Emotions

167. I AM AN ORANGE

I am an orange.

This obvious metaphor comes directly from Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, and he spoke of it many times. While it crosses my mind frequently, it’s somewhat annoying because it tests me more than I’d like, and usually on a daily basis. The original question goes, “What comes out of an orange when it’s squeezed?” The answer is, of course, orange juice. Why? Because that’s what’s inside an orange to begin with. The answer is simple and undeniable. The comparison this is leading to is “What comes out of YOU when you get squeezed?”  Me? Well… when the pressure is turned up, and depending on the situation, for the most part I do my best to remain cool and rational, but I do react compulsively far more than I’m comfortable with, which means, yes, I do still lose my temper, get frustrated, and raise my voice.

I have a healthy jealousy of people who can keep their emotional pendulum from swinging too much. I work with a few and their approach to life is enviable, at least to me. Mine often moves around as if it were a four-year old hopped up on birthday cake in a bouncy house. Most of the time my attitude is a mixture of serious and goofy, if that makes any sense. I stay on point with almost all of my responsibilities, but as I do I welcome associated humor and positive angles with a practiced mindset, which often leads me to a harmless humorous remark, but occasionally I receive a heaping dose of foot in mouth.

I recall a time, about fifteen years ago where I was in the job and I noticed another trade grab what I thought was our sixty foot roll of 2” soft copper, a very expensive item. I was totally convinced that they had stolen it, and I lost my mind. I was in full emotional meltdown and it’s a wonder the crew didn’t gang up and beat me to dust. Have you ever recognized those inevitable unwanted and distasteful behaviors your parents informally programmed you with come out of you? I did that day, and my reflex was instant shame and remorse. As you could have guessed, I found OUR roll within a few minutes of my tirade and realized what they had was theirs all along. Looking to remedy the situation as soon as possible I left the job, bought a case of Gatorade along with two dozen donuts and headed back looking to make what amends I could. They were grateful and appreciative of my gesture (it was a 100+ degree day and we were outside) and in the end all was forgiven, but the memory now has a permanent resonation to it.

A decade and a half later I’ve had a few slips, but nothing close to what happened that day. Since then I’ve made consciously focused efforts to react calmly, and not only that, respond slower to situations that would have had me tackled at the speed of sound into a straitjacket in my youth. These days I take the time to analyze the situation and approach whatever’s going on with logic and information rather than judgement and emotion. One might think in doing so I’m repressing feelings that should be expressed, and I AM an advocate of letting those ‘spirits’ out, both positive and negative, as quickly as possible, but there’s a secret many may not know about. When I feel a dark reaction building and I take what amounts to nothing more than a fleeting moment to face it and acknowledge it, I’m given the power to transform it, not ignore or bury it.

As I confessed straight away in the first paragraph, my approach is not perfect, and all too often I fantasize about going off on a tangent of colorful insults, comebacks, defenses, and threats when I think my bubble of serenity and conviction is being invaded. Self-analysis in these circumstances is not equal to self-doubt, it’s an indication of an underlying need and longing to grow beyond instinct and past ego.

Those who speak and behave firmly and softly with focus and reason, whether it be as an action or reaction, command attention, respect, and action. Those who do the reverse invite an audience that will ignore, loathe, and resist them.

Please follow my blog. Comment and share as you wish.

With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

156. FOR ART’S SAKE

I am, and always will be, a fan of art, both as an observer and in practice. I’m an artist myself, one who chooses to express my proclivity through many mediums. These days writing is my main outlet, but I do have a painting and drawing studio in my home, one filled with all kinds of resourceful tools; too many, in fact. My collection is so extensive I had to buy a large upright rolling toolbox in place of a traditional taboret. I own a few easels as well as an ancient drafting table along with its traditional accoutrements. In paintbrushes alone I hoard over two hundred, and I have stacks of various art pads and canvases. I must admit, however, that my amateur skills in this area have waned as I have grown older, and admittedly, lazier. Most of the time they collect dust, but at least they are there when the mood strikes.

Often, when I mention a personal inclination and enthusiasm towards an artistic frame of mind, many of my colleagues will, without hesitation, deny that they have the same tendencies. While I’m hesitant to call anyone a liar, they are, in fact, totally incorrect. The stereotypical and shallow-minded definition of art is not limited to the contents of museums, libraries, and concert halls, it literally saturates our surroundings, and this includes all things both man-made and natural.

