Heartache and the need to write...

Like the first 40 or so years of the last century, the world is once again looking at a maelstrom of social issues and wars. Culture wars online, information wars, all that feed the physical war and pharma machine. Ukrainians suffer horrendously and the League of Nations... er... UN refuses to remove the aggressor from the Security Council while far right groups the world over suck up the ruZzian propaganda with bloodthirsty straws from the safety of their Western basements. And how in this day and age ANYONE cannot see that the ruZzians are committing atrocity after atrocity, genocide of both Ukrainians and Syrians ...speaks volumes to the hold on hubris so many have. 

In Canada the gender wars are getting heated with hate propaganda and misinformation fomenting both sides. Soon to come is round two of the Covid wars. Lockdowns and vaccinations coercion possible? How will they handle the backlash this time? Here too, is an attack on individual rights and a challenge to democracy. It is becoming more apparent every day, yet hard core deniers on both sides have drawn their lines in the sand. All I freaking wish is we would fucking learn. That our leaders would have integrity when it comes to the democracies they are supposed to lead. Listen to the voices! As a country we value and encourage diversity but the pendulum has swung too far and the swing back is always faster than the push upwards. It going to be a ride. What a time to be alive. 

That said... this shit takes it's toll on both my mind and my body. So I write... because it is getting too heavy to carry. 

Grief from the loss of my mama at a very young age has long knocked from the box I learned to keep it in. Far back in a deep corner of my mind not to be touched except in the most superficial of ways. I would accept no pity as a young adult, even now no sympathy required. For me it was just a fact of life. The matter of fact manner I accepted her death was both due to being a witness to it and a month away from 4 years old. It has been my dark friend all of my life. But I try not to spend much time with her. With all the global chaos and now with Oscar gone on walk about she's knocking a lot harder than usual. So I am sitting with her for a bit and reminding her as always...All will be well. All will be well. All manner of things will be well.

Thank you for reading. And if you cross paths with Oscar let him know his fur-mom misses him like crazy and he should come home now. 

Peace, love and rainbows. 

Pan Braised Tuna Steaks ...Dinner with a Friend

First the recipe: 

Pan Braised Tuna Steaks 

 

P.S. I use a gas stove. I am not sure I could achieve the same success otherwise. But I know cooks who can...so it's doable on an electric stove, apparently.

On the day I made this meal my bestie and I spent the hot, sunny afternoon on my deck. A cool mist spraying from the hose occasionally yet pleasantly interrupted our animated conversation. The thing I love about my beautiful friend is their calm and peaceful manner underneath of which simmers a fierce intolerance for any potentially harmful actions that may be perpetrated in their or their loved ones direction. Our conversations run the gamut from the current geopolitical situation to alien life and how totally strange human beings are. Always our own constant internal struggles and personal growth are topics for discussion. This human has helped me grow in so many ways. Fed me encouragement, love, acceptance and especially tolerance for all of my idiosyncrasies. The least I can do is cook a good meal and bask in the glory of their company. 

Rock on, peace, love, rainbows and unicorns. (Imagine emoticons.)

Copyright @natj333  #natj333 #natscreations 

So it's 2021 ... Time to Re-new My Blog

Good gawd where has the time gone?? So much has happened since I last published. I have numerous unfinished drafts from 2019...thank you ADHD. I may post them later with updates on the subject matter... that might actually be interesting, to me at least. I have been aching to write but have had some trouble determining which medium gives me the most bang for my time and it is my blog where I am most inspired to share. Not that book plans are out the window, but do I really want to write it with a 1945 Underwood? If I do my book is going to look more like a collage. Which I can actually envision in not an entirely displeasing way. And the pen doesn't seem fast enough for my flow of thought, especially with my penchant for neatness and insistence upon writing in cursive. So new keyboard with retro typewriter keys and a slot for my Surface Pro and my phone when I am working. I like it. A combination of old and new. 

Anyway... here we are smack dab in the middle of a global pandemic. Enough about that. It is what it is and it will be until humanity learns. That over which I have no control I endeavor not to worry about. Other than the events in East Ukraine that is. But that is another subject into which I would rather not delve. I started this blog again to share my goal of increasing the zen in my life and to address those pesky residues of Complex PTSD. My intention is to be open about experiences in my life in an effort to help others who may relate. Share tidbits of my internal struggles. Possibly illicit thought provoking emotional reactions. Whichever suits.

