how much

how much = too much? how much = insufficient? how much = enough? over the past decade or so, daddy has always tried to do everything, not really allowed mummy to do very much. i appreciate the sentiment, but that just never seemed quite right. as a nurse, i try to assess just what activity level an individual can sustain, and encourage that individual to operate at that level. its always best if we do as much as we can for ourselves. and so, that lesson has come upon mummy and daddy the very hardest of ways. and so, today i sat while mummy used the dirt devil to quickly vacuum the kitchen floor. i know she feels as though everyone tells her what she cannot do, and like she's losing control. for heaven's sake, her own brother refuses to give her the keys to her own car! despite the fact that i am quite capable of driving said car! and so it goes ... with family.

virtues and lessons learned

i need me some patience. that, i suppose, is why i feel my patience tried and challenged so much lately. the lessons we need to learn appear before us time and time again in life, until we get it right. blah. daddy should not have to apologize for wanting to help. as a little girl he always involved me in the tasks he carried out. that's how i learned things. like how to cook. i want to protect him ... relieve him ... serve him. but ~ he's learning too. learning how to let others serve and look after him. i know ... its a tough lesson to face. i could never leave him. even if i wanted to ... i could not.

give me strength, dear god. please ... strength, grace and patience to get through these next few weeks.

denial

the air stagnates here ~ so much denial everywhere. i can barely breathe in this place. i have a crushing headache. patience escapes me at some key moments. i feel a bit like a caged lion. beholden to the clocks of others. caught in a ridiculous family dynamic of building empires and carving a path to martyrdom. heaven forbid that i should interfere with someone's ticket to martyrdom! i feel like a mule. i feel alone. tired. angry ... so angry at all the denial that surrounds me.

i want to give up ... but i do not want to run away.

a frail carousel

i want so desperately to write in this journal about the struggles a caregiver faces. i want to write about the constant, silent pain of watching age and disease slowly ravage an adored parent. i want to write about the grief that strikes a heart that has to tell a proud and independent parent s/he can no longer drive. i want to write a brilliant exposé about the carousel of life. but, alas, my dear friend .... i am so tired from enduring the silent pain; from carrying the grief of aging in my heart; from living through the minuscule and not-so-minuscule battles and frustrations that comprise my daily existence.

amidst all the reasonably organized chaos i find my heart feels happy to have a purpose ~ to once again, find balance through service to loved ones. and my marriage, that diamond-strong skin which has endured so much assault, has survived intact when we'd nearly abandoned it for dead. so many of the lessons my husband and i have faced in our partnership have necessitated long periods of separation. at the start of my marriage i would say to my wolf, 'i cannot live without you.' now i say, 'i can live without you, but i choose to live with you.'

i feel as though my grown children have transformed back into young, school-aged children. only, my parents have become the children in a way. getting mummy & daddy all bundled up for outside feels a lot like bundling my little ones up for the school bus. and so, the more things change ... the more they remain unchanged.

chihuahua!

Transcending Oneself

The experience of difficult and miserable times, themselves, hardly suffice as grounds for dissolution of a marriage. As the date of my wedding anniversary approaches, I remind myself constantly what a sacred entity I nearly threw away. And of how stupid and selfish I have behaved. One's life will always fail and falter if one places a drug, or any other material substance, in the centre of one's existence.

A marriage isn't just worthy when it serves my ego and makes me happy. And happiness (or lack thereof), seems to me, the STUPIDEST reason of all to contemplate ending a marriage. When is it ever wrong to want to fix what's sacred? If the spouses in a faltering marriage have extended to each other the gift of forgiveness and acceptance, than why should anyone else have trouble with things?

My decision is final.

I will entertain no further doubts or questions about it.
This time, I refuse to succumb to temptation ~
I have delivered myself from it.

life's like that

~ Happy 40th Birthday to Wulfine ~

Can You Hear Me Humming, Mon Cher?

