Cloudy Saturday Rambling (Old but currently relevant writing from 2017)

The last few months have shown me more than anything else how important it is to have this downtime with myself. I have the freedom to explore my feelings, about every damn thing. Maybe not every damn thing but certainly things that are impacting my life right now and how my instinctive reactions are triggered. The more aware we are of our triggers and our potentially destructive reactions to them the better we can manage our responses. To deliver them, or not, in healthy rather than toxic ways. As a person who has had a vast array of painful experiences from childhood throughout adulthood the greatest lesson I have learned to date is to always take responsibility for my actions and reactions. This means taking responsibility for my boundaries as well. I've long been a people pleaser within my personal relationships, personal boundaries have always been very difficult for me, to both set and maintain. I know this is rooted from my never being good enough as a child due primarily to the religious cult I was raised in. Can you imagine how this conflicted with my innate rebellious nature? I am the happy result. ;)
There is great freedom in knowing, accepting and loving who you are, all of it, demons and angels.
I also think that this is the only way to build real connections with others.

Flying in the face of the idea in this modern online messy dating world I believe that a real connection with someone will bring them back into your life or keep them there in some sense. We have many soul mates, those who speak with us at a soul level. If they do not then the connection was not real or a total disconnect was necessary for whatever reason. The reason does not matter. When the connection is real it remains. It is that text saying hi months after the last one. Or that flash of memory that brings a smile to your face. We are all here on individual journey's whether we want to be or not and we need to recognize that not all those who deeply touch our lives can continue with us on our journey in the manner in which we might desire. When we approach each relationship, each interaction as a learning opportunity without attachment to expectations we honor our own journey and the journey of those who stroll along our path for awhile. The only constant is change. Recognizing the impermanence of life is the key to letting go and letting be.  And most importantly, to doing so with love.

In My Mom's Memory

The events of the past two days have me thinking about my mom. How would she react if she knew her brothers and sisters and their children were treating us this way. She was indeed a Jehovah's Witness when she died. She was also educated and fiercely protective of her children. She did not live through the vast changes in JW doctrine. She thought we would never go to elementary school in this 'system of things'. How would she feel now? If she were a fly on the wall.

Perhaps this is the question my aunts, uncles and cousins should ask themselves. Her memory is a big part of family gatherings. She was the oldest and I her eldest child. My daughters are her grandchildren. How would she feel seeing the way we have been treated by her family??

I like to think that had she lived she would have been the freespirit I have been told repeatedly she was and would have recognized the utter garbage the religion espoused by her family is. Religious beliefs used by the family to sow guilt. Using the false promise of seeing her again on a 'paradise earth' to keep us towing the line. How would she feel about it if she could see us right now?

I am going to rest my emotionally weary head tonight easy with the knowing that she would not be pleased. And I like to think that she would be proud I have not used this lie to chain her grandchildren to this rubbish for any longer than I had. I KNOW my mother would be proud of my children and I, and of her siblings, not so much.

Chew on that.

Interesting Invite...

...I made assumptions, based on experience and knowledge, that the family BBQ was a no go zone for me. I saw the invite on Facebook awhile back but because I am out of touch and because of the previously noted assumptions I made no plans to go. Then...this afternoon at work, I get a call from an aunt. The kind of call that my response upon realizing who it was, is..."okay...who died?"  Because these people do not call me unless a family member is dead or dying. The ones from the past who are still tied to the apocalyptic cult better known as the Jehovah's Witnesses. Where I am known as an apostate. The worst of the worst of those who leave. Or at least it used to be. Thus my assumptions.
Which, it appears, are incorrect! Apparently while I was busy living my life some of the more hard core followers have loosened up a bit. I have watched over the years as many of my cousins have left so that those in are now outnumbered by those of us who are out. However, finding out that some of the older ones have loosened their views a bit has come as a surprise to me.

