lightworkscompendium

[lightworkscompendium]

The more people change, adapt and evolve as a species, the more things irrevocably and ultimately stay the same. The sun always rises in the east and sets to the west. The moon always has its phases as it grows from darkness to light, and then back as it rests. Even as great gray walls are erected and cities are built to house humanity en masse, the very nature of being human has not once changed in the end.

Life begets more life. And death, well - death, ultimately, arrives eventually and oftentimes without any warning or explanation. The unforgiving, usually unwanted visitor that snatches our loved ones away when we least expect it. People, without question, will always succumb to this fate eventually, no matter how long and hard one seeks out the magical elixir of eternal life and youth. Though, humans surely can attempt, no? Whatever gives them solace and peace in their fleeting existence, attempting to defy reality.

Without a doubt, death remains a constant even when it inevitably also evolves with us and integrates as part of the society we’ve built around ourselves. I’ve met death once before, as you might garner from all of that. Our meeting wasn’t by chance, nor was it under a circumstance that I can find any pride in, yet I cannot say I regret it either. I’ll say in no uncertain terms though, we did meet on what I would describe as the darkest night of my life. As a result, I came to realize that everything I thought I knew about the world, life, death, and even God, wasn’t all that it seemed. Not even my view on humanity itself, and each face that passes by me on the sidewalk every day, was quite as I’d always believed. Everything I thought I knew - was wrong. I was never quite so happy to learn that I could be so utterly wrong about everything, either.

I’ll tell you the story now, of how Death doesn’t ride a horse, or row a boat to ferry you across the River Styx. Death wasn't quite glamorous, nor were they a macabre skeleton with a scythe held at my neck while reaping my soul. For me, Death drove a plain white bus in the dead of night, politely pulling up to the sidewalk where I waited without quite knowing just what I was waiting for.

–

I can't remember what was going through my head or even the circumstances that led up to it, in all honesty. I remember the dread in my stomach, the pain in my chest, the bruises and cuts all over my body - both self inflicted and otherwise. I can't remember the exact instance that finally sent me over the edge, but I do remember that it was a conglomeration of many things. Low self worth. No confidence. I was a doormat to everyone and everything because as far as I cared, I didn't matter. My feelings didn't matter. I was a failure of a person in every way, someone who could never please anyone, no matter how hard I tried to. These ideas had been drilled into me from a young age, as seems to be true for a good many people who suffer the same feelings.

I remember how tired I was of everything, of absolutely everything and how badly I wanted it all to end. To end, permanently. After all, if I was as worthless as I felt at that moment, as useless and pitiful as everyone made me feel, then it wasn't a loss to anyone. Much less myself, since I wouldn't be wasting space, consuming food, and otherwise being in everyone else's way. I'd finally stop feeling, finally stop being a burden, and everyone else would finally be rid of me at long last. It was a comforting thought, as horrific as it was. I knew it was horrifying. I also didn't care.

So, come the dead of night and somewhere between feeling that existential dread buried in the pit of my stomach, and feeling nothing but absolute numbness, I did it. I took my entire bottle of sleeping medication, choking down every single pill with a certain finality that set in only after I'd swallowed them. This would be freedom. This would be the release from pain I'd sought all along! I laid there in the darkness of my bedroom afterwards, waiting for the inevitable sluggishness of my brain shutting down, and the shallow breaths I could only imagine would soon join, until they ceased all together. Death would claim me that night, and I finally felt peace knowing it.

–I couldn't really explain why even if I tried, but I remember laying there in the dark, feeling my consciousness starting to slip after a bit. I was crying of all things. In spite of this being exactly what I wanted, I was crying like a damned fool and soaking my stupid, ugly old pillow with those tears. I'm sure I cried all the way until I finally lost consciousness all together, but I can't remember that much. By that point I wasn't even aware if my breathing ever did stop. Everything was pure darkness. Everything was also peaceful.

–Or maybe I'm interjecting that feeling, in hindsight. Maybe at that moment I didn't actually feel anything at all because I'd lost that capacity with the total shutdown of mental function. It sounds better to say I was at peace, though, doesn't it?

–And then, I woke up. Sort of.

I woke up in a place I didn't exactly recognize at first; like waking up somewhere you don't remember falling asleep and having to retrace your steps so you can remember exactly how you got there. Except, I couldn't retrace my steps, and when I ‘woke up’, I was just standing outside with the rain pouring down all around me. It took a while of me just standing there in the rain for the memory of the night to slowly come back to me, vivid snapshots of my own body laying there in that old, shitty bed I slept on every night.