The inability or unwillingness to recognize this in everything is a subconscious attitude of apathy towards the world. This choice robs us of a connection from spirit (or imagination) to manifestation, and without this frame of mind, all the work we do becomes nothing more than programming and drudgery. It’s important to point out that almost all of us were, as children, deeply involved in all kinds of artistic activities. Crayons and glue, clay, colored paper and paper airplanes, coloring books and paint were associated with leisure and fun. So was singing, pretending, and looking for dragons in the clouds. This is because we were still connecting to the world from the inside out rather than the outside in. We wanted to reach out to everything at one point and make it blossom, but for many the reverse eventually happens and sadly, we decide our efforts are a waste of time. Instead of creating the rain that makes things grow, we choose to believe it’s better or easier to wait for the right conditions to come to us. We want reward without action, not realizing the reward IS the action. Everyone has an inner garden, and while some have ignored or neglected theirs, they can always be revived to a point of flourishing if properly attended to. The seeds of creativeness may lie dormant, but they are never nonexistent.

Passionate expression isn’t just a personal pursuit, it is an enviable one, meaning the person who’s best at envisioning and subsequently producing something, can often be an inspiration to others. This action radiates magnetism and demands an audience. Not only that, the process is transferable. It can be consciously shifted into other, unexplored, or unconsidered areas. For example, if a person is an expert at restoring cars, there’s no reason this obsessive energy can’t be refocused into becoming a skillful cook. 

They say practice makes perfect. This clichéd saying is its own dichotomy. If practice makes perfect, then the time will come when practice is no longer necessary, and since perfection is both unattainable and highly subjective, then practice is a waste of time to begin with. Personally, I don’t like the word practice. It’s been my experience that the Pavlovian response to the (covert) definition can stir up connections to previously perceived failures, and in turn it can lead to disenchantment and negative outcomes. I feel the word persistence is much more productive and positive. The vernacular may be subtle, but the consequences are obvious. The road of persistence is about the journey, and the only goal is to make the journey itself more and more pleasant.

And so we come to the idea of art in practical applications, not just as an occasional emotional outlet, but as an extension of everything we do. If we allow our inner spirit to influence outer actions, we reinforce purpose. If we apply an artistic frame of mind to most duties they’ll cease to be strictly motivated by gain and eventually become driven by how we deliver them. The side benifit is people will ALWAYS be willing to pay more for that which is done with an attention to detail and a disposistion for beauty. Gain (or profit) then becomes automatic. If we find a way to anchor enjoyment to our responsibilities, then does it not become a habit we want to repeat and enhance? With practice all movement becomes dance, all words become poetry, all we touch becomes sculpture, all we hear becomes music, and all we see becomes one vast painting.


Please follow my blog. Comment and share as you wish.

With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood



141. AN EMPATHIC PATH

 

If I were a box of crayons, in nineteen ninety-five mine would have had two choices, black and white; the black one, symbolic of all the darkness and disorder I embraced was almost used up, broken, blunt, with teeth marks and missing the paper, while the white one, a pristine example of abandoned light and happiness still lingered, brand new, an annoying reminder of what had been lost. My talent for expression (as a pseudo-adult) was limited to say the least. By the time I had reached the age of twenty-three, I’d completely embraced apathy. What was once a bright assortment of choices, at least from an emotional standpoint, seemed lost beyond reclamation. I was incorrectly convinced my variety of sixty-four shades I’d so generously made use of as a child existed only in my past. I had no idea I still owned them; they’d just been left in a dusty room, long forgotten. Scribbled on the door of that room, in the colorful handwriting of a child, was the word “Love”.  

When I finally took steps to rebuild my life from scratch and leave my self-destructive lifestyle behind, one of the biggest challenges facing me was a need to connect with and start expressing abandoned and rusty emotions. As my body and spirit slowly reconstructed, I picked them up one by one, practicing with each for a time, and methodically refilled my supply. Eventually my pictures returned to vibrant variety. Not only that, they were better than ever. I began taking joy in presenting myself as a work of art. There was, however, one variety I neglected to include, not because I ignored it, but for the simple matter I’d never owned it in the first place.