The call from my Aunt would suggest this is the case, as she is a hard core follower, a true believer, and yet she was the one who called to make sure I was aware that I was invited. Conversation regarding my surprise at this ensued. That and that no one was actually dead. Because apparently it is surprising that I would think that is the only reason they would call...well duh. Why else??
Anyway, to make a short story long... I am invited to the family BBQ and it is a "no drama" zone. A keep your individual beliefs to yourself and just be respectful and loving to all those who are there kind of gathering. Interesting!

To be fair, they have had these gatherings before, with those who are not in but also not 'out' to the extent I am. Because I have historically been 'persona non grata' number one, I have never attended. Nor have any personal invitations of this type been extended.

 I had to call my cousin after work because the confusion and skepticism hung on long after the phone call. I seriously thought this was so weird. After speaking with my cousin I was convinced that attending was the thing to do. Reassured we would be welcome. So I rearranged my weekend to include two visits, one on both days, first with my daughter and her girlfriend on Saturday and on Sunday with my boyfriend. I let my relatives know my timing should they like to see me on the event Facebook page. We were excited to go and see family, a high percentage of whom do not tow the JW line. Cousins we haven't seen in years! And a few who, JW or not, would be happy to see us. Although they might not spend much time with me, it would be a great opportunity for them to spend some time with two of the most beautiful humans that are my daughter and boyfriend. How awesome!! Maybe they are loosening up a bit!

As I write this I am working to stay true to how I felt. Excited and hopeful! Happy for the opportunity to see family gathered together at what appeared to be an all inclusive event!

...and like a punch to the gut, I get the message from my non-JW cousin at whose home the event is to take place, that he would, with heartfelt apologies and "out of respect for his wife's religious beliefs", have to ask me not to attend. Well...fuck. I should have known it was too good to be true. How could I be so stupid to think that anything has changed. That maybe they have learned what love really is.

I took a screenshot and sent it off to my daughter, boyfriend and cousins with whom I had been discussing attending. Surprise ensued. Disappointment, sadness and anger followed. Kudos to my daughter who blasted the internet personal space of Facebook with all she was feeling. In words I wanted to scream to the universe along with her. 'Go fuck yourselves! We are DONE! Do not ever invite us again! We have carried on without you for this long, we will continue to carry on just fine without you!'  Etc,etc. And very well put I must say. She can write.

Anyway, here we are not going. And here I am struggling with rehashing old shit. Same old same old. Angry with myself for allowing hope to arise within myself, and worse passing it on to my children.
I have lived with this for so long why am I allowing it to hurt me now??

I knew last month during the last conversation with my Dad that I will ever have that he was a lost cause. But I had heard rumors of others loosening ... so hope springs alive from the well within. Because I yearn for them to learn love as I know it. For them to enjoy life, to let go of the misery they are immersed in. Remove themselves from the lie they believe to be true. That's why.

But because love comes with boundaries, I am with my daughter on this one. Unless you can be all inclusive of those who are your family by blood ...fuck you. You are toxic to all that I am and believe myself to be. You are toxic to those who are most important to me and I will not allow your toxicity to touch me and mine. As long as you call yourself a Jehovah's Witness and follow their old white men with their toxic view of love, it is YOU who are not welcome in our lives. Peace, out.

It's Been Awhile...

.... and much has changed ... and much stays the same.

This time I am reviving my blog so I can promote and motivate myself in the writing of my book. Yes, I do think I may have done this before. Nevertheless, here we go again. Although this time I am going to endeavor not to make it short lived. I realized just now that I love writing just as much I love immersing myself in my various works of creation. What the hell, may as well promote that here too. One day I hope to make a living at it. In a studio overlooking the water... a girl can dream cant she?
...though I am happy to report, those dreams are beginning to seem closer and even attainable.

Below I give you the beginning of the forward so far and part of the first chapter of my book... feel free to comment.
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Forward and disclaimer...