Although I normally despise labels, I will use 'ADHD' and 'Complex PTSD' as I have struggled with all of the classic symptoms at different times for good reason and both types of mental health issues are well defined and familiar. I had a diagnosis for PTSD years ago but have never been on prescribed medication for it. That and unless I need emergency surgery I typically avoid doctors. As for the ADHD I in no way consider it a hindrance and am amazed not everyone works the way I do. But it's a handy excuse sometimes, am I right? In my view, it is merely a different way of looking at the world and those who can't see what we see need us for perspective. And visa versa. We need boots on the ground people on our side to keep us flying off only the universe knows where. 

As well, for those who are interested I will be sharing recipes I have come up with that are gluten and wheat, rye or barley and their bi-products free. I am an undiagnosed celiac. (See the previous post for an explanation.) I eat whole food as much as possible and have generally a paleo/keto/whole30 type diet. I am currently trying to do whole30 but meh ...seemingly arbitrary rules. I hates them. I am only human and as most of us are, doing the best I can in an overwhelming world.

 Fuck sakes... I digress. 

The entire point of my post was to share my intention to downsize my material possessions, including my books (....ouch!!), to only those items that give me a 'fuck yes' feeling. Simple. If I have to think about it, why do I have it? I am also determined to live smaller and larger at the same time. Smaller footprint, more life. So I actually sold my Walking Dead Vol.1-3, my entire Dark Tower series and am weeding out the rest of my extensive Stephen King collection. Stephen King got me through some of the most difficult years of my life and even considering getting rid of them is a bit of a shock to my system. I know there are few I would read again, and I have read them all, some of them many times. The Stand stays. Along with the collection that includes The Long Walk, those are hands down my favorite and I have read them many times. And I will read them again. Stephen King got me through so much I can't even ...but perhaps it is time to leave some dark things behind. 

I am, henceforth, manifesting our future vision. One day I may share what it is. What I will do is share some of my journey with you lovely readers. I have a need to journal and have long been encouraged to share my story ... boom. Journal blog. Daily entries unlikely but we shall see where this ride takes us. Stick with me if you can, it may get interesting. Beware, allegories and metaphors ahead.

(Disclaimer: much of this post was written in February 2021. Procrastination is a symptom of ADHD. Just saying.)

Rock on, peace, love, rainbows and unicorns.(Imagine emoticons.)

Copyright @natj333 @natanis333 #natj333 #natscreations #natanis333 

Starting fresh for the bazillionth time...

 If there is one thing I should be used to by now it is change. Especially my own self-directed change, not so randomly burning bridges while in survival mode. Now as things change, it is coming from a deeper desire to be a better, healthier human so I can live to be 100 years old. My PIC and I have future goals and plans. Our home life has now calmed down to a harmonious and healthy peace from which we can better move forward. 

For the past decade or so I have endeavored to eat healthy and maintain a primarily gluten-free diet. I am an undiagnosed celiac who suffers from dermatitis herpetiformis. Before taking issue with the 'undiagnosed' part, research first.

I will say this though; at the beginning of the Covid 19 pandemic I had the absolute worst breakout of the celiac rash I have ever had. It was 3 months of absolute torment to get it under some form of management. I could have had it diagnosed at that time, however it would not be considered urgent enough as the health system was dealing with the pandemic. Fortunately, I was primarily working from home and could manage the extreme discomfort. It took 6 months of absolute wheat, rye and barley free and clean eating, including the complete absence of grain alcohol before my skin quit blistering, itching and peeling. Minor contaminations became a week long ordeal of new blisters. My entire body other than the soles of my feet, my face and the palms of my hands have had blisters. At one point, for about the longest 3 weeks of my life, I had tiny erupting and insanely itchy blisters all over my body neck to ankles. 18 months of totally clean eating and I am rash free without a breakout for about 2 months now. I will never intentionally consume wheat, rye or barley and their many derivatives again. Which, by the way,  now makes a diagnosis impossible. One must have an active rash and/or have an intestinal biopsy after 6 weeks of eating wheat and gluten. NOT. FUCKING. HAPPENING. Besides, my lower intestine has surely begun healing along with my skin. 

So I have to be that person at the restaurant who makes sure that what I am ordering is totally gluten-free, wheat-free and free of any other possible exacerbating ingredients. For the most part my PIC actually harasses restaurant staff to ensure I don't get contaminated. He is well aware of the consequences of my eating even minute amounts of any wheat or gluten and all derivatives thereof. Mostly I don't do take out or restaurants and have to get creative in my own kitchen. For my own wellbeing and survival. Blah, blah, blah. Anyway...