The memories of taking my medication, purposely overdosing myself to end it all. Where I normally felt that horrid existential dread buried in my stomach like a bar of lead, I found that I felt nothing anymore. It wasn't the numbness of before, either - maybe peace is the best way I can describe it. Peace that soon held a bittersweet edge to it, a weird sense of finality that was dawning on me the longer I stood there in the rain. The rain, I didn't feel it after all. It was like teardrops from the sky, I thought - crying for me? That was a hard one to believe, but I felt it in my stomach somehow, where the dread of before had overshadowed everything else.

I started to walk, hands outstretched in front of myself as if to try and catch and feel that pouring rain all around me. Yet, I could feel nothing - as if the rain was unable to touch me anymore. As if I was simply there, and yet nowhere at the same time. Existing, but not. Alive in a sense, but I already knew the truth in that I had succeeded and this wasn't just some kind of deep dream. At that moment, I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that I was dead and there was no going back from that.

It was a weird sense that I can't describe in a way that is easily understood unless you've felt a similar way - but the closest thing I can use to describe it must be intuition. It was a feeling that echoes outward from the stomach and creates a little voice in your head, or perhaps an automatic epiphany of some sort. As I walked alongside a long stretch of road, with the sun setting somewhere in the distant beyond that I couldn't see, I knew I'd squandered something invaluable. Something so precious in the world, that had slipped between my open hands like sand.

It certainly hadn't felt like it in the moment - it felt like the only way out of the personal hell I was living in. Maybe that had also been an excuse. An easy way out of dealing with it all alone, because I felt so damn powerless to deal with it all on my own. Or maybe it was believing in the lies others had told me about myself, believing that maybe they could see through me in ways I couldn't see myself. Whatever the reason was, whatever I had chosen and acted on, I didn't blame myself somehow. It didn't feel right to. It was bittersweet and terribly sad to have it all dawn on me with the weight finally off my shoulders, but I didn't immediately hate myself as I normally would have. I didn't spiral into a self-loathing mantra of all the ways I was a fucking idiot.

I just was. I was just a human. A human who had made a sad, but understandable mistake. What was done was done.

I didn't wander for very long, it seemed. It felt like it couldn't have been more than ten or twenty minutes at most, although the exact amount of time is still not known to me. Eventually, up ahead of me on the road, I saw a big white bus driving up - the first sign of any kind of ‘life’ I'd seen since I woke up. I waved, flailed, and held my hands out in hope that maybe they would see me and stop, even if the idea felt absurd given my epiphany of being dead. To my surprise, the bus slowed and pulled off to the side, before coming to a complete stop just feet away from where I stood. The mechanical doors opened up a moment later, inviting me in without a word. I remember standing there dumbly for a few minutes, as if processing that the bus was, in fact, stopping for me and that I was welcome there.

I remember being surprised by that. Despite all my flailing about on the side of a road like an absolute madman, I really hadn't expected it to stop for me. I hadn't even expected it to be able to see me - although in hindsight once more, a pure white bus on an otherwise empty and desolate road, is just a tiny bit abnormal, no? I know now that it was going to stop regardless of my flailing, but I did give the driver a bit of a laugh at least.

“Well? Waiting for something?” The driver said with what I'd call a charismatic smile and a melodious chuckle. I was dumbstruck just a moment more before I shook my head quickly and climbed aboard, taking the first seat that I could find at the front. A quick survey around the bus and I would realize I wasn't alone, with a number of people who were wrapped in warm blankets and clothing, sleeping peacefully, or whom huddled together closely as if it was the only thing that kept them from tears. The doors closed and the bus started up again, the sound of the windshield wipers and the quiet rumble of the engine being the only sounds on the bus.

Curiosity soon burned at my mind in ways it hadn't in a very long time. Was everyone on this bus dead? Had they all died in different ways? Where were we all going–? A million different questions bubbled forth from somewhere within me and I couldn't help but break the uncanny silence that permeated the air.

“...May I ask… Where exactly is this?” I started, nervously fiddling about with my hands. As soon as I spoke the words aloud, I found that the same intuition from before had already answered the question in some dull and loose sense. Not as a direct answer, but as something abstract, like knowing the symbolism behind a full moon versus a new moon. I knew exactly what it was, but I couldn't quite get the words to flow through my mind in a way that made sense. The driver glanced back at me halfway, seeming to ponder my question as he tilted his head to one side and then the other.

“Well, well, as you know - and you do already know - you're quite dead aren't you? This place is what you might call “Purgatory”, or as I sometimes call it, “The space in-between”. You'll know when your stop is.” The driver said somewhat cryptically, his attention fully focused on the road once more. Not a single person on the bus stirred or gave any indication of caring about the disruption to the silence. The driver was correct - I already knew that I was dead, yes; although the confirmation only set it firmly in stone for me. A sigh passed by my lips, a vaguely somber feeling edging into my stomach once more.