"... When you're close to tears remember
Some day it'll all be over
One day we're gonna get so high
And though it's darker than December
What's ahead is a different colour
One day we're gonna get so high..."

i am ~ je suis ~ ich bin

i am water ~

flowing to the lowest places,

sometimes stormy,

sometimes bottomless,

the softest of substances,

yet, best at conquering the hard and strong.

unalterable ... unchanging

and, still ~

taking the shape of my surroundings.

~ the bird spirit lives strongly inside me ~

~ my animal spirit guide is the eagle ~

vision - seeing things others cannot

tenacity - hanging on, even when it hurts

~ graceful - mystical - creative ~

A Look Back

In the summer of 2006 Martin and I reached and impasse in our marriage. I left him, in fact [this, the first of a few times I left the marriage cage]. That first time, the death of our dog brought me back to the marriage. During this time, I started a secret blog to document this turmoil in my marriage. I spent some time Monday evening poking through that blog. I've compiled a few of these posts for you below. See if you can catch the story through the words I've written.

~ written 30.04.2006 ~

how i felt just after leaving

shreds ...

that's how it all turned out ... shreds. how, exactly, did this happen? i mean, it feels like i woke up and found my life like this ... shreds. WTF??? where, i wonder, was i when it all fell to shreds? drowning ... ? perhaps. drowning in a sea of identity thru others. velvet, mother. velvet, wife. velvet, existing only in relation to the others in her life. velvet, brutally wounded by the bayonettes called anger, grief, parenting. parenting ... we all want it. that's because we have no idea how horribly difficult, isolating and painful it really is ... and because we don't count on getting a child that's defective ... unable to fit the mold we so desperately want it to fit ... unable to even love its parents.

shreds. each and every day. the defective child ... the one the parents grieve, despite his physical presence. each day a new feeling of loss superimposed on top of the old feelings of loss. each day, the violent slap of unrequited love ... the painful desperation of knowing i love and do not receive any in return. shreds ... each parent, consumed in grief, anger, desperation. grief, with no closure. never closure. only a dull aching and a feeling of failure. FAILURE.

consumed. this thing ... consumed us. or ... we allowed ourselves to be consumed. does it matter now? we are empty nesters ... empty being the key word. we are left in the nest ... feeling empty, they have emptied us out ... the children of this marriage. what remains? two empty shells ... formerly known as ourselves. who are we? who am i? who is he? what are we doing here? besides brooding, brooding, and spewing unhappiness. when does love become habit ...? when does need become habit? habit ... an action one engages in without consideration. is that what we have become?

how does one extract oneself from the tangles of grief, anger, isolation, guilt, emptiness? can there be salvation? can there be redemption ...? i mean, redemption for the relationship ...? does anything remain to be redeemed? does whatever remains WANT to be redeemed? that, dear readers, is quite the question. isn't it?




~ written 4.05.2006 ~

10 days into it ...

that's how long since i left. i haven't left entirely, i suppose - for i still go there frequently. where do i reside? well, for now i reside inside myself. i sleep in the spare room of my mum's place, and a few of my things dot the room that had become the great book depository before i crashed mum's gate. the bulk of my belongs remain in some damp, cold storage locker 3 km from here. and shreds and shard of my life ... they still reside at that other place, along with the man, a co-pilot whose life grew into my own. and the dog ... 10 years old ... the last remaining dependent. pieces of me ... tender, blazing shrapnel ... lie in waiting. in waiting for what? for me to shine my shrill and shrieking light on them. waiting for me to rescue them. to rediscover them - you know - the way one discovers a cherished possession thought lost and gone forever?

what have i discovered, upon re-emergence?

1. this solitude - well its not really a solitude but it sort of is - this rediscovery ... it leaves me awe-filled daily. i listen to myself, to my body. it tells me things. i suppose it has tried to tell me these things all along - but, submerged, i could not hear. or perhaps i heard, but failed to listen. what have i learned? my body - every cell in my body - wants to grow, nourish and deliver a new life. without a doubt. i love. i'm amazed ... but i love. i think of myself as a shell enclosing a shriveled and blackened heart. yet, i find i have the capacity for enormous, voracious love.