Empathy was a foreign concept. It took me a long time to embrace and decipher the energy of this valuable emotion. I was certainly good at sympathizing, but this action smacked of comparison. I could somewhat understand the pain and heartbreak another felt as long as I found similar instances in my own life. Since my interpretation of sympathy was to look for negative parallels in my own life, the best I could do was increase an undesirable outlook. Instead of understanding the problem (which is the first step to creating a solution) I would unintentionally add to the bonfire of the original crisis by doing nothing more than equating to it. I do not believe sympathy to be unkind, it definitely comes from a desire to extend love, but empathy is a much better and productive expression. First and foremost, empathy, which is the willingness to step into another’s shoes, another’s life, and attempt to feel what they do, is free from judgment. Remember, the total absence of judgment is the very definition of unconditional love. As soon as my opinion (ego) enters the process, I’ve put conditions on it, and I’ve lost my intent. While I believe this is a skill that can be practiced and refined, I feel there is a danger of stepping away from one’s own sense of self if done too much. Awareness is the key. If an aptitude for empathic alignment becomes subconscious, then my understanding is it could have catastrophic consequences.

While I think this choice of living is rare and rewarding, I believe there is an even more elusive emotion; one almost no one has mastered. My theory (and YES, it’s just a theory) is there are people out there who have honed their ability to align with the emotional states of others so much that they automatically start to project their OWN feelings, their own state of consciousness as it were. Their presence alone raises the “vibration” of whoever happens to be in the vicinity. I’m not suggesting the process changes people’s minds or controls their thoughts, but I do believe they carry an elixir of inspiration within their aura, something akin to removing all the surface ripples from a pond. Even if you’re agnostic it’s hard to not admit Christ was certainly one of these blessed souls. Others like Nelson Mandela, Gandhi, or Mother Theresa most likely fall into the same category. I call these individuals “reverse empaths”. If you’ll note, the four I’ve mentioned were as free from ego as one can possibly become, so obviously this is a massive part of the technique.

Have I been in the same room with such people? Maybe. I do know there have been times where my state of agitation was suddenly and inexplicably lowered to a level of peace and bliss. If I’m right, it’s no wonder individuals with such magnetic energies are sought out. The catch is they are also completely uninterested in fame or fortune, which makes finding them difficult… but that’s not going to stop me from trying.

Please follow my blog. Comment and share as you wish.

With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood    

137. MANAGING FEAR

I used to be terrified of heights; sweaty palms, vertigo, the works, and that’s just when I stood up. Seriously though, I really was afraid of heights. In fact, as a young boy, I had a whole list of anxieties. Spiders (note the still above from “The Incredible Shrinking Man”) and bees, getting into fights, riding the school bus, where to sit during lunch, what would be said about me during parent/teacher conferences, deep water, seeing my report card, and most of all, my mother. Fear was always there. It dominated me for the most part but thank God it occasionally retreated to the background. I had frequent (albeit brief) periods of joy, peace, and amusement, especially when I was alone, but every type of fear, from despair to terror, was the main emotional state I expressed and felt for most of my youth. As I grew older I found I’d gained leverage over how events progressed in my own life, and I slowly began to feel as if I were moving past my unwanted emotional alignments. In reality they morphed into a more covert way of manifesting themselves, which is where my addictive traits eventually began to overwhelm me.

I must have had some sort of sense of avoidance on a subconscious level because I refused engage in many activities as a teenager that appeared to be both extremely fun and entertaining, but leaned towards a possible self-destructive path. Gateway drugs were obvious temptations, but things like cigarettes and casual sex were also part of the equation. By the time I was sixteen I’d already known people who had passed a point of no return. They had eventually stepped over a line where their behavior was causing damage that could not be reversed. I wasn’t necessarily terrified of what I saw, but there was enough fear to keep me in a state of caution when it came to how I was going to proceed in my own life.