How does one start a book about the content of their life without revisiting the occasions in which the deepest scars have been made? I have started this book many times and have many journal writings that can still be difficult to read. How young and naive I often was. How beaten but not entirely broken I have been. Many times. I have been told that sharing my experiences can be of service to others. Then that beaten little girl in me pipes up and says…no you’re not good enough. How can you help others when you are entirely fucked up yourself? …she says. I heard a saying once … can’t recall at the moment who said it, but the words were, more or less… ‘when you can go deep within the wounds of your past without tears, you have healed.’ Can you heal from those wounds completely? There is a part of me that says no. Those scars will always be with us. Always. It is what we do with them that matters. The difference between wallowing in self-pity and setting the wounds free to be what they are. Our demons. Our darkness. The deep hidden internal scars we hide from the rest of the world. I say… know them and know them well. Knowledge is power.

So ….those scars. My scars. This memoir will endeavor to go deep with them. Although it will undoubtedly be coloured slightly off shade by my own perception of my memories and the colour of the stories embellished from the memories of others, I promise the most honest reflection of my experiences, the lessons learned and the many mistakes made that I can deliver.

I also forewarn the reader that my writings will often be raw and offensive with forthright profanity, damn fine grammar and contain an often-extreme usage of an extensive vocabulary. I recognize that it may come off as arrogant, I can be. I know I will often look like an asshole, I am. But I am also aware that I have a beautiful mind. Critical yet generous in charitable interpretation, skeptical but naive, argumentative as well as compliant. Believe me, no one is more aware of my paradoxical nature than I am.

To my family… both those of my relations that have managed to stay that way and those who have not, I would, perhaps, ask for forgiveness to the details I have not gotten correct. Try to understand that these are stories as I recall them. My own interpretation of the various situations as my mind has allowed me to understand them. From the collection of stories of my early childhood as told to me by various aunties and uncles over the years. Hearing them with new ears many years after the events themselves or hearing them differently from other aunties and uncles who were around at the time. This is my interpretation of those events and …frankly, I actually don’t care if you forgive any offense taken by that interpretation. To some of you…both fuck you and gawd dammit, I am trying to love you anyway. To some of you… both pity and sadness because you are stuck in a façade, one that knows not what love is regardless of how much you think you are the only ones do. Bulletin: you fucking don’t. YOU DO NOT KNOW LOVE. Period. And I think you know you are. Yet there is this part of me that screams at you … there is still time to learn and practice what love is. Is that hope? Yes a bit. A fantasy I occasionally indulge in until the realist in me says… some will never learn. To the rest of you … I love you and I am so glad you are part of my tribe. Family is not by blood… it is built by love, mutual respect and acceptance. By cheerleaders not naysayers. To my tribe members … this book is my tribute to you. Thank you for your support in all the directions I have taken. For the advice, sometimes taken other times not. Occasionally to my own detriment…. Through it all you have stood by my side, whether metaphorically or physically, and I am forever grateful.

I think for shits and grins I will begin this way…

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, a child was born. Not quite illegitimate but I was at least part of the reason my parents married. Yes, it was the 60’s, free love and all that. However my mother was a Jehovah’s Witness… a pregnant Jehovah’s Witness. Second generation. One doesn’t get choose the hand they are dealt. One has no choice but to play them.

I was born in Calgary, Alberta where my mom had been attending college and my father joined her there while she finished her studies. It has been said that my father went there to visit with the intention of getting her pregnant. I have no idea if this is true, I only know that about 9 months after that visit I arrived and prior to my birth they were married.

I recall nothing of my 13 months in Calgary. My first childhood memory that is clear, is being carried by my father into my grandparents house on the anchorage outside Fort St. John. I recall chewing on the end of a chicken leg bone. Apparently at that time it was not considered a choking hazard. I recall kittens …and that my mom was with us, although that part is less clear to me. She is often a blur.

There were always a gazillion people around… perhaps due to the fact my mother was the first child of 15. Yes, 15. Can one even imagine this nowadays?? You all were crazy! Although yes, times were different. Children could work the farm. No easy access to birth control. But … hey sex is important!!

No seriously … sex is important! More on that later…I digress.