I am now endeavoring to complete the wholefood 30 process again and it is a bit tough going. I do enjoy my after work ritual cigarillo and cocktail after all. The food isn't a problem, my nicotine addiction is, but only moderately. You know, 'all things in moderation, even moderation'. Life is too short to completely drop all the so called 'bad' stuff but self-control is necessary. So I am working on it. Thank the universe for nicotine inhalers.

To be frank, the psychological rules on the whole30 program are the most difficult for me to abide by. I despise them and thus rebel. If I want something 'breaded' and all ingredients are whole30 compliant, I will make it 'breaded' dammit! - such as in the recipe below, 'breaded' with ground almonds. Same with the banana & egg pancakes with fresh berries and coconut milk. (Recipe: 1 banana- mashed and blended with 1 or 2 eggs... that's it. Fry in a cast iron pan like pancakes, top with berries and canned coconut milk. Yummy sweetish treat and healthy breakfast.)

As part of working on it I made the absolute yummiest chicken strips! Because I have been cooking all of my life and like the old-fashioned methods of few ingredients and simple instructions, and rarely follow a recipe anyway, my recipes will be tailored for the seasoned cook, (who else despises recipe blog preambles?). Feast your eyes upon the following example: 

Almond Crusted Chicken Strips

dried rosemary, sage, marjoram, thyme, basil, ground hot chili pepper, pink Himalayan salt. ground pepper

        *grind together to taste (see photo)

finely chopped garlic and shallots, 2 eggs well-beaten

- add - raw chicken strips, and ground almonds - stir until well-coated

Fry in cast iron skillet at medium heat in ghee. 

I do realize that most folks do not work the way I do. So here is a picture of my ground spices:

Please note: as much as possible I use my own dried herbs.

In my view, the rest should be self-explanatory. Should it not be please comment with any questions  and I will answer them. 

This weekend I have worked on a number of food items to help transition to this new way of eating. Backyard berry picking, dried rosemary storing, mixed nuts and dried fruits preparing (see photo), and mentally preparing for the fruit crops soon to be ready and needing to be prepared for storage and eventual consumption, to name a few. My to-do list is long but full of small projects that my ADHD/PTSD addled mind can complete. (Fucking labels...more on that at a later time...maybe.) Cheers to actually being able to checkmark things as done on my to-do list. Baby steps...

Mixed fruit and nuts: 

walnuts, cashews, almonds - 1/2 pan roasted with ghee and pink Himalayan salt. Half not. 

chopped pitted dates, dried cranberries and chopped dried apricot. Shake in jar to mix.

Voila!! Whole30 approved snack!

I usually complete a post with an intention to write more and maintain a consistent ritual of blog posting to get me motivated to put together my book. It is one of my goals. However as part of my healthy transition I am determined that my extra-curricular activities be primarily those I wish to do, so no promises ...and the road to hell is paved with good intentions, as it is said. 

Rock on, peace, love, rainbows and unicorns (imagine emoticons). And as my PIC would say "Good health to you!" 

copyright @natj333 #natj333 #natscreations #whole30adventures #wholefood #cleaneating 

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.
________________________________________________________________________________

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.

Sunny Saturdays...

Shouldn't I be at a beach?? Maybe, but at the moment I feel like I should be right here in front of my computer filling a previously blank screen with text. I want to sit with my recent epiphanies and express my joy at personal awakening.What better space for that than this one? I've always been better with written word than spoken. Surprising I'm sure. (insert eye roll) Yes, I am aware that I also have always definitely been a tiny bit of a big mouth. I have to tell you though I am finding peace in my solitude. I have become less vocal or rather discerningly vocal. Running a cost benefit analysis prior to speaking. Goes much the same for social media. Oh I have my days, if its something that I might be particularly passionate about and there is a possibility to influence reasoning and exploration of ones thoughts, a willingness on the part of the reader to see all sides. Alas, there are few opportunities. And since I am no longer editing my online dating profiles, I have some time to explore and share my thoughts and have chosen this medium to do so. Lucky you.

Here is my Saturday thought. While I have been saying for sometime that we chose to be happy, that happiness is a conscious choice we make, the truth of this came clearer to my mind today. There is a part of me that does wish perhaps I wasn't spending the day alone and I have to acknowledge her, because she is the scared little girl. Sounds a bit backwards doesn't it? Isn't the scared one the one who doesn't go out? Nope. The scared one is the one whose demons are obvious to only a few of her closest friends and are such that she must face them alone.The ones that are silent when I'm distracted by the company of others. The ones that tweak and niggle begging for attention with constant tapping from the inside of my skull only when I am alone. The what ifs, whys, should haves, could haves. They interrupt my peace and joy, needlessly. I've battled these demons many times in their iterations as flashbacks, anxiety, migraines, weight gain, etc. I won those battles, but those who know will agree, you never beat your demons. Eventually you sign a treatise and make peace. Then one day you become best buds because those demons have your back. You find creative, hopefully legal, ways to keep them happy. They become your radar and when they blip on the screen of your mind you acknowledge them but instead of reacting without thought now you sit back and go "Hmm. Interesting. How about that! Why is that there? How did it get there? ...ahhh. I know where that is from." You take note, explore it and then decide if it warrants a red flag or a green one. (...sorry rambling, I know...I always have to take the circle route). Point being that you make a conscious choice based on that process. And that choice is a decision to be happy. Because we cannot control or change any external factors that are not ours to control or change. And what we cannot not control or change needs not be worried about. Acknowledged, yes. Determine importance, whether or not it may be within our power or influence. Better yet, do we even want it to be? Is it going to matter in a week, a year, tomorrow? How do we actually feel about it, in our gut? Is is a good vibe or a bad vibe? Write it down then let it go, because really, the most important part of validation is acknowledgement. And we can get that from ourselves rather than seeking it elsewhere. Once we are able to do that... then we are happy. All it comes down to is choice.
Peace, love and rainbows.

Friday night contemplation...

...so here I sit in the big city, in front of my computer instead of out in the sunshine, or finding my way to a club. Not going on a date, or out to do any number of other things. Why is that? Oh I've done plenty since I arrived. When I want to I wander, the streets, the park, Metrotown, downtown ...I do go out. I am just no longer in a rush to experience all that I can. I'm no longer that coiled spring under tension from circumstance that once released goes off like a rocket. I've found my pace. Thankfully it took far shorter a period of time than it did when I was 18. The second 'teenager leaving home feeling' has dissipated and I'm feeling grounded. Being in a space I can call my own helps I'm sure. And knowing I don't have to move for at least a year or worry about work also helps!

Unfortunately being settled means I now have time to over think, over analyze and other wise torment myself with my inner critic. That little voice that still says "you're not good enough" "nobody is going to love you the way you are" "you're too this" "you're not enough that" blah blah blah ad nauseum. Yes, me. That strong confident women who endured and finally left two bad marriages. That vocal woman who has no problem waving a rainbow flag and speaking her mind in public. That woman who earned a Bachelor's Degree while working full time and as a homemaker.Yes, THAT woman struggles with insecurity, low self esteem, PTSD and anxiety. Understand I do recognize how awesome I am. I am not unaware that I have been a voice for many, an inspiration even. I can at times be arrogant in recognition of my intellect. My education. My work accomplishments. My creative abilities. And yet, yes, I struggle with the feeling of inadequacy and the fear of ending up alone for the rest of my life. Ridiculous right?

So what is the point of this... I guess the point is that I am happy to finally be at a place in my life where I do my best to be fully aware of who I am, of both my accomplishments and my failures. To take responsibility for how I feel. To step back and assess before I react. To make a conscious effort to recognize the inner critic for who she is ... a frightened little girl out in the big bad world. To tell her its going be okay...we've been here before and we did just fine. We did better than fine... for look at where we are now. " Yeah. Sitting at home alone on a Friday night in front of a computer writing this," she laughs.

...and that friends is why it's called 'Distracted Ramblings...' You're welcome. The cedar is calling me. Peace, love and rainbows.

Paint, words, holes.

My paintings of late have continued to employ intensifying spirals and swirls. Roots and thorns protruding, flashes of electricity and synapses connecting a diverse array of eyes, irises and pupils, a play of shadows and light. Symbols of life and death, growth and decay, phases and layers, never ending and ever deepening cycles. Such is life. Particularly so for the person who has been set free of oppression, both external and internal, real and imagined. We can find a rabbit hole of discovery in every experience, each smile, bite, nibble, outright pain and melancholic moment, intense orgasmic joy, mutual peruse and the like. We feel everything, often immensely, and yet detach ourselves from those feelings and any expectations arising from them. Purposely much of the time, so that we can observe our own feelings from a distance. We sit with them, question them, seek our triggers, discover the roots, clip the thorns, accept full responsibility for them, for they are ours and we own them. Every. Single. One. 

When I paint I immerse myself in those feelings and express them as best I can in the form of color and shades of light and shadow. My paint brush guiding the flow, providing texture and fluidity with each stroke. My writing …well …here you are reading it for yourself. Each word chosen specifically to express the depth of the feeling being observed. Exploring the dimensions within the often superficial apex of the rabbit hole. Even the choosing of the exact word is in and of itself a bunny jump.

So here I sit on a sunny but breezy Saturday in my new digs in New West, in front of my computer screen. Not that I'm not enjoying the weather from my perch in front of my large kitchen window. I find it comforting to watch the play of the sunlight on the branches of the cedar that grows in the neighbor's yard. The pale blue sky clear except for the stream left by another flight arriving or leaving YVR. I love this oasis of solitude within the ordered chaos that lies just beyond my view from behind the glass. 

As I have both plenty and nothing to do this afternoon, I will stop at this juncture. This fork in the road... but suffice to say... the words are flowing again. Peace, love and rainbows.

It's a New Life...

Here I am ... in the city. Six months already and finally in my own place after staying with my child and her girlfriend. If there was ever a time when I felt that the world was my oyster it is now. The joy I feel being here can't be measured. I definitely needed a change of environment, people, views, and pace. The feeling of being surrounded yet still alone is enigmatically consoling. The anonymity one can only find when surrounded by a sea of people. I have a rejuvenated motivation to write. Something I haven't felt like doing in a long while. A certain amount of heart break always helps motivate my writing. Remind me to thank my muses.

Pride & Purpose.

The last couple of days I have sat in sorrow and despair for humanity, for this planet we live on. How can we have come so far and then in a flurry of bullets from a madman be thrown backwards? Back into a state of fear? Fear that living our truth, being who we are is cause for being murdered?

I recognize that there are millions of people worldwide who live in this a state of fear...because of hunger, poverty, nasty regimes, and these too are issues that if humanity so desired we could resolve. But here in North America, where we are supposed to be so much more enlightened than the rest of the planet, a madman, for whatever reason, can buy an assault rifle and walk into a place of joy and pleasure and mow down 49 people. Why? Because they were LGBTI (lesbian gay bisexual transgender intersex). North America where the civil rights movement freed those oppressed by racial segregation, where women won the right to vote through suffrage, where gay marriage has been recognized and legalized, where pride events illicit only a few loud obnoxious religious right voices but little to no violence. Where so many struggles affecting us all have been hard fought and won. How? Why? WTF?!?!?

I sat in wonder...why am I feeling this way? Why has this yet another ridiculous mass shooting in a country with ridiculously lax gun laws impacted me so greatly? Unlike the many other mass shooting  (a total of 136 in 2016 ...this year alone and it's only JUNE!) what is different? I realized after discussion with a friend, it is because this one hit way too fucking close to home. Perhaps that sounds cold to those who have lost people in the way too many other mass shootings, I don't mean for it to. It isn't just about it hitting close to home...it is about it hitting those who have fought long and hard for their rights. Despite their state representatives continuing to introduce bills to limit them, despite the loud obnoxious voices of the religious right spewing bible verses as though they  mean something to people who actually understand the concept of unconditional love, despite our loud voices against what we KNOW is wrong we continue to be hated, derided, maligned, beaten and murdered, and NOW mass murdered! In a place in which we have felt safe! And yes, I say WE because that is the depth of my solidarity with LGBTIs. They are my family, my friends, my community...a place where I always feel welcome, loved and accepted. So I guess I have taken it rather personally and so should you. There should be no place for this kind of hatred, the kind that is bred of self loathing developed over years of religious and societal indoctrination. The kind of indoctrination I am way too familiar with and left far behind long ago.

What can I do?? My insides are screaming. How can I stop a madman from murdering my family? I can't. No amount of rainbow crosswalks can stop it. No amount of Pride events can stop it. What I can do is shed light where there is darkness. Educate where there is ignorance in the hopes that someone will listen and learn. I will continue to paint rainbow crosswalks and organize Pride events. And now I will work to educate, to eradicate the ignorance that embodies these mad people and fight against the indoctrination that leads them to believe that how we live our lives is somehow wrong. That our differences make us less than them or anyone. I will do what I can to show that LOVE IS LOVE regardless of what their ancient outdated books may say. No one owns anyone else, we are not possessions. No one has the right to determine whose so-called morals are more correct. No one has the right to determine the correct path for another human. It comes down to this in my view, and this alone... if it harm none, including yourself, do what you will. Imagine the world if this alone guided our actions.

I now have renewed purpose. A damn shitty way to get it but when I leave this world I will do so knowing I did what I could to fill it with love. Peace, love and rainbows.

November...

... a month of remembering, of pain, of love, of bittersweet memories of those long past from my life. Today I feel like I am wallowing and perhaps I am. I finally watched our Family Reflections dvd ...it has remained in its packaging since I received it after my grandpa's death in 2009. Tears streamed down my face amid the smile on my lips seeing all the faces that were part of my childhood. I share my history with a very few trusted friends and even then I keep much of my pain hidden in dark places that very few can reach. It is the past and much of the time I chose to let it go as best I can so watching this dvd has been something I have long avoided. Finally watching it was soul cleansing. (Next my parents Wedding video...someday.)

I lost my mom at the tender age of four and though I have been blessed with many moms along the way the few memories I have of her burn bright. I treasure the stories told by her brothers and sisters among many others who knew her, and my grandparents kept her memory alive for me. I have spent little time wishing things could have been different because no one can change the past. It is what it is. I have, though, detached myself often through the years, from the pain of loss. I have held onto anger for the belief system that served to separate me from my sisters and my father, my aunts and uncles. Often I have felt so alone in my pain. When grandma passed away I reconnected with cousins who too were separated from family connections because of this damning belief system. In many ways these connections saved me. Brought my anger to the surface and helped me work through it. Gave me the courage to live, to forgive and to make my own way and face the fact that somethings can never be recovered but only accepted for what they are.

When grandpa passed although I felt like I had lost my last connection to my mom, my cousins were there and we celebrated the person we knew grandpa to be. The one who was and still is the glue that keeps us connected even though we are separated by distance. The one who showed true unconditional love to all of his children and grandchildren despite their supposed dysfunctions. We knew this even as we sat through a memorial service that did little to recognize this deep abiding love shown by my grandfather and focused on an afterlife that many of us present have no faith in.  As my Facebook newsfeed fills with pictures of the past I am filled with both melancholy and a deep love for the connection that remains strong held together by those photos, by grandpa's memory. A deep love for all of my grandparents progeny who have lived as grandpa lived, authentically and honestly.

Life is short, too short to live with regret, with anger, and too damn short not to live the way that works for you, however that may look. So I cherish the memories, the lessons, and the example my grandfather set. Although beliefs separate me from my sisters and my father, many of my aunts and uncles, I love them all. I wish nothing but the best for them. Even though we may not be a part of each others lives blood connects us and I honor that connection. I wish them peace and love. That is all.

Sexual Abuse...

...needs to be addressed seriously in our community. NOW. When leaders in our community have whispered allegations against them and they sit in positions of power it silences those who have been and still are victims. Sexual abuse is a cycle like any other kind of abuse. It is spoken of in hushed conversations because the victims have been robbed of their power to speak openly about their experiences. Sexual abuse is very often the root cause of addiction. When our young ones are trapped in addiction we need to ask why. There is always a reason and it is not because they are young and rebellious. Addiction is a way to numb pain. A coping mechanism. So let's ask...what are they trying to cope with?? What trauma/s have resulted in their addiction? In their self-destructive behavior?

As a survivor of multiple abusive traumas and a person who has over the years struggled with a few addictions, I can speak to this subject with some authority. I can confirm that addiction, whether it is alcohol, drugs or whatever, gives us a sense of return to power and control. That which has been taken from us. I also recognize that the majority of abusers, if not all, have themselves been victims. As my philosophy professor stated, "There is a reason for every behavior." When these reasons, the root cause, remain unaddressed the cycle continues. We need to break this cycle!!! We need to seek out those who have abused and make them accountable for their behavior AND address their victimization. We cannot do this by remaining silent!!! We must speak out!! I urge all of those in our community who are and have been victims to stand together and cry out to address this issue!! It is killing our young ones!! Not just in a physical sense...it is killing their spirit!! They are our future!! We need to do all we can to support them, get them the help they need before it is too late!!

When I was 6 years old I was abducted and abused by a person who was just getting started. I found out later that I was this person's first and he was just beginning to escalate. I recognize that this is a different situation than for those who have been abused by trusted family members. However, this event along with the teachings of the religion that silenced women and children, also abuse, placed me squarely in the position to be a victim of many other abuses, sexual, physical and emotional over many years. I know from my first marriage that after many years of counseling abusers who were also victims CAN be rehabilitated. The only way is for us to come out of hiding even if we are not initially believed.WE MUST SPEAK OUT!!

I now know my power and I have taken it back!! Please for the sake of our community and our children find your power...it is in speaking out!! Loudly and repeatedly until you are heard!! When we see those suffering with addictions recognize that this is a result of trauma...do not deride them. Recognize the roots of the behavior and lets work to address those root causes. We cannot save everyone but please people, let's focus on our young ones. Let's get them the help they need even if we have to drag them kicking and screaming! Are we not tired of watching them drown and die in their trauma??

I REPEAT ....SPEAK OUT! SPEAK LOUDLY! TRUTH IS POWER!!!

Channeling Russell Brand...

I have been reading Russell Brand's books. Currently into his "Revolution". (Note: The LOVE in Revolution is highlighted.) I must say his is one brilliant mind. He has been best friends with addiction and insanity and has lived to tell about it. He is hanging onto a certain amount of so-called insanity as it is actually society's notion of insanity that is a problem. Anyone who is not "normal" or lives in an altered state of consciousness is considered mentally diseased. Case and point, Jehovah's Witnesses consider anyone who has left their apocalyptic cult and has since grasped the notion that perhaps there is no god...or at the very least that JW's are some seriously fucked up folk are considered 'mentally diseased'. They have actually printed this in one of their magazines so the rank and file can be in tune with the notions of the top echelon. In mainstream society anyone who doesn't consider the Oscar's watchable or doesn't stay hip to the latest celebrity happenings are considered strange. Anyone who doesn't abide by society's lame ass rules and notions of morality are considered abnormal and mentally problematic. The DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders published by the American Psychiatric Association) lists various personality disorders based on behavior over time and how well that behavior fits within established society. Any behavior considered 'anti-established-society' is now a disorder.  Perhaps the problem is not the personality but the box of established society in which it has been determined we must fit. Anyone who actually knows me recognizes how much 'fuck you' I have for boxes. I am not a cat and neither are you. Boxes are for cats and shit that needs to be stored. They are not for people.

As I was reading I came across this rather long-winded gem. 

"Interestingly, Ganesh, the elephant-headed Hindu deity, is known as the remover of obstacles. When I first heard that, I thought it meant obstacles like a boss who irritates you or a boyfriend of a girl you like. Now I think it means the obstacles within the self that prevent you from being in harmony with "God". If you can be free from pride, self-pity, self-centeredness, selfishness, jealousy, envy, intolerance, impatience, greed, gluttony, lust, sloth, arrogance and dishonesty, then there is a state of serenity and connectedness within. Like Jesus said, "The kingdom of heaven is within," which seems, once and for all, to bust wide open the daft afterlife view of heaven as some kind of Lando Carlissian cloud kingdom that you can get into like Alton Towers if you acquire enough good-boy tokens."

As is well known amongst my peers, I am an atheist. I do not think there is a god. I do however, believe that there is an innate connectedness between all lifeforms. We are all made from stardust. I also believe that religion, intolerance, and all the above mentioned traits work towards driving a wedge between us as individuals and this connectedness. If we dropped all pretenses, society's need for image, and lived as our authentic selves then we would once again feel this connectedness and love would win out. The above mentioned traits are obstacles which keep us from becoming our authentic selves. They keep us from love in it's purest form. They keep us boxed in. Get out of the box I say!! The magic happens outside of the box!! That my friends is REVOLUTION!

Peace, love and rainbows.

Small towns...

...small minds. Of late I have apparently been a subject for speculation and rumors. I pay no attention to what folks have to say about me... at least I try not to. Because I do not want to care about what people think of me and for the most part I do not. With the help of a few very good friends ( you know who you are) I have been reminded that in my situation, newly single, I have to be my own best friend. I believe this to be the case regardless of one's marital status, it just becomes more apparent that when one is alone...they are truly alone. I am coming to terms with this and am enjoying my current shut-in status. I have been productive and am accountable to no one but myself. That is right folks, small town or not, I owe NO ONE an explanation for MY life. Say what you will, for what you have to say about me is not my business. I have no need to know. I do my very best not to gossip or judge. (That's right, unless you are a political force in our community, I am NOT talking or speculating about you and your life.) People do what they do. We all have our shit, our baggage and if you don't think you do...well that my friends is denial. Deep denial. I have a rich and colorful past which I have shared with very few people. No one but I know the details of my demons. They are mine and I guard them more so now than ever. I have lived many places and have always had my privacy respected. (Except as a Jehovah's Witness...talk about being under a microscope!) I have generally been an open book and have shared many of my experiences as they are wide and deep in a personal way and I feel that my experiences can and have helped others through theirs. I have recognized and been reminded of the necessity of keeping my book a little more tightly closed. Not necessarily to protect myself, but so that others can find the substance within their own lives rather than be enamored with speculating about mine. I have zero interest in what folks do in the privacy of their own homes. I judge no one's life for their experience is theirs and I am not in their shoes. Everyone does their best with the tools they have been provided and have acquired. I respect that it is their life, their circus, their monkeys. Everyone is many shades of dark and light whether or not they care to admit it or have the balls to do the internal work necessary to truly know, love and accept themselves as they are. I have done this work and continue to do so. The last 5 months have been ones of personal growth and acceptance. I am loving who I am and what my life has become and that is all that matters to me. If you must gossip and speculate it speaks far louder about the apparent lack of substance in your life than it says about me.