There were two traps I eventually allowed myself to be lured into. I had no real cautions about either alcohol or, surprisingly, sugar. I’d never been around (or more likely hadn’t noticed) either one of these indulgences all that much. I’d been in the company of those who were drunk and others who overate, BUT most people I knew who drank weren’t drunks, and most who ate candy weren’t fat. This casual observation effectively cancelled any apprehensions I might have had if I’d witnessed the more destructive nature that abusing both of these could lead to. The largest flaw in my personality has always been all-in on anything hedonistic. I KNEW this ahead of time, which is why I avoided so many other paths. If I were to sample the example, apprehension would be lost. Practicing moderation has been one of my biggest struggles. There was a darkness inside me waiting for fertilization, I could feel it. Stepping over the line would be catastrophic to not only myself, but probably a great many others as well. I genuinely was split, good over here, bad over here; kindness on one side, malice on the other. When I recognized this I panicked and started doing anything I could to alter my state of mind. I chose what I thought was an easy path, to do so from the outside in instead of from the inside out and quite effectively shot myself in the foot.

I was horrible at managing my feelings and even worse at interpreting them. My logic was to avoid what either felt bad or might have bad consequences and embrace what either felt good or could be rewarding. The problem with such thinking was I avoided the correct course of action if there were the possibility of pain or price involved and embraced flawed conduct if pleasure or gratification was perceived. Fear, in my mind, was something to be avoided at all costs.

I’ve never told myself a bigger lie.

Believe it or not fear is my ally. It is NOT the enemy. Why? Because when I allow myself to feel it, to acknowledge its existence, I become aware of what must be overcome. I cannot improve as a person without recognizing what’s holding me back. There are, of course, situations which must be heeded with total apprehension, but it takes practice to separate authentic threats from those that are illusionary. The easiest way for me to recognize whether or not irrational behavior is in play is to determine the nature of support behind my reaction. Fear that owes its existence to blame is false, fear that arises as a result of a need to be responsible is authentic.

If, for example I’m blaming my lack of experience on pursuing a task, this is an unfounded fear, one based on an egotistical ideology, and it keeps me from expanding my résumé. On the other hand, if someone is holding a gun on me demanding my wallet, being frightened is perfectly acceptable. Most fear, in my experience, has extraordinarily little danger attached to outcome, in fact, it’s usually quite the opposite. Recognizing and walking through anything I’ve equated with apprehension has always been the best course of action, one that unveils potential and reaps success.

I suppose my best advice is to stop being afraid of feeling scared. Fear is a tool, a lever we can use to maneuver ourselves to a life of high achievement. There’s no doubt we are motivated when there’s something we want to gain or create, but if there’s something in the way we want to overcome as well, it becomes fun.

Trust me.

Please follow my blog and share as you wish.

Comments are welcome, I will answer in kind.

With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

 

 

128. LET’S BE WEIRD

I knew something was different about me very early on. The first time I realized this around the age of six. There I was, sitting in bed, joyously scribbling away in my Tom and Jerry coloring book and singing loudly to myself when it crossed my mind I was quite happy with no one else around. I truly remember this moment. I liked being in the company of others just fine, but I didn’t miss them when they weren’t there. I’m almost fifty-six now with no brothers or sisters, but back then there was no way of knowing if siblings were going to be in my life or not, so expectations of a bigger family remained open. Either way it didn’t matter, I craved neither solitude nor companionship, whatever the moment offered was quite comfortable. I also knew this attitude was different than most.

My teachers thought I was a bundle of nerves with a big mouth. I was; still am as an adult, but at least now I have increased self-awareness with my tendencies as well as an ability to redirect my energies, though sometimes it’s a little past my initial expressiveness. I was also rude, but never consciously so. My exasperated mother could not get me to say “excuse me” correctly when I walked in front of, or accidentally got in the way of others. Instead, I had it backwards for years and gleefully said “excuse you” instead, which really did come across as me being bratty. I never meant to be impolite, but I’m sure it seemed that way to those who were in my presence. Most of this stemmed from being selfish and overbearing, a side-effect of being an only child. There’s no doubt this type of behavior in today’s environment would insist on some sort of diagnosis that would require lots of drugs and possibly even therapy. Thank God I was born when I was.  If I were to unknowingly meet my younger self these days I’m sure I would roll my eyes and shake my head.