“... My apologies for interrupting your work…” I began, feeling that familiar overly polite demeanor of mine kicking into gear. Just, without the undertones of self loathing and resentment to color it with insincerity. “I would guess… Everyone here is also dead then, yes? And you… you must be…?”

I trailed off, leaving the implication open. As for the driver, I already knew intuitively who he was, as well, but I would have to say without a doubt that for such a figure, he wasn't a very imposing type. He had a soft, round looking face and gentle brown eyes. Atop his head, he had a black colored hat of some sort on - it reminded me just a little bit of the hats a train conductor would wear. Beneath it, fluffy and soft looking brownish hair peeked out and curled at the nape of his neck. He wore formal clothing, but his overall demeanor was relaxed and soothing somehow.

There was silence for just a little bit, and then a soft laugh came from the driver. “You're not mistaken.” He said in a playful manner that held a certain undertone of empathy. Or perhaps it was sadness? I couldn't tell you precisely, in truth, but it wasn't difficult to tell that while he took pride in his job, he felt genuinely for the souls aboard his bus. He understood their pain and suffering in ways that I could scarcely begin to imagine.

“I am death in most concepts of the word. Not quite the one who strikes a soul from their body to reap it - there is no such entity as that, you see? No such entity quite assigned to the natural breakdown of organic matter into decay, and to rot and then once more to the Earth from whence all was borne. Except for mushrooms, maybe. That's another tale, however!” He laughed in a boisterous way, as if finding his own musings to be quite funny. I cocked my head to the side, not sure what to make of it in the slightest. Although the more I quietly thought about what he'd said, I could find a certain humor in it. It was funny.

People were terrified of death, terrified of the unknown and the inevitable aspects of death, of the decay and the rot and the eventual return to Earth, but for what? Was it so terrifying to not know what becomes of us? Perhaps it was my own morbid sense of humor that had me lost on it, but death was a curious thing to me at most points during my life. In the blink of an eye we're here, and then gone again. From the Earth and then consumed as a nutrient for it once more, feeding the decay and the rot which gives way to a new extant form of life. I couldn't say I minded the idea of becoming a mushroom. The thought was funny to me in its own way.

As did the thought that we all struggle and fight tooth and nail to live and thrive and be ahead of the game, when we're all going to be buried the same and devoured by worms nonetheless. An unbreakable cycle by which our flesh would erode and leave behind a husk of bone and marrow. Rich, old, young, poor, it didn't matter our sex or race or anything besides being of mortal form, we would all go to the grave the same. We would all take the same bus to wherever our destination was next.

And as for myself, I had made a mistake of putting myself into an early grave. All because I didn't see value in the places where I was worth more than all the gold and diamonds in the world. Of course, I didn't quite understand all of that immediately - but it was something that I slowly began to grasp while I sat on the bus, hands gently clasped together as I glanced outside and into the rain. Without the weight in my stomach and all of the emotions I'd forced myself to choke down like those pills that sat dissolving in my stomach, I could think clearly. I could think concisely about how funny life was. Little epiphanies that seemed to come one after another after another.

Then, finally, “... Do you know how everyone on this bus died?” I asked, a touch of shame entering my voice. I felt at once like a child who was about to be scolded for stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, but considerably worse so.

Death sent a quick glance my way and then nodded with an apologetic kind of smile. It was as if he didn't want me to feel, for even just one moment, like he despised me or felt badly about the choice I'd made that night. Where I think many others would look my way and judge my every movement, my every question I'd asked thus far, and even my feelings themselves, I never felt such from Death himself. Death hadn't taken any jabs at me, hadn't demeaned me for being too weak to live. Death looked upon me with sympathy as he knew, he knew the feelings weighing upon my heart and how difficult they were.

And I, as I knew so inherently from the intuitive senses I seemed to more properly embody in this state, was not alone. I had always felt so very, horribly, awfully alone in all of my sufferings at that time, but at this moment I was filled with the sense and knowing that I had never been truly alone. I had merely been unable to see that everyone around me, for as brightly as they smiled and hid their pain, were also suffering and feeling the depths of loneliness. Many like me, also could not see a way out of it alone, or felt that their worth was nil compared to those who carried themselves like proud kings and queens amongst commoners.

Death spoke up in a soft tone, one filled with a certain kindness that was unlike that of any normal person I'd ever known, surely. “Upon this bus are the elderly and the tired. The martyrs and the shunned. Those who have had their lives stolen, their bodies used in terrible ways. There are peacemakers and peace takers, rich and poor, every manner of which results quite the same. Whether you were Hitler himself or one who was victim of his genocide, the end will not differ. That which is flesh and bone returns all the same.”

