he got. He knew he would likely take after one of his parents, but there was no guarantee.

               That was what worried him the most. His dad’s Beast was a golden eagle and his mother had a black bear. Both good Beasts that had opened up a lot of doors for both of them. What if he did not get anything like them? What if he got something like a mouse or a shrew? His life would effectively be over. Even worse, what if he failed to bond with anything? That was rare, but it did happen. Even getting a dung beetle would be better than that.

               That thought alone was enough to send a cold sweat down his back. He was shaking so much that he barely noticed the presenter starting the ceremony. He was sure it was a great speech about how all Spirit Beasts were valuable. That the abilities they gave were always good. That there was none that were better than others. Everyone knew that last part was a lie, but nobody called him out on it.

               The bonding ceremony began not long after. There were too many people present for everyone to get their own Calling, so dozens of them were done at once. This was done by gathering great groups of teens up and shoving them into rough lines. Ben was jostled and pushed until he was in place. Then he simply let himself be carried by the flow of bodies towards the nearest ceremony altar.

               He was right behind another boy, who seemed quite sure of himself. Ben wrung his hands and found the floor suddenly much more fascinating. The boy in front of him was soon given access to the altar and the ceremony performed. A large, translucent tiger emerged in a bright light.

               “Tiger. Strength, patience, senses, natural weapons.” The woman performing the ceremony said. The boy seemed quite proud of himself. The tiger Spirit Beast vanished, merging with its bond mate.

               Nobody gave the boy any congratulations. There were too many people for that. He would no doubt get a party later. But Ben could not spare another thought about that. It was his turn. He climbed the single step onto the crude, hastily constructed altar.

               The woman read the ceremony quickly. Ben felt something. A deep warmth that focused deep inside of him. It did not grow much as it moved through him though. That worried him for a moment before the feeling popped out. The altar glowed just as brightly as any other time. But the animal present was much smaller than most.

               It looked amphibious, with smooth skin and a sleek body. Four stubby limbs rested at its side, pumping through the air like it was swimming. A wide, flat head with beady eyes looked at him, and the antenna-like growths stood out, two on each side. Ben looked at his new Spirit Beast in confusion. Then he looked at the woman performing the ceremony. She looked stumped for a moment.

               Only a moment though. She waved over a worker carrying a large book. A book that she consulted with practiced ease. It only took her a few seconds to find what she was looking for.

               “Ah, here it is. Axolotl.” She said. “Bit of a rare one. Let’s see. Regeneration, preserved youth, water breathing, and minor sensory sensitivity.”

               The Beast, axolotl, apparently, did what all Spirit Beasts did. It vanished into Ben’s body and he was guided off the altar by the worker once he had reclaimed the book.  Ben could feel it though. Not quite physical, but definitely there. It swam around his body like it was water, no doubt getting used to its new home.

               Ben considered what he had been told about his new bond mate. He supposed it could be worse. But now he just had to figure out what he was going to do with all that.

 ********************************

 

They're just funny looking little guys. Shame they're endangered though. Seriously, humans pretty much wrecked the few places they live. It's not cool.

Word: Eustress

 

eustress

[ yoo-stres ]

noun

1. physical, mental, or emotional tension that is caused by something positive or is psychologically or physically beneficial: When stress enhances function, such as when you’re lifting weights or accomplishing a challenging task, it could be considered eustress.

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               Nick’s footsteps were slow and plodding as he entered the apartment. He let his briefcase fall without even bothering to put it away. He would handle that later if Kelly didn’t. He didn’t even bother to change his clothes, or even take his shoes off, before flopping on the couch. And then he did exactly nothing.

               He did not even turn the TV on. He simply sat there with vacant eyes. A small, distant part of him said that he should do something. But that part was easy to ignore. His entire body felt heavy, like he was made of lead. He vaguely heard footsteps coming from the bathroom.

               “Oh hey, you’re back.” Kelly said.

               Nick slowly turned to look at his girlfriend. She was dressed like she had come back from the gym. Not that that was a surprise.

               “I just got back myself.” She said, confirming his guess. “Seems to be happening a lot, huh? I guess we’ve just synched up our schedules now. Oh hey, maybe we should do that on purpose. You know, come back at the same time and all that.”

               Nick did not say anything. He just slowly blinked. Kelly frowned at the sight.

               “Oh dear, something’s wrong.” She came and joined him on the couch. “What’s up? Bad day at work?”

               It was a monumental effort to speak. “Something like that.”

               “Want to tell me about it?”

               “Nah.”

               “Oh come on. It’s one of the many things I’m here for.”

               Nick let out a non-committal grunt. Kelly poked his side. He groaned. She repeated the poke.

               “Another guy left.” He said. His voice sounded flat, even to his own ear. “They put all his work on me. Again. I told them I couldn’t. I told them it was too much. But they don’t listen. They never listen. And now I’m here doing five people’s jobs. And…and I…I just…I can’t. Can’t keep doing all this work. Can’t tell my bosses about it. Can’t even afford to leave. I…Kelly, I feel like I’m about to break.”

               Kelly slid in closer to him and placed an arm around his shoulders. She was quite solid. In a way that alone was comforting. Nick didn’t have the energy to do anything else but sit there. She seemed perfectly fine letting him. They remained like that for almost a minute before she said anything.