My personal habits in my youth were almost always directed towards fantasy or science fiction. Reality was fun, no doubt, but the possibility of imagination becoming reality held much more intrigue. I was a Star Trek, Wild Wild West, and Lost in Space kid. My library was soon filled with similar themes as I grew older and began to voraciously read. L. Frank Baum’s OZ books, A.A. Milne, The Chronicles of Narnia, and everything written by Edgar Rice Burroughs filled many hours of mental journeys. My artwork reflected my tendencies (and still does) when a brush, pen, or pencil was above a blank page. My room, my toys, were also in line as well. Everything one could think and create with, construction sets, art supplies, and, of course, books were my go-to playthings. Yes, I had cars, GI Joe, and sports stuff, but they were fall-back activities. I did play softball almost every day on the playground, so physical pastimes were abundant, but my mind was always elsewhere.

As I grew older I shifted away from my nature. What once was a powerful connection to my spirit faded a little every day as I became more and more hedonistic. This is where I deliberately began to withdraw from my fantasies. I went from being inspired by inward motives, to choosing to be influenced by outward ones. The walls effectively went up, and my wings of imagination came crashing down. Here is where I effectively became “normal.” All too soon I had a vast library of excuses for abandoning my hopes and dreams, in essence I joined the “tribe” and began goose-steeping to the tedious drone the majority of the population mindlessly embraces.

What IS normal one might ask? Well, in my observation the behaviors most people share define what’s totally acceptable, not only because they (usually) remain unchallenged, but also because they serve an agenda that justifies excuses for avoiding taking action. This is a cancerous lifestyle because most of our oblivious thought processes are great examples of misery loving company; we cyclically feed on each others bad habits. Please don’t think I’m past this, I’m not. All too often I catch myself joining in the mob mentality, my ego steps in, and I start playing the game with practiced ease.

Normal is therefore –

  • Accusing circumstance for how you act and feel.
  • Being late most of the time; or at the very least being highly rushed.
  • Trying to be different or stand apart from the outside in.
  • Worrying about reputation.
  • Complaining.
  • Thinking it’s inevitable certain “things” must happen the older we get, weight gain is, ahem… a big example.
  • Money equals happiness.
  • Wondering why everyone is so much luckier than you.
  • Hating Mondays, traffic, getting out of bed, supervisors, and your ex. Basically HATING too much.
  • A sense of lack.
  • Constantly comparing ourselves to others.
  • Wanting all the rewards in life without actually working for them.
  • Being overly offended, which, by the way, is nothing more than a covert way of  judging others.
  • Holding grudges.
  • Consistently defending oneself.
  • Pointing out flaws in everything: which is a cowardly act of misdirection designed to keep others from treating you the way you treat them.

Are ALL these observations normal? No need to ask me for reassurance, just look around for yourself and notice the type of body language most present themselves with, listen to the tone and delivery of how people typically speak as well as the attitudes that drive the agendas of average people. Do their motives fit many if not all the examples given above? Sadly, yes. Most people have fallen under the influence of thinking life can be fixed from the outside in, therefore what’s wrong is “out there”. We’re convinced we can change how we act and feel by manipulating the world around us rather than simply changing how we react. “Normal” is a comfort zone because the behavior is acceptable. The more we step out of the comfort zone, OR the more we embrace imagination, possibility, and personal power, the more we’re labeled as weird, because in doing so we don’t fit the tribe mentality.

Let’s look at a reversed list and perhaps this will enlighten as to just how rare, or of course abnormal it sounds.

Weird is therefore –

  • Owning how you act and feel.
  • Never being late, always relaxed.
  • Doing what it takes to be different from the inside out.
  • Not caring about what others think.
  • Bring grateful.
  • Knowing that you can defy the idea of how people age, and prove it through examples.
  • Happiness equals money. (LOVE this one)
  • Feeling blessed no matter how bad things get.
  • Loving Mondays, getting up the moment the alarm goes off to enjoy the day, empathizing with your boss, and wishing the best for your ex. Basically LOVING  everything.
  • A sense of abundance.
  • Comparing who and what you are, with where you were.
  • Willing to put forth any effort to achieve what you want.
  • Not letting hardly anything bother you, which will cultivate empathy.
  • Easily forgiving.
  • Embracing accountability.
  • Looking for the beauty in everything, which prompts others to do the same in kind.

To me it seems that imagination and compassion complement each other, just as ignorance and animosity are obviously close relatives. If nothing else the first list describes someone who is thoroughly boring and predictable, while the second list supports the type of person who is interesting and spontaneous. It’s ALSO important to point out the first list embraces a posture of inaction and blame, while the second one typifies a lifestyle of action and responsibility.