That was quite a thought, and one which caused a certain bitter resentment to bubble up within me for reasons I understood quite plainly. Why should those who made others suffer be allowed to simply be at rest, at peace, when they caused such suffering upon another? Why should they be allowed any kindness at all? Why should anyone so utterly debased and foul be allowed redemption of any form? I felt this rage bubble within me for several silent moments, and then just as quickly snuff itself out into oblivion.

My personal resentment aside, I seemed to inherently pick up on the subtle reality of that, too. The feelings we all felt while we were alive, the actions we took individually and even against one another, while inexcusable in every context, were prone to likewise decay. In the endless expansion of life and death and the universe itself, it mattered on a human level as to prevent such atrocities from taking place again. It mattered on a level of remembering the lives lost to tragic events, as each life lived was an irreplaceable one that could never again be seen to the same degree. However, on a level of decay and entropy amidst an ever swirling expanse of universe, it was as insubstantial as a child shoving the end of a hose into a nest of ants and drowning them all. Did ants mourn their fallen sisters as we mourn those lost to war and famine and ultimately decay?

“... Do you suppose they regret what they've done in the end?” I asked, knowing at least the answer that was true to myself. For myself. Seeing the world with eyes wide open and clearer than ever before, I knew what I had done and that it ultimately wasn't only me who would suffer. It hadn't mattered in the moment when I was pushed over the edge, who I hurt or how badly. The only thing that mattered was me, in that moment, who couldn't stand to go forward another single day with the knot of dread in my stomach and knowing there was no feasible end in sight.

Death smiled and pulled the bus to the side of the road, the back doors opening. I was suddenly hit with the sense that it was time to go - a strange thing, since I had only been on the bus for what felt like a very short time. Maybe a half an hour at most. As I rose to leave, Death called out one final time. “Maybe you can tell me the answer to that one. I've wondered for a long time, myself.”

I laughed quietly to myself and said, “Regret or not, what's done is done. That's finality,” and left the bus, finding that outside was nothing but a starkly bright light that I felt should have burned my eyes. I went forward into it, ready to embrace what came next.

…

And well, I woke up in the hospital hooked up to God knows how many things, but I was… Alive. Alive… and not exactly well, but that was fine for the moment. I was alive.

The rest is for another story all together.

[lightworkscompendium]

The Bible and Homosexuality

     One need not go to church in order to know the ever-famous line from Leviticus 18:22,

     “Man shall not lay with man, for it is an abomination.” 

      This line would indicate that gay sex, in particular, is an unforgivable sin in the eyes of God. However, this translation of the bible did not come about until 1946, in the Revised Standard Edition. The old translation, meanwhile, tells a very different story. 

     “Man shall not lay with young boys as he does a woman, for it is an abomination.” 

      Featured in the more direct translation is the word ‘arsenokoitai’, which is an originally Greek word that means ‘boy molester’. This paints an entirely different picture than what is present in the Revised edition, indicating instead that men who molest children will not inherit the Kingdom of Heaven. One can really thanks the Heavens for that!

     This translation can be found in a collective of bibles outside of the U.S in most European countries. As the ‘new’ translation came into being after 1946, European countries decided to adopt the new phrasing into their own variations of the bible - some of which had actually been drafted and paid for by the U.S. to be put into print. 

     One might even say, by this source of logic and the switching up of words, that those tampering with the Holy Bible are in fact putting words in the mouth of God. Thusly, those individuals are spreading falsehoods through the church, one of the very sins that is mentioned in Revelations as corrupt and to be punished severely.

Source

Further reading on other passages can be done here. And here

[lightworkscompendium]

Fear as the Oppressor

     Fear is one of the largest motivators for oppression. 

     Beyond hatred, beyond ignorance, beyond learned racism and the struggle for power, is yet the most compelling emotion known to humankind in and of itself. Fear carries with it the power to destroy entire societies, and further the power to dominate that which causes such emotion. Hatred is not the opposite of love, as one might associate; rather it’s, fear of what isn’t understood.

     The Black Lives Matter movement is one step towards a future where this fear can no longer preside over the lives of others. As each individual partaking in these peaceful protests contributes in whatever way they are able, they are working towards a sustainable future. A future where we, as individuals, may come together and not set aside differences, but work in tangent with these differences. 

     This is not a battle that is simply one-and-done. Oppression and fear runs deeply in not only American society, but in humankind as a whole. As we stand now for what is right, we will be putting our lives on the lines to right the wrongs of this world. Yet, choosing not to stand at all would mean accepting the current state of affairs and holding your peace with it. The possibilities that lay before us may not even be something one can imagine at this time, generation after generation having been ingrained a slave-like mentality.

     Question what is possible and what is not possible. Many of the things that each and every individual has been told is unrealistic or impossible is not. 

      Keep fighting. Keep strong. And believe in what this world could be when we all join hands to shape it from the ground up. 

[lightworkscompendium]

The Buzz About Showering and Inspiration

Another Shower Idea?

     We've all been there before. You're getting home from a long day at work and you've decided, in an effort to get the day's grime off of you, you're going to take a shower. The hot water hits your back and you're starting to get nice and relaxed after your long day. Then, suddenly, as if coming out of thin air itself – a rogue but utterly brilliant idea strikes! You rush your shower along with this incredibly brilliant idea in mind and then rush out of the bathroom barely half clothed. Half the time, however, as you're scrambling to find your pen to jot down this idea of yours, it slips right from your mind like it'd never existed in the first place.

     So, why is it that some of the best ideas seem to come about at what seems like the most inopportune times for it to? Why is it that the shower stimulates our brains in such a way that we get some of our most creative ideas there?

     Scientific studies have come to a conclusion as to why this happens – and it's not a myth! We truly do get some of our best ideas when we're relaxing in the shower after a long day at the office. A lot of this has to do with the way that we relax and loosen up when we're in the shower. The moments when you let your mind idly wander with no direction are actually the moments when your mind is the most likely to find solutions to problems, or come up with an amazing book idea. Isn't it funny how it works like that?

     Well, there's a good reason for why it works like that! When we're relaxing and letting our minds idly wander, we're freeing up our unconscious mind's resources. This allows it to go to work doing what it does best – generating all sorts of off the wall ideas you might not consciously consider. Whether we're daydreaming or not, our minds are always processing any number of things at any given moment in time. The shower, speaking generally, helps relax us enough to let those processes start flowing creatively.

The Brain Facts

     So, we know the relaxing hot waters can lull us into a relaxed state where we idly daydream and end up with some pretty crazy and amazing ideas. But there's more aspects to this curious question than just that, as scientific research has shown. One leading neuroscientist researching creativity in individuals, Alice Flaherty, has another contributing answer.

     Dopamine. Dopamine is one of your brain's chemical neurotransmitters and is known for its contributions to feeling pleasure and satisfaction. When you finally get home at the end of the day and race into the shower, the relaxing sensation of a nice warm shower releases dopamine in your brain. This chemical helps to further relax you with a sense of contentment and ease, making it a lot easier for your mind to simply wander off as you idly scrub the day away. This is called the incubation period, which is the period of time your mind has to settle after you've spent a great deal of effort pondering a problem with no results.

     According to these studies, it's essential to have a completely clear mind in order for creativity to flow unhindered. Showering just happens to meet all of the requirements to help you relax and make you feel good, letting all those creative juices flow! 

Sources:

Science Explains Why Our Best Ideas Come in the Shower

The Science of Creativity

Why Do Our Best Ideas Come in the Shower?

Dr. Alice Weaver Flaherty, Neuroscientist

What is Dopamine?

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This article was edited by @mysteriousmukuro, 10-8-19

[lightworkscompendium]

The Truth on Japanese Fighting Fish and Their Care

You say Alpha, I say Betta!

    There's a general myth among people that bettas are incredibly easy to take care of and require very little space in order to thrive. Some even go so far as to say that bettas will thrive in a vase coupled with flowers, as the flowers will suck up the fish's dirty water and the fish will nibble on the flowers' stems. These general myths are, in spite of their popularity, largely inaccurate. 

In many of these cases, an improperly sized aquarium and improper care will result in the premature death of the betta. As with all new pets, it's best to do extensive research before adopting a new life into your household, as to ensure you know precisely what is going to be needed for it. This article will go over incorrect myths associated with bettas, their enclosures, and how to properly take care of these gorgeous fighting fish.

I Reject Your Reality and Substitute My Own

     Let's pretend for a moment that we're the Mythbusters as we go through this list of common misconceptions about bettas and their care.

    1. Bettas thrive in small bowls and don't need a filter, heater, or plants.

    Ideally, a betta should be placed in a tank that is at least FIVE gallons or more! It's certainly a lot more than what a simple bowl purchased at the pet store would be able to hold. In addition to that, it's essential that the betta also has filtration in the tank as well as a heater. Bettas are a tropical fish, meaning that the temperature of their tank must be maintained at around 76~81 degrees Fahrenheit.   

    Filters, meanwhile, are necessary for assisting with the breakdown of ammonia and nitrite, which can become toxic to fish in general when the concentrations in the tank become too high. They likewise aid in the creation of beneficial bacteria in the tank as the water is circulated continuously. These beneficial bacterium will, as the 'beneficial' part of it suggests, be helpful to your betta and keep them healthier longer. You can think of it in a similar way to when we ingest yogurt, which is filled with beneficial probiotics.