               “I’m pretty bad at giving advice, especially about job stuff. I mean, my job is just to do stuff at the gym. So yeah, I’m not going to try and tell you what to do professionally. But I will ask if you want to try going to the gym with me one of these days. A good workout is a surprisingly effective method of stress relief.”

               Nick slowly looked at her and blinked equally slowly. “Oh yeah. Because when I come home from work, completely exhausted and stressed out from over working, doing something hard and strenuous is exactly what I want to do.”

               “Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it. I read online in a bunch of different places that there’s more than one kind of stress. I don’t remember the exact terms, so I’m probably about to butcher all this stuff, but there’s roughly two big categories of stress. Good stress and bad stress. Bad stress is what you’re going through at work. I don’t need to tell you much about that, because you’re living it. But good stress? That comes from things that feel bad in the moment, but end up benefiting you. Like working out. While you’re doing it, it’s hard, sweaty and can even hurt. But at the end of the day, it has all kinds of benefits. There’s even good stress for mental stuff, which I guess would be, like, solving worthwhile problems or talking to someone about your problems. They can suck, be really hard to do and feel like they’d make things worse. But once it’s all over, they leave you better off than before.”

               Nick let out a long, slow breath. This conversation definitely was not what he wanted to be doing right now. But he had heard that talking about problems could help, so maybe there was something to what she was saying. Maybe it would be worth giving it a try.

               “Okay, fine.” He said. “I’ll try it out. Just don’t expect me to keep up with you.”

               “Obviously. And not today. We’ll go on Saturday. I’ll start you off nice and light. Just get you used to everything and see how it all works out.”

               “Uh-huh.” Nick was not sure if she knew what “light” meant. He had seen the videos she posted of her workouts. They hurt just to watch.

               “But for now? Just take a few deep breaths. We can watch something dumb and just chill. Maybe order some take out?”

               “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

               It would not make things better, but for now, he could at least pretend to forget about work. And maybe a bit of exercise would do him good. If he did not have a complete mental breakdown before the weekend came anyway. 

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Remember to take care of yourself. Mentally and physically. 

 

Now I just have to remind myself to do that myself. 

Word: Plethora

 

plethora

[ pleth-er-uh ]

noun

1. overabundance; excess: His crisis brought him a plethora of advice and an almost complete lack of assistance.

2. a large quantity or wide array; a lot: The co-op program offers a plethora of advantages for students.Visitors are drawn to the main beach, where a plethora of watersports can be enjoyed.

*********************************

               David had never seen anything so great. It was by far the greatest thing he had ever seen, and likely ever would. The ramifications of seeing the greatest thing ever at just six years old was, of course, lost on the boy. All he knew was that nothing would ever compare to what he was seeing now.

               Shelves taller than Dad filled the space as far as he could see. Each shelf contained more colorful boxes than he could count. While he could admit that he could not count very high, that did not mean it was a small number of items. More than he could ever imagine even existing. And each box was filled with treasure.

               David’s eyes widened as he got to the back wall. If the shelves were a treasure trove, then he did not have any words to express how amazing, how awe inspiring, the sight before him was. It was single, long shelf with three tiered rows running along the entire length of the wall. And each tier was covered with clear glass jars. It was within those jars that David saw something that he knew would change everything.

               The colors, the shapes. It was almost more than he could process. The brilliant reds and greens and yellows. The glistening browns. Even a few black and white offerings. Shapes of animals and fruits. Of balls and beans and even blocks. This was a sacred place. A place that he almost couldn’t bring himself to approach.

               Mom was there, standing behind him. She looked at his new altar and chuckled. She casually approached the holy wall and took a small bag from between two jars. A pair of tongs followed. She opened one of the holy jars and removed a few of the treasures within, putting them in the bag. David’s eyes grew wide.

               Could he do the same? Could he bring himself to lay claim to the treasures in those jars? Mom did it like it was perfectly normal. David was not sure he could take so freely. But he worked up his courage and asked Mom if he could have his own bag. She looked to Dad, who was perusing the boxes on the other shelves. He looked at the wall, at the jars and shrugged. They had a short conversation. Something about bag weight and how much David could have.

               Then Mom took another bag and gave it to him. David could not reach the jars. At least, not enough to open them and retrieve the treasures within. Dad came to the rescue, lifting him up and holding him steady. David’s eyes opened wide. Dad said he could choose from four jars. Just four out of all of them? How was that possible? This was truly a holy task. A task meant to test his will and mettle. To select only four of the holy jars and claim their contents, when there were so many was nearly impossible.

               He looked at each one, carefully picking only those he felt would be best. And soon, he came to the conclusion. He chose one that contained offerings of colorful dinosaurs. Another that looked like his Legos. A third that were lumps of glossy light brown, and a fourth that were in the shape of bears that looked like they were once colorful, but had been elevated and cast in brown glory.

               They were not all he wanted to try. Not by a long shot. But Mom and Dad had set the rules for this task. Four jars. Four different treasures. He and Dad filled his bag. Although the one Mom had contained more, she would have to share with Dad. David got an entire bag all to himself, even if there was not much in it. It was still a worthy prize to take with him. A true treasure from the greatest thing, the greatest place, that David ever had or ever would be in his life.

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It is a sad day when you go into a candy store with one of these setups and realize that you can't take as much as you used to. Or when you see one and say to yourself that you really shouldn't. Or, well, just stop going into candy stores in general. Truly a sad day indeed.