2.epiphany! i see now that i have secretly (secret in the sense of unbeknownst to me) focused on and searched for what's missing. as opposed to finding happiness in what remains. comfort, habit, the enduring ... i had sunk so much into all of these ...to the point of submergence. this trivial life ... it sort of swallowed me - like Jonah, swallowed by the great whale. assimilated - i think i got assimilated. where do i begin and where does this life begin? this life ... its just circumstance ... its not me - not my essence. what a simple thought. and a truly startling revelation.




~ written 19.05.2006 ~

unchangeable entity

EDIT: realization. that running never solves anything. nor does distraction. the longing. from where does it originate? i have know, deep down there somewhere, all along that i could not live without lupin. maybe i didn't fully realize it. at all times.

this sad, visceral longing, that has loomed over my soul for these past few days - it's fear. i believe that its fear. of even thinking about changing the unchangeable. of challenging an entity that has weaved itself into the fabric of my heart. its like ... trying to envision living without water ... or oxygen. simply impossible. i cannot live without him, my lupin ... he is my water, my oxygen. as long as he is on this planet, i must exist with him.

but ... things do not have to be so black and white, do they? i like to think they do not. and think that ... i can choose to explore uncharted territory without wreaking complete havoc. i'm so glad in a way that this deep aching longing, which sat in the pit of my stomach for the past several days, i'm so glad that it has turned out to be my own fear. my own fear of changing the unchangeable.

yes ... there is a burning longing ... for ? feeling, unbridled passion, and possibly ... for one so far away - an escape? this ache -- it wants to know itself, that's all. know all the dark and tender secrets of my mind, the raw sensitive spots on my soul and ... whatever else i am willing to share with myself.

we must dare to dream, fantasize. i think we must.

but for now ... i wait.



 ~ written 13.07.2006 ~

and i said to lupin ...

"... you have served me so well. and i ... i have not served you nearly as well."

a profound realization.

and ... i'm truly convinced blazer had everything to do with it. convinced. and ... i'm no cracker jack .... just a soul who senses what others may miss. my darling and beautiful shaggy angel hound .... thank you .... it seems small to say so, considering all you have done. godspeed my hound. i feel you around me.




~ written 14.07.2006 ~

a dialogue with myself

and? shall i expect forgiveness? shall i expect all will be right again?
forgiveness is so much harder than being remorseful. it involves surrender.
i think that there shall be no grand absolution only forgiveness meted out in precious, tiny sips which lupin shall feed to me in spoonfuls.
and ... i think that it shall be enuf.

In less than 60 days one year's separation will have past. And I can then file for my divorce. I have begun the process of taking back my maiden name. And ... I will reconcile with Pilot. Its interesting, and worthwhile, looking back at the words I carved onto the screen, almost three years ago. It seems that, when a change must occur in a facet of one's life, it will occur, eventually, even in the face of one's personal protests.

My Heart is too Small

I AM ANGRY. PERHAPS MY HEART IS TOO SMALL?

"If your cup is small, a little bit of salt will make the water salty. If your heart is small, then a little bit of pain can make you suffer. Your heart must be large."

“I would not look upon anger as something foreign to me that I have to fight...I have to deal with my anger with care, with love, with tenderness, with nonviolence.”

“Just because anger or hate is present does not mean that the capacity to love and accept is not there; love is always with you.”

“In a time of anger or despair, even if we feel overwhelmed, our love is still there. Our capacity to communicate, to forgive, to be compassionate is still there. You have to believe this. We are more than our anger, we are more than our suffering. We must recognize that we do have within us the capacity to love, to understand, to be compassionate, always.”


~ Thich Nhat Hanh ~

Some Things on My Mind Right Now:

1. A challenge for those who call themselves CHRISTIAN ~ link

2. The planet has become too crowded for moral superiority and greed masquerading as altruism ~ lose the ego already.

3. I am tired of individuals who take, take, take from the bounty of others, and then cowardly run and hide when they receive their bounty. People like this just eat away at society, from the inside out.

4. God, give me the strength to overcome the anger of my ego ... and continue to love those who prove very hard to love. A great, painful anger oozes from my Self. Its so heated ... its vapourizing itself into my psyche. Its hurting me. Make it go away, please.