   It's never a bad idea to include some live plants in the tank on top of these other necessities, as bettas often feel most comfortable when they're able to hide themselves amongst foliage. A happy betta is one that will also live longer! There are many varieties of live plants that would be suitable for a betta that can be bought at almost any pet store. The care of aquatic plants, in and of itself, tends to be fairly minimal and they often thrive quite well so long as they're able to get a bit of sunlight.

    2. Bettas do not need to be fed if plants are present in the water.

    In all truth, bettas are fully carnivorous fish, meaning that they do not eat plants as part of their diet. In the wild, bettas most often eat insects that have landed in the water where they reside. Most commonly in our beloved household variety, a pellet form of food or flake will be the most beneficial. It's not a bad thing to, on occasion, give them brine shrimp or bloodworms as a 'treat'. Even fish can enjoy treats from time to time!

    Be wary of over-feeding, however. Over-feeding is a large cause in the death of bettas, as opposed to under-feeding. When feeding pellet foods, it's best to give only two to six pellets per day! With bloodworms and brine shrimp on the other hand, only one or two would be a good amount and this should be done only once a week. A betta's stomach is only about the size of one of its eyes, meaning they can only fit so much in there before it becomes unhealthy for them. If a bulge is beginning to form along the betta's sides, it's time to cut back on the food a bit. Obesity in bettas can have as many health complications as it can for any other living creature.

    3. Bettas thrive in unclean, shallow-water conditions, as their natural environment is dirty mud puddles.

    That's not actually the case at all, in spite of popular misconceptions. The waters that bettas live in aren't actually muddy, but instead are stained a 'muddy' color by plant debris. Further, while it's true that the waters they reside in are indeed shallow, they're also very expansive. Bettas do not live in 'puddles' typically, but in rice paddies and streams that provide a great deal of room for them to live and explore. The ‘dirty puddle’ concept also comes from the knowledge that, during the dry summer months where there’s less water around, bettas will live in shallow puddles as a temporary home until the rains bring back their usual territory. Emphasis on the temporary part!

    With this in mind, it is necessary for you to regularly change the water in your betta's tank. Bettas are highly sensitive to the quality of water they reside in. Should the pH and hardness go off balance, one can anticipate that the fish's fins will begin to deteriorate in response. Bettas’ fins are not particularly well circulated, which makes them prone to bacterial infections. This is all the more likely to happen when left in unclean conditions.

    4. Bettas are inactive fish.

    Contrarily, bettas are actually highly active and highly intelligent fish. In the right conditions, bettas will naturally search about their tank with great curiosity and act very lively. Bettas that are laying down constantly or are inactive are likely too cold, or sick.

A How-To For Caring For Your Betta

    So we've gone over some of the myths that, due to their wide-spread reach amongst people and pet stores, have inadvertently caused more than a few bettas to die earlier than they should've. Was some of it surprising to you? Now that we've cleared up a few of those misconceptions, we can go straight ahead into the best ways to care for your betta.

Picking a Tank and Filter.

     If you're using a bowl or tank under 2.5 gallons currently, now's a good time to bid it adieu! An ideal tank should be between 5 ~ 10 gallons, but a 2.5 gallon tank can be reasoned with to a degree. Generally speaking, the larger the tank, the better it will be for the fish, as it will help negate the harmful effects of ammonia buildup on top of giving the betta plenty of space to explore. The tank you pick should ideally have a filter that isn't too strong, but will still adequately circulate the water throughout the expanse of the tank.

   2. Picking a Heater

    Picking out the perfect heater is less of a trial, as most pet stores will carry heaters that are labeled for a specific gallon range. It can be helpful to use a heater that is pre-set to turn off and on at certain temperatures, as this will ensure that your tank is regularly in the range that is needed for your betta to thrive.

  3. Decorations and Plants

    Bettas love to hide in foliage and anywhere else they can manage to explore! When such an environment is provided for them, they will generally be much happier in their new home, which will likewise help keep them healthier longer. Just like with people!

    Some decorations that are best for bettas include the following:

• Moss balls – Also known as Marimos.

• Floating logs.

• Live aquarium plants.

• A sinking ceramic log.

• A Betta Hammock.

• Gravel for the bottom of the tank.

    It should be noted that when seeking out decorations for your betta, you want to ensure you do not pick out anything that has potentially sharp edges. Decorations containing sharp edges are liable to rip the betta's fins, which leaves them exposed to potential bacterial infections.