 I close this post with the quote below. To me this speaks volumes about how necessary it is to be your own best friend because when it comes right down to it you are the only one upon whom you can truly depend and the only one you can truly know. Peace, love and rainbows.

 "Had I not created my whole world, I would most certainly have died in other people's" ~ Anais Nin

More Rambling...

It would appear I am repetitive.  No real surprise there. I take it as a reminder to myself to continue on this journey I am on.
I have many plans for my future which include continued growth, regular yoga sessions, exercise and repeat trips to Seattle.  I intend to paint, draw, weave, build, refinish, create and recreate. I will do whatever the fuck I want to.

I am thinking "whatever the fuck I want to" should probably not include smoking cigars. Me and my addictive personality. (Note to self: you have already quit smoking twice...third time is a charm. Let's make it stick. My poor lungs.) It may include dancing naked in the moonlight...in the privacy of my own home of course. And let's face it...with a glass of red wine an occasional cigar goes pretty damn good.  Everything in moderation... not that I have ever been very good at moderation.

Currently I am the healthiest I've probably ever been.  I have had the recent EKG to prove it. Chest pain caused either by too many planks and downward dogs at yoga or possibly from ripping apart pallets. Either way...the doc says I am in exceptional health.  A hundred years total life looks doable.

The one thing I totally need to do...is write. I have been painting and weaving. Thoughts to paper has been somewhat neglected. Heres to trying not to neglect doing the things I love and am passionate about. Passion is life!

2015

2015. Another year I thought at one time I would never see. Being in an apocalyptic cult has a funny way of defining how you see your future. So does being married. Particularly when not happily so. This past year has been an entire year of determining what I want. How I want my future to be. What I want to do. Ditching the relationship was hard but was overall an easy decision as it had been holding me back in many ways since the beginning. Funny how we do that to ourselves. Pack ourselves into a relationship that looks different than the last one but is much the same. I had always thought it was versions of my father that I married but now I find that it was a combination of the cult, one of my sisters, (yes the hateful one whose moods and behavior often shaped the atmosphere in my childhood home, with good reason I might add) and yes, my father, that I married. Twice. ...okay bit of a meander there. Anyway, ...oh ya, finding myself. For the most part I have generally been rather proud of how self aware I am, or had been or thought I had been would be more accurate. I am finding out just how molded this person who has made a point of not being molded has been. How could I not be? I have been wading my way through mounds of what "Is this really what I want to do?" Is this what I want?" "Is this something I do because I have been conditioned to?" The pile is deep. I am no stranger to self discovery as it has always been vitally important to me to be authentic and true to myself regardless as to what others thought much of my adult life. So it is still somewhat shocking to me to find that I did not have this as well in hand as I thought. Last year was the year of letting go...this will be the year of finding me. I expect the finding me part to last the rest of my life because I do not feel we are ever fully complete. There is always learning to do. Self discoveries to make. I think the best way to find ourselves is to give our hearts precedence over our brains, love ourselves and accept all that we are and all that we will be. Give others the same acceptance and non-judgement. For that is love. This year I will find myself in the process of losing myself.

The Way Forward...

This past year has been about burning bridges and lighting my way... with my own inner light. It has been about recognizing my darkness and embracing it. It has been about learning that I don't really know who I am. I am an amalgamation of my journey and my journey has been a winding path of repeated self-destruction. I have allowed two marriages to eat me whole until there was barely a thread. Fortunately near the end of both relationships I have found people who have had the ability to tug on that thread and bring me back to life. Those are the people I am truly grateful for. Those who accept me without judgement, all of who I am and who I may end up being no matter who that is. Those who have shown me that love does not eat you alive. It energizes, refreshes and encourages growth. It does not stagnate, control, possess obsessively, and insist on its own way. True love liberates and frees. It watches with joy as you find your way and relishes in your happiness in whatever form that comes in. Love does not box you in a cage. It insists that you fly. And that love starts with yourself. My way forward will be accepting love in whatever form it appears. Loving myself and all that I am and all that I will be. I will not be boxed by societal norms, by the judgements or supposed morals of others. I will travel my individual journey in a way I see fit. I will feel, love, create, and follow my passions where ever they may be. I will live MY authentic life. Life is short...I will grab it by the horns and ride until I'm thrown...then I will get up and grab those horns again.