5. I still possess the capacity for love, despite this anger that sits upon my heart like a giant, heavy scab.

silly kitties

check the blue cheese blog for today's weekly post.

also, check the never shower in high heels blog for recent updates.

on the street where i live

~ wading in it?

it's a snapshot of the little walking man that one finds at every crosswalk-traffic light intersection. taken on a rainy Monday evening with my cell phone camera and then doctored using lunapic online. doesn't life sometimes feel like this image?



~ we endure.

like the mighty oak, we endure. methodically, with strength & sensibility, & grounded in longevity, vigour & loyalty. i feel like this leaf sometimes.





~ "... and forget about everything ..."

a rainy night, on the short walk home from the bus stop. the circle of life continues turning ... life moves perpetually forward. even when our spirits succumb to the inertness of despair, impatience and desire.

bus stop

On Monday evening I took a jaunt to the Safeway at Broadway Station to get some kitty food and litter. I walked to the bus stop at Commercial & 14th and then waited for the no. 2o bus. while I waited I took these 5 pictures.



Then found LunaPic, an online photo editor. and so 5 simple pictures inspired the images below.

~ remember ~

"...and the victory that day was turned into mourning unto all the people..."

my front yard

the smallest blessings possess the greatest beauty.
we never have to go very far, only think we do.
its all right there, if only we can open our eyes.

~ all photos taken by frizzy on her cell phone ~

exactly how big wuz it?

no words here on this silent Sunday.
if you want to read something .... check this

my polarity

~ september 22th ~

It’s happened. After 9 months of separation, living under the same roof, He has moved out. I feared, even just a few weeks ago, that the dissolution of the partnership would dissolve me. For … who have I been these many years? Someone’s wife. Someones’ mother. Someones’ nurse. An employee. A student. A patient. A victim. A fuck. An income. Defined in relation to others. Defined by a role I assume in daily life. Defined by an affliction. Defined by an action. Valued for the pleasure others can derive from their interaction with me.

I feel liberated. I feel relieved. I feel renewed - like I have the energy to sort through all these material things and purge, purge, purge. An external activity and process that mirrors my internal processes. Scatter and gather.



~ now ~

I have decided to revert back to my maiden name. I even purchased the letters to place on the mailbox ... to replace my married surname. I sleep alone ... I awake alone. Except for a grey feline ~ a female feline. She likes to wake me up by sitting atop me ... and kneading my hair with her paws. Personally, I prefer this method of wake-up to manipulative demands for sex. Making myself a man's prey quite hinders my sense of self worth. I'm no man's fucking pleasure vessel. I'm me. I don't know what exactly that entails yet, but I think I like it.

I have learned that it really doesn't benefit anyone to remain in a sparkless, lifeless marriage. No one ends up a winner when one sacrifices one's happiness for the longevity of a marriage. When life becomes a series of habitual scenarios and people strung together, as opposed to a mindful challenge, we've lost. And ... do we need to exist solely in pairs? Who says?



The other day, I drew the Death Tarot Card. For those of you unfamiliar with tarot, this card symbolises transformation and rebirth. And, so ... the end becomes the beginning. I see my life and the people in it thru an entirely different prism. Soon, I will mark a year of separation from my husband. No chance of reconciliation exists. He has chosen another path. A dark path. He has become a stranger to me. He's stolen from me [yeah, cleaned out my bank account, days before rent day!], and then told me prefers living on the street, where he gets robbed, than 'get fleeced by [me]' ... and he constantly insinuates that i am faking this depression and mental illness stuff. Yes, I do not know this person. And ... he does not know me. Irregardless, I forgive him. And, when he appears at my door, seeking food, I always share what I have. That's turning the cheek, ain't it? And, FUCK, it's DIFFICULT!

I have overlooked myself in favour of others for far too long, now. Its time for me to look after me. I have felt suicidal for the past 2 years. No kidding. My doc diagnosed me with Bipolar disorder. And, until very recently, I have suffered so from sleep deprivation. I had no idea what a solid 8 hours of sleep felt like ... really. The Seroquel works ~ within 30 minutes of taking it, I am passed out, sleeping. I take care, now. I monitor ~ what surrounds me, what enters me, what passes through me. I avoid the drama of others. I feel easily overwhelmed. I remind myself feelings demand me to feel them, and not fight them. My disappointment at how Martin has turned out has devastated me ... I fantasized about self-harm quite a bit over the past week. My meatspace friends, thankfully, will not leave me to my own devices ... they challenge me to forge ahead. Joy defines pain and pain defines joy.



Only the dead fish always swim with the current.

the One?

In the wake of Obama's presidential victory I find myself thinking of my old friend Neo and The Matrix. Neo lives in the illusory world of the Matrix. Ahhh, The Matrix ~ a construct of reality developed by the machines which have come to earth to enslave humanity and harvest humans as a source of bio-electric energy. A few humans in this dark world have awareness of their status quo. They exist unplugged from the illusory world upon which many others rely for survival. Legend has it that a human ~ known as 'The One' ~ will end the enslavement of humanity, thus delivering his people to freedom. Neo discovers his identity as this messianic figure. And ... well, the story unfolds.



Now, let's talk about reality. Segregation ... the American South ... the persecution of black people. Forty years ago we mourned the loss of a great man, an inspiring leader. That great man had a dream ~ a dream he believed America would realize ... he had such faith ~ he saw the promised land. Alas, like Moses, MLK did not live to witness that historic moment when his people received their deliverance. It deeply moved me to see Jesse Jackson in the crowd, awaiting Obama's arrival and speech. Why? Because that man, one of many who witnessed Obama became president-elect, also witnessed MLK's assassination. And this, for me, epitomizes the greatness of this achievement.

Has Jesse Jackson come full circle? Have we come full circle? Has Obama delivered his people to their promised land? We have made Obama our Neo ~ a messianic figure that will save us all. Let's remember tho ~ he's no Wizard ... he is but one simple human. And we have placed the burden of our hopes and despairs on his slender shoulders. Can one human carry this heavy cross? And ... I wonder ... can we?. Are we really unplugged enough from the system to really work toward changing it?

about a dream ...

I found this image the most powerful image of the whole evening.
Why? For me, it epitomizes the profound shift
which fueled a most historic and breath-taking moment.
Recall, if you will, that the man in the image stood beside MLK
when James Earl Ray fired that fateful shot.
How far have you come, America?

the nature of water

i am water ~
flowing to the lowest places,
sometimes stormy,
sometimes bottomless,
mostly, though ~
taking the shape of my surroundings.


Wolf of Water by ~yuumei on deviantART

... a strange pain inside ... ?

imagine if, when you started your car each morning, it would either rev up really high, just racing, racing ... or not start at all. in each case, you'd find it impossible to use this car to transport yourself reliably to your destination, wouldn't you? such a car seems non-functional, really.

well, if you can imagine ... that's what bipolar feels like ~ no baseline, just red-lining it, or inert. confusion, and cloudiness, linger. can i really, objectively, analyze the workings of my own mind and its chemistry? there's the rub.

somehow creative genius and madness seem to hold hands, in some dark shadows of existence. does the force of creative genius create a strange pain inside ... leading the individual to madness? or maybe creative genius and madness exist as siamese twins, inseparable ... fused to one another?

	Nirvana - Lithium
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

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happiness - a choice or a destination?

	Gerry Rafferty - Baker Street
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

a dear friend
- a very wise, dear friend -
said to me one evening,
'happiness is a choice.'
i pondered this statement a while.
it seems to me
that so many of us live our lives
as though an ultimate destination or nirvana
will appear before us in a cloak of happiness.
do we suffer through the purgatory,
the protestant work ethic, and the bondage
of a profit-driven, capitalist society
in exchange for the grand prize of 'happiness' ... ?
or do we create our own
trickles and droplets of happiness,
which eventually pool into some cool-running stream
and flows through our existence?
try something. mindfulness - awareness.
savour the small details
over which you normally gloss.

how do you see happiness?
a choice?
a destination?