    In addition, for the enrichment of your betta's life, it can even be beneficial to sometimes put a ping-pong ball in to float at the surface of the water. The betta will chase after it and entertain itself with the ball, giving it the stimulation that it needs. Bettas are highly intelligent fish and need stimulation from their environment. Without stimulation or things to explore in their tanks, bettas are actually quite prone to becoming depressed – very similar to humans!

Cycling and Introduction to the Tank

    Now that you have an idea of what the tank should look like and what it needs in order to keep your betta happy, you're ready to get everything set up for the introduction of your betta into the new tank.

    Before putting in any decorations, it's important to rinse each piece off – including the gravel – before placing it into the tank for use. This is to help wash off any dust or other debris that might contaminate the tank with unhealthy pollutants. Thereafter, you can put in your gravel and arrange your decorations in whatever fashion seems the most aesthetically appealing to you. Try not to over-crowd the tank with decorations, as the betta still needs space to swim around.

    When adding water to the tank thereafter, it's important to note what kind of water you're using. Tap water contains chemicals, such as chlorine, which will be toxic to your betta even in low quantities. Distilled water, meanwhile, lacks vital minerals that the betta needs in order to survive. The best option to go with is bottled water; although, if this option is unavailable, tap water can be used so long as it's conditioned. Many pet stores sell water conditioner, which will sufficiently remove chlorine and other harmful chemicals from the water.

    Once you've added the water and, if needed, conditioned it, you can begin the process of cycling.

    Cycling is a necessary process with all new aquariums, as they help to establish beneficial bacteria colonies. Without these beneficial bacteria colonies being well established in the tank, it's not unlikely that any fish you buy will end up passing away prematurely from ammonia toxicity. So, before you switch tanks or go out and buy your new betta, it's necessary to do a little prep work beforehand!

    One of the most common cycling methods is to introduce a small bit of fish food to the tank, allowing it to settle at the bottom. Uneaten fish food will cause ammonia levels to spike in the tank, which prompts the growth of beneficial bacteria and starts the cycle off. After a few days, the ammonia levels will begin to decrease as the bacteria eats away at it.

    This, however, creates a byproduct from the bacteria called nitrite, which is also highly toxic to aquatic life. Given a few more days, a secondary colony of beneficial bacteria will begin to grow and break down the nitrites into nitrates, a chemical byproduct that is far less toxic. This process can take several days' time and it's recommended to check the chemical levels in the water before introducing any fish. This is to ensure that the aquarium has finished cycling properly. Most pet stores carry test strips, but for more accurate results it can be good to buy a liquid tester.

    In this method of creating your bacteria colonies, you will want to do a large tank change of about 90% of the water, as rotting food at the bottom of the tank can also create bacteria that is less beneficial in nature. A full water change will help remove this bad bacteria while still retaining the good bacteria colonies previously established.

    Alternative to this method, “seeding” your aquarium is another option for establishing beneficial bacteria colonies. Seeding is typically when you borrow a used filter from another tank and place it into the new tank that doesn't yet have any beneficial bacteria growing in it. As the beneficial bacteria is already present in the filter from the 'donor' tank, it will be able to cycle throughout the tank much faster. In this method, you can introduce your betta immediately to the tank.

    One other commonly recommended method would be to buy aquarium bacteria from the pet store. Bottled bacteria can be stored for about a year and can be used to kick-start your aquarium – but it doesn't necessarily make it safe for you to immediately introduce your betta into the tank. Let it cycle for a day or so and test the water before introducing your fish into the water.

Introducing Your Betta to its’ New Home

    The time has finally come! You can finally introduce your betta to its’ new home, but there's a little bit more to it than just opening up the container it comes in and dumping it on in. In fact, doing that can actually cause a very real problem called shock, which can happen due to sudden temperature changes and differences in water quality. This can make your betta very ill and can be potentially fatal.

    When introducing your betta to its’ tank, it's far better to do it slowly and gradually, rather than all at once. While your betta is still in its bag or container, you'll want to float it at the surface of the tank, allowing it to stay there for 15 ~ 20 minutes; longer if the temperature difference between the water is extreme. This is to assist in acclimating the betta to the temperature of the water gradually, as the water surrounding the bag or cup will slowly warm the water inside.

    Once acclimated to the temperature of the tank, it's then time to begin gradually introducing water into the bag or cup to begin acclimating to the tank's pH level. In intervals of about five minutes, add a small amount of the aquarium water to the betta's water. Repeat this process until the bag or cup is full, wait another five minutes, and then allow your betta to swim free! At this point, you've successfully set up and acclimated your betta into its’ new, roomy and comfortable habitat!

Sources:

Why Betta Bowls are Bad

Bettas Need More Than Bowls

How to Take Care of Your Betta

How Often Do You Need to Feed a Betta Fish?

Tiny Mud Puddles and Other Lies

Aquarium Nitrogen Cycle and Cycling a Fish Tank

Top Ten Betta Toys

Do Betta Fish Get Depressed?

Betta Fish Acclimation

How Bettas Handle Temperature Flunctuation

New Arrival Acclimation Guide

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This article was reviewed and edited by @mysteriousmukuro, 10-7-19

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An Ode to Dry Hands Everywhere

Hangnails Are Not Good Company to Hang Out With

    We've all had them. Those annoying little bits of dead skin that poke out between your fingernails, so easy to get snagged on any number of things. Depending on the kind of job you work and what sort of activities you do throughout your day, you may even be more prone to these small annoyances than others. Have you ever wondered what it is exactly that causes these little bits of skin to separate and become the somewhat painful 'Hangnail'? Listed in this article will be the general causes of hangnails, how to properly treat them, and why some individuals are more likely to get them than others.

What Causes Them?

    Hangnails are caused by a number of different things, but are especially prominent during the winter months when the weather is at it's driest. This is due to the fact that hangnails are most often caused by dry skin, which causes the cuticle to separate and split off into that little bit of skin we all love to hate. Hangnails are also prominently caused by over-washing your hands for much the same reason – an unfortunate reality for anyone who works in the food industry and has to wash their hands dozens of times a day. The act of over-washing your hands will dry them out significantly over time, leaving them open to the possibility of skin cracking and bleeding – and of course hangnails.

     For those of us who are oh-so-prone to biting our nails, this is yet another major causation of the formation of hangnails. Not only will your saliva dry out the skin surrounding your nail, but chewing on your nails will also cause damage to the nail bed itself – something that will also result in forming this problem. Trauma to the nails and cuticles themselves, whether it's by paper cut or self-inflicted picking at your fingers, can be a large contributing factor in and of itself. Next time you feel inclined to pick at or chew at your nails, just remember that you might be giving yourself an even bigger annoyance later on to deal with!

How To Deal With Them?

    Before you go ahead and try ripping the hangnail off because it's uncomfortably rubbed up against something for the 12th time today, let's offer some alternatives to that potentially painful, bloody option. The best thing to do as a method of treatment is to use a clean pair of nail clippers and clip it clean off, getting as close to the base of the hangnail as you can. Doing so will prevent it from catching on things while it's in the process of healing. It's not recommended to simply rip the strip of skin off, as most often it will take extra, living skin with it and it can result in bleeding. This, in itself, can result in inflammation and potentially infection from any bacteria surrounding the cuticle.

    After clipping away the excess skin, it's never a bad idea wash the area and to put on an antibiotic ointment, such as Neosporin. This will help to ensure that the nail does not become infected, which can save you a lot of pain and suffering. In the case that it does become infected, the area of injury will most often appear red and puffy, discharging pus. Minor infections can often be treated at home by cleaning the injury thoroughly and applying an antiseptic ointment. Continuing infections, however, should be brought to a doctor's attention as soon as possible, as antibiotics may be needed to heal the infection.

Prevention as the Best Cure

    Now that we've learned what causes these pesky little bits of skin and how to best treat them, it should be noted that prevention is often times the best cure to a problem. So, how do we prevent hangnails from forming in the first place?

    One of the easiest methods to do so lingers in almost everyone's household – though it's possibly buried in the back of a cabinet somewhere or another. Using lotion or a hydrating crème on your nail beds is one of the best steps towards prevention. Since dry skin is the number one reason for the occurrence of hangnails, keeping your skin moisturized – especially during those dry winter months – will help stave off a majority of the problem in and of itself. So if you haven't made a habit of carrying lotion with you and you suffer from this frequently, now might be a good time to start packing a small tube in your bag!

    Less easy for some of us would be the option of ceasing to chew or bite at your nails. Generally speaking, chewing on your nails isn't good for either your teeth or your nails, so training yourself against doing it could be beneficial in more ways than one. This can also help to prevent spreading bacteria from your hands to your mouth, which can go a long way if you're prone to getting colds or the flu! For an alternative to chewing your nails, in the case that your chewing is due to anxiety or 'stimming', many resources are available to provide objects that are safe and durable to chew on instead.

    One last option for prevention is to get a manicure, should the option be available to you. Manicurists are trained professionals in taking care of your nails, from proper cutting technique to hydrating the nail bed with cuticle oil. You can generally trust that they'll be able to help you out, and you can get a splendid new look for your nails while you're at it!

Sources: 

Hangnails: Causes, Treatments, Risks, & When to See a Doctor

How Hangnails Work

What Causes Hangnails, Exactly?

Stimtastic Chewable Jewelry

Infected Wounds, Causes, Symptoms and Treatment

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