When I abandoned old beliefs and habits and embraced new ones, I reignited long lost passions I’d convinced myself were forever lost. This was actually a side-effect to my recovery, and I did not expect it. I never thought I’d find fortitude just because I wanted to become different, or of course… WEIRD.

Please follow my blog, comment and share as you wish.

With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

123. HOW DO YOU FEEL?

These days I wear my heart on my sleeve but it took a few decades to get there. Hiding my emotions from others or altering them to get a desired response is a useful and necessary skill, one I’m quite practiced at, however, I now realize attempting to ignore my passions or repress my reactions from myself is one of the most unhealthy choices I can pursue. For years my reflection stirred nothing but apathy. As a young man I never looked past my own eyes in the mirror, the thought never occurred. Curiosity for what I was past flesh and blood held almost no interest, and so I went about my days in a constant loop of mostly hedonistic pastimes.

I did read, draw, and write on rare occasions, but as time wore on my withdrawal from everything I used to love from a cerebral perspective eventually shrank into distant memory. My existence became extremely superficial. Television and movies ate up a large chunk of mindless time-wasting. Alcohol, of course, sped up the slowing down of my humanity. Projects and pursuits I used to get excited over lay in corners, boxes, and shelves, covered in dust, and fading from memory. All this served to dull my senses and separate me from anything resembling abstract thought. I had nothing to look forward to nor did I have any interest in creating anything anticipatory.

My vocabulary simplified to match my emotional range. Everything was fine or okay. I really had no ups and downs unless you count going from being relieved I didn’t die one day, to wanting to the next. Describing my life was detached from actually feeling it. I walked around for years totally numb, unable to connect inner interpretation to outer situations. My spirit was buried, unable to function. All I was was existence without substance, a shadow of reality.

Getting back to a place of authentic expression took a lot of work. When I first cut the rubber band binding my inner monologue, it burst forth with unexpected energy. This led to bipolar behavior for quite some time. My highs were extremely high, and my lows matched them. Like a ball bouncing from a great height, my passions finally found a somewhat normal rhythm and settled into manageable patterns. There are still deep end experiences these days, but they’re rare and pass quickly. I think the initial danger, when I finally embraced a dynamic lifestyle, was the temptation to align too much with becoming either intensely negative or overly optimistic. Either one of these roads could easily have been one step too far and I would have passed a point of no return. A bitter, hostile attitude towards life had a genuine appeal since it feeds the ego and mine was already well developed, but magnifying this aspect of my personality would have been suicidal. On the other hand, looking at life through “rose colored glasses” also presented alluring temptations. I could go about my business with no concerns about the future whatsoever; however, “blind faith” can be a dangerous journey, one that keeps my eyes looking skyward instead of forward. Luckily, I found a comfortable alternative to either of these two routes. Surprisingly, it’s NOT a middle road, but rather a different one.

I’ve often referred to myself as a “pro-optimist” which isn’t even a real word, but it really does describe how I move through my days. I’m usually highly optimistic as long as I’m actively investing in my ambitions. This path normally allows me to check and balance my emotional state. When I’m involved, blame is absent and responsibility is active. Yes, there’s no doubt most life’s “game” is comprised of random events, but when I have a hand in my own future it (usually) allows me to manipulate key elements, most importantly, my own attitude. As an example, I can be happy everything turned out well, OR I can be pleased I now know what not to do should similar situations arise. Granted, the aforementioned outcome is preferable, but either way my perceptions coupled with direct actions make for a recipe that cannot disappoint. If I look at things in this manner, there is no such thing as failure, and my emotional state has no choice but to align with satisfaction either way. Please note I cannot take this same approach if I am totally separated from an event, which is way I insist on participating in my own life.

Becoming desensitized to life went hand in hand with my subconscious choice to live in a strictly reactive fashion. Once I chose an active life, I had no alternative but to become emotionally adept. I wonder if the same is true for others who were just as lost as me? The title of this entry is not asking how the reader feels, it’s asking “how does one learn to feel?” I know how I did, and it’s one of the skills that keeps me enthusiastic about living.

Please follow my blog. Comment and share as you wish.

With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood