Tinkerbell's Tea Party ~ [Vol. 1]

Follow me

2009-07-07T19:35:00.000-07:00

Please find me here these days ... Tea Party taking on a 2nd Volume ~ so follow me there, ok?

Say Hallo

2009-06-17T12:03:00.000-07:00

I feel the need to put the Tea Party on a sabbatical.

Don't worry, tho' I will still be blogging, and here's where you can find me these days.

A Meme

2009-06-12T20:21:00.000-07:00

What is your current obsession?

Flowers ~ and taking macro shots of them ~ a la Georgia O'Keefe.

What is your wierdest obsession?

At one time I used to collect all the hair from my white afghan hound ... I'd instructed his groomer to save all the hair from grooming sessions because one day I planned to have the hair processed/spun into wool and then knitted into some sort of scarf or whatever.

What are you wearing today?

A ecru-coloured cotton short-sleeved top, yoga-style capri pants, white socks and whte sneakers. My feet are hot. I'm going to take off my socks and shoes. Bare feet, all the way!

What's for dinner?

A glass of Coca Cola and I dunno what else. I am an eccentric eater, I often take dinner quite late or sometimes not at all.

What would you eat for your last meal?

Deep-fried brie and cranberry sauce ... those biscuits from Red Lobster with Beef Tenderloin cooked medium and a peppercorn gravy/sauce and horseradish and mashed potatoes with nutmeg and a caesar salad sans croutons ... a shot of sambuca and a piece of warm chocolate cake, drizzled with hot chocolate sauce and two scoops of real vanilla ice cream.

What is the last thing you bought?

Some cool postcards designed with my own photographs from QOOP.

What are you listening to right now?

The song of starlings, echoes from the upstairs neighbour's no-so-tasteful music choices, the swoosh of the tower fan in the bedroom, the creak of the ceiling as the upstairs neighbours walk around. My cat playing with her bell toy.

If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished, anywhere in the world, where would you like it to be?

In Italy, in some Tuscan village.

If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?

To the top of the Rock of Gibraltar to see the Barbery Apes.

What language do you want to learn?

The language of the human heart and soul.

What's your favorite quote (for now)?

"On your bike."

What is your favourite colour?

Cotton Candy, Strawberry Milkshare, Bubblegum PINK!

What is your favourite piece of clothing in your own wardrobe?

Do my comfy old rabbit-fur lined mocassin slippers count? Cos that's what my favourite is.

What is your dream job?

1. Head Designer of my own Graphic Design Firm; 2. Self-sustaining independent Photographer, (Web) Designer; 3. A published fiction author.

What your favourite tree?

Japanese Cherry Tree ~ any variety ... particularly the Kanzan or Pink Perfection.

What are you going to do after this?

Have a steaming hot shower.

What inspires you?

Nature ~ particularly flowers and birds; Georgia O'Keefe; awesome photography; pink and purple sunsets; a certain Pilot.

What are your favourite books?

All time favourites ~ as a child it was a particular Cinderella book with the most beautiful art work in it; as an adult it's A Time Traveller's Wife.

What are you currently reading?

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.

Go to your bookshelf, take down the first book with a red spine you see, turn to page 26 and type out the first sentence:

Enormously irritating to me and my torturers of course, but, you know, credit where credit's due and all that.

What delighted you the most today?

Receiving meatspace feedback from my photo notecards.

By what criteria do you judge a person?

1. Manners; 2. Honesty ~ ie do they keep their word; 3. Sense of timing ~ ie are they always late (grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr ~ HATE that!).

Are you artistic or crafty?

Yes and yes.

My added question: do you have an innie or an outtie (belly button)?

Innie.

The rules: Respond and rework: answer the questions on your blog, replace one question with a question of your own. Tag eight other people. And of course, as all tags go, you may choose to ignore this request. Play if you like.

The Beauty of Broken Things

2009-06-09T11:29:00.000-07:00

Broken lines,

couched in jagged curves;

a jetstream of white light,

a splash of grey shadow ~

all reflections of

my monotonous heart.

She thirsts for you,

feels parched in your absence.

Missing the fluid velvet

of your touch,

of your taste ~

reflecting,

upon the beauty of broken things.

Photo Credit: DeviantArt

Poetry: Roxanne Galpin

The Matrix, Thomas Merton, and Cosmic Christ

2009-06-07T23:38:00.000-07:00

I stumbled upon that movie The Matrix, while channel surfing after my three-hour night's sleep. I've seen it several times of course, but it's one of the few films I can watch again and again. Each time I do see it, I sense yet another facet of the incredible spiritual and philisophical metaphor of the story. Essentially the film depicts the planet earth in the late 22nd century, where Holocaust has come to describe the enslavement of humans by machines, who have invaded Earth to harvest human beings as energy sources. The machines keep humans, naked and sleeping, in gel-filled pods, which connects to them through tubes and hoses.

The vast majority of humans, however, remain oblivious to the ugly truth, living instead within a virtual simulation of the late 20th century which the machines have created to oppress the people and keep them unaware. A few humans have become 'unplugged' and work toward liberating their race. They call themselves Zionists, and they await the prophesied coming of a chosen one ~ a man who can move through and transcend the matrix. Neo has always sensed something strange about the world he sees. He seeks to know the mysterious thing called the matrix. He finds out. He reacts with incredulity and disbelief when told he is the chosen one.

As I watched Neo's very traumatic awakening into the ugliness of the true world from the false reality of the matrix, and deliverance from his pod to the Zionist hovercraft, I could not help thinking of the similarity to birth and death, as we know it. I pondered birth and death (both of which I have witnessed, by the way) and then, suddenly these seemed ~ on a cosmic plane ~ like the same transformation of a Self. You may disagree, because of your perception of birth as a gain, and death as a loss.

But, I'm not thinking of from the crude material perspective. I'm considering it from the cosmic, spritual perspective. Ponder, for a moment. Physical birth ~ arriving into this worldly existence by passing through tiny a visceral canal. And then death ~ I imagine it as travelling from this worldly existence by passing through a spiritual or cosmic canal. This only occurred to me when watching the visual of Neo's awakening. Did Neo's awakening mean his birth, or his death? Both, I believe.

At a later point in the film, Trinity (one of the Zionists) says to Neo, “the Matrix cannot tell you who you are.” Aha! That's a differentiation to make, isn't it? Do we feel satisfied sufficiently with the fact of our material existence? Don't we also need meaning to illuminate the painting of our existence? I pondered this question two years ago, in a post I wrote about The Matrix. However, just today, during this recent viewing, something resonated within me. Something that I felt when I read the following, which I received via email in today's daily meditation, written by Richard Rohr.

The historical figure, Jesus of Nazareth, moved beyond any confinement in space and time and became Light Itself, which we now know from astrophysics is omnipresent in the universe and its speed is the ultimate measure of all things. ... One could even say that in Christ, God and Light have become the same. And nobody on this earth can control the light. It goes where it goes— instantaneously.

So, the Matrix, being the contrived, material world, cannot tell us 'who we are.' Then, perhaps we find out through the light of God? Does the flat, obscure and meaningless painting of our existence become transformed through Christ? Yes, because our true meaning of Self lies in the fact that God created each of us, for a purpose. In his book, New Seeds of Contemplation, Thomas Merton writes that faith provides a vehicle through which we can fully possess God, who fills us with His infinite Light. "God Himself becomes the Light of the darkened soul ... And at this inexplicable moment the deepest night becomes day ..." Merton also writes, "I must learn to 'leave myself' in order to find myself by yielding to the love of God." Death and birth point to the same transformative process, don't they?

[Photos taken by me, May 2009]

A Prayer For Us All

2009-05-26T00:02:00.000-07:00

I used a picture taken by a dear friend of mine [who wishes to receive credit only as public domain] as the inspiration for this piece. This photo ~taken in Vancouver's Downtown East Side ~ really depicts a piece of graffiti with an wonderful sentiment. Keep us safe and sound. Made by me using GIMP, brushes courtesy of Obsidian Dawn. Click the image for full-size view.

Knocking on Heaven's Door?

2009-05-25T16:01:00.000-07:00

I find myself at a loss for words these past few days.

When this happens, I let the images speak for me.

an image manipulation made by me in GIMP

New Moon in May

2009-05-24T00:44:00.000-07:00

Image by ftourini [deviantART]

This month's new moon encourages us to transcend the fog of information, and its inherent conflicts, and to rise above the crumbling structures of present-day reality. As the unilluminated side of the moon faces earth, we find that we can derive different meanings from the stories occuring around us, depending on the lense through which we look. It's a good time to change our minds, to increase our mental flexibility, to liberate ourselves from our oppressive monkey minds. Stop thinking and just be!

If we focus on balance, on synchronicity, and on the human element we can reduce or eliminate our anxiety about not knowing what will happen next. This month, focus on rising above the minutia of daily material existence, toward the person, toward dignity, toward compassion. Free yourself from stuff-ism, from sinking into the small stuff, and/or from judgement: by giving, by sharing, by understanding ~ through gratitude and humility.

2009-05-23T00:22:00.000-07:00

Fears ~ What are they?

2009-05-21T18:06:00.000-07:00

Photo taken by me in SW England, 2008

False
Expectations
Appear
Real

The underlying foundations of a weak self-image and self-concept ~ they keep us from fully asserting ourselves, and hinder our quest of self-actualization.
Inhibitors, emotional blocks, unconscious messages, uncovered elements of our psychological make up ~ they result in our resistance, hesitation and/or unwillingness to participate in nurturing and healing activities.
Excuses we hide behind to avoid growth or change
Irrational beliefs
Negative self-scripts we have given ourselves or that were given us about how we will suffer dire consequences if we involve ourselves in certain activities or behaviours.

Fears have plagued me, of late. Silly, ridiculous fears which create inertia and stagnation. So much opportunity lies at my feet, I just need to grab hold and plant myself there! But there's that old fear of crossing that bridge which spans the ravine. I have tried to tell myself every excuse why I should refrain from reinstating my RN license ... and return to work part-time in my beloved profession. None of these excuses stands up under scrutiny. I have skill, I have passion and patience. I know that I was a great nurse, and can be that again. You can take the girl out of the nurse, but you can't take the nurse out of the girl. I have heard whispers of the universe telling me to take that leap, swallow the fear, embrace opportunity and growth.

And, so I will take heed.

"Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood."

~Marie Curie

**Note to Readers ~ On a topic entirely unrelated to this post ... Please take the time to visit my friend Mayden's Blog and read her latest post. It's beautiful and divinely written.**

Your Assignment by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

2009-05-20T20:48:00.000-07:00

I assign you to be a beautiful, good, kind, awakened, soulful person, a true work of art as we say, ser humano, a true human being. In a world filled with so much darkness, such a soul shines like gold; can be seen from a far distance; is dramatically different.

Want to help? Show your deepest most divine self to the world. There is nothing more rare, more strange, more needed. Why would you wait? Not worthy? Oh piffle. Not ready? Okay, so when? Next lifetime? Don't be silly with me about this. Inferiority complex? Okay, let me put it this way to you: you're not good enough to think you're not good enough. And you can
quote me to yourself whenever you have need... Dr. Estes said so.

Have you forgotten that you made promises to your Beloved before you ever came to earth? The time to fulfill these is truly now. You want to cease feeling helpless, and you want to help the aching world? Serve someone and something. Everyone on earth serves someone and something. This means being your truest self now, fulfilling the promises you made to heaven long ago.

Anything you do from the soulful self will help lighten the burdens of the world. Anything. You have no idea what the smallest word, the tiniest generosity can cause to be set in motion. Be outrageous in forgiving. Be dramatic in reconciling. Mistakes? Back up and make them as right as you can, then move on. Be off the charts in kindness. In whatever you are called to, strive to be devoted to it in all aspects large and small. Fall short? Try again. Mastery is made in increments, not in leaps. Be brave, be fierce, be visionary. Mend the parts of the world that are "within your reach." To strive to live this way is the most dramatic gift you can ever give to the world.

Consider yourselves assigned.

The restless uneasiness in my heart dissipated when I read this passage, which I found while blog surfing. It applies every moment. It's what I need, in order to survive and thrive the monumental changes that loom in my not-too-distance future.

Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for my Higher Self

2009-05-19T23:47:00.000-07:00

This week's Wish Prompt ~ What does your highest self wish for?

My highest self wishes to express itself more fully.

It wishes to follow the light, and transcend my ego.

It wishes to continue capturing and sharing

the joy and beauty of the world around me.

It wishes to completely embrace forgiveness and tolerance.

It wishes to embrace patience more fully.

My higher self wishes to share with others knowledge and compassion,

empowerment and healing.

Photo ~ taken by me, grounds of VAG

Anger and the Art of Healing

2009-05-19T23:22:00.000-07:00

Acceptance begins with acceptance of the feelings of grief. That means letting them flow through you ~ finding the resolve to make your cross lighter to carry. ... Dig underneath. Go gently, but do go deeper. What's there? Where does it belong?

In response to a previous post on depression and healing, Blisschick commented, I think that it's important that we allow our anger, though, especially at the beginning of healing. Yes, we must acknowledge anger. But, we must take care what we do with this anger. Thoughts of revenge, restitution, or desires to spread the misery serve no purpose, and in fact poison our healing quest. Acting out of anger, making decisions rooted in anger, projecting your anger onto others all thwart the healing process, which aims at restoring equilibrium.

I struggled terribly against becoming my emotions. Anger, included. At the height of my anger, I would feel alomst possessed by it. Revenge became a form of emotional self-gratification for me. As though deliberately bring suffering unto someone else would reduce or eliminate my own! When I began accepting that the particular offense occured, and that stewing about it would not advance my emotional cause, anger no longer possessed me.

Providing no resistance to the feeling flowing through me ~ observing it, only ~ also made a huge difference. I find I get angry far less now, that I make a point of trying to consider the offending situation from all perspectives, ie beyond my own. This removes the inclination to judge or lay blame. It turns the focus back to me ~ What's there? Where does it belong?

Two internal actions that I engage in, to avoid becoming my intense anger or grief:
1. Acceptance of reality ~ ie the end of a relationship, death, abuse. Placing focus on responding to the new reality, as opposed to its existence.
2. Taking on only the emotional baggage that belongs to me ~ ie. if one family member chooses against attending a family gathering because of my presence, well, that's their problem, not mine.

Nothing but compassionate attention and time can alleviate the pain of anger. And humility ~ which enables us to accept, and remember that what we think we want does not always provide us what we need.

Victoria Day and Thoughts of Love

2009-05-18T04:52:00.000-07:00

My English Mosaic ~ all pictures taken by me in SW England last year

It's Victoria Day here in Canada. Since England has dominated my thoughts of late, it seems appropriate to share some of the photographs I took there, last year. It's a lovely place ~ picturesque, with lots of character and history. Someone I love dearly lives there, and I hope to return--.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.”

“One day You will take my heart completely and make it more fiery than a dragon. Your eyelashes will write on my heart the poem that could never come from the pen of a poet.”

~Rumi

Enjoy your week. I will continue writing about depression, because I have far more to add to my previous post. Writing 50-word stories has absorbed much of my attention of late. Check them out ~ they have their own blog, link to which appears at the top of this page.

Depression and the Art of Healing

2009-05-16T15:54:00.000-07:00

What does depression feel like?
Years ago, when I asked my sister, who's suffered depression episodes that sent her to the crisis unit, what depression felt like to her, she answered, It feels like I'm in the pits of hell. To me, it doesn't feel like I'm in the pits of hell, it feels like I am the pits of hell. The grief demon possesses me, I become his prisoner. At some point, destroying myself seems like a way to survive the anguish. In a nutshell, that's my experience of depression.

Now, let's move on. Think about healing.

What does healing look and feel like? How do we achieve it?

Healing is not a process through which we seek validation or approval for our grief. It's not what we do to make ourselves feel better about feeling lousy. It's about attending to the grief and loss we feel ~ embracing it. Never mind if its right or wrong to feel what you feel. Just feel. And have compassion and patience with yourself as you stay present with your feelings.

Pain occurs to alert us to some sort of disequilibrium. It's meant to spur us to seek healing. Healing requires me to change my perspective, to engage. I'm not a shattered glass that requires piecing together. I am a walking wounded, in need of emotional and spiritual debridement. I must debride my wounds, the scar tissue of which, stifles and starves my growth and renewal. Things have happened to me to get me to this point, and so I must happen to things in order to forge ahead into the light.

Healing teaches us why we feel the way we do, and we learn healthy responses to those feelings that help us restore equilibrium. Resisting pain increases its intensity. Think of the skier tumbling down the slope ~ using muscle tension to resist the fall increases the severity of injuries sustained in said fall. Acceptance begins with acceptance of the feelings of grief. That means letting them flow through you ~ finding the resolve to make your cross lighter to carry.

At this point it has nothing to do with who or what gave you this cross, or with any notion of restitution for your suffering. It has only to do with self care ~ what must you do to remain present to your grief without feeling swallowed whole? Don't deny yourself. Be kind to yourself. Don't pity yourself. Feel. Be. Stay. You are your most crucial witness. Do not spread your misery around for self-gratification. Remember debridement ~ we must remove necrotic tissue from the wound, or the limb will eventually die from ischemia. Despair must never triumph! Find grace. Be grace.

Dig underneath. Go gently, but do go deeper. What's there? Where does it belong?

Winged Night Hope

2009-05-14T17:57:00.000-07:00

**FYI ~ I moved all of the 50-word story posts to their own blog.**

Winged night flight,

breath-taking and bold.

I shiver, in the darkness,

witness

to a preternatural sight,

shimmering,

in the light of

a gilded harvest moon.

A golden gossamer dream

sweeps swiftly

across an indigo sky;

Gripping hope

in her tightly curled talons.

Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for Connection

2009-05-12T22:56:00.000-07:00

This week's Wish Prompt ~ What do You Wish to Connect to?

I wish to connect to my Self, in my quest to just BE.
I wish to connect to what lurks within my heart, beneath the cobwebs of apprehension and doubt.
I wish to connect to my surroundings through my daily photography project.
I wish to connect to bliss, to humility and to forgiveness.
I wish to connect to humanity ~ to the collective human soul and spirit.
I wish to connect to the creative endeavours which I've begun.

I wish to connect to discipline, particularly in times of chaos and vulnerability.
I wish to connect to my parents, in ways I've yet to connect. As they age, I find myself reaching more and more for a connection with them that will transcend the finite, physical world.
I wish to connect more with Mum & Dad on the phone ~ I do miss my long talks with mummy.
I wish to continue my wonderful connection with my cat, Miss Meow. She's truly a healer for my spirit.
I wish ~ my heart wishes ~ to connect to the heart of a certain Pilot.
I wish to connect more fully to my marriage, and the partner with which I share this marriage skin.

[PSSSsst ~ I've started a 50-word story blog]

Guardian of The Threshold ~ Invitation to Poetry # 35

2009-05-12T16:35:00.000-07:00

Every so often, Abbey of the Arts hosts a poetry invitation. She posts a picture and a theme and invites anyone to respond with poems, reflections, prose. Check the icon for more info. Read my submission below.

~ Note: I've chosen another picture, rather than use the picture Christine provided in her 35th poetry invitation. ~

Broken dreams of my ego

lay strewn at her feet ~

heaps of salt in the desert.

Encouraging Bliss ~ Protecting My Bliss from Erosion

2009-05-09T20:05:00.000-07:00

This week Blisschick asked her readers to reflect upon those times in the recent past when " ... [you found] yourself not respecting your boundaries, not living from your integrity, not following your bliss."

I took a walk to reflect on what I wanted for this post. I found myself thinking about My 21 Commandments, and how they strengthen my resolve during those times when I feel particularly weak. I realized that the times when I strayed beyond my boundaries, and away from integrity and bliss really constitute a violation of one of my own personal commandments. In retrospect it's sort of like I mortgaged the process of true bliss for a taste of self-gratification. As though I could borrow from my integrity and bliss for an escape to the numbing realm of self-gratification.

I've failed to realize, of course, that each time I substitute self-gratification for true bliss, I send myself further off course ~ further into the abyss of the dark, sunless wood. Why does self-gratification masquerade itself as true bliss? Or, more realistically, what, about my vision lends me to see, in a fleeting impulsive moment, self-gratification as true bliss? And what's hidden beneath that fear I feel, when I contemplate choosing against some destructive forms of self-gratification?

When I have strength to resist completely, I find that if I can keep the endurance to deny my ego for the first day or two, if I press through that feeling of unease, the feeling of hunger and fear leaves my spirit. But, during this time I find myself tenderly vulnerable to temptation. To the point where I lie to my Self, saying, Just this once. I won't get carried away.

"Ahhhhh, Roxanne. You don't believe that. do you? Take courage to Be."

About two years ago, I reflected up the struggle to battle my ego's avarice for extreme, destructive gratification. I wrote a piece about a doe,* and her experiences with a coyote predator, as the hunted, and sometimes the hunter. At the end of the piece a wise, unseen voice tells the doe that the chase will stop when she stops running. I suppose that's a lesson for me. Let go ... surrender to acceptance ... empty myself in the gift of clarity, offered to all who open themselves to receive and feel absorbed into it.

* As I wrote this post 2 years ago, it does need some refinement. I plan to edit this post and repost it in the near future.

Full Moon Dreamers ~ May Flower Moon

2009-05-09T07:05:00.000-07:00

I spotted May's full moon late Friday night. It hung in the sky, between the trees, like a silvery orb. As I stood in my driveway, in front of my tripod and gazing at the moon through my camera's lense, I could just feel her vibrant energy.

She did indeed appear to blossom in the night sky, casting a lovely glow on the blossom petals which carpeted the earth. In the distance, I spot a sea of blossom petals on the ground; each petal, a droplet which nature has released to make way for the sweet fruits of summer.

I wish to cultivate more compassion and grace in my heart.
I wish to capture the magic and flavour of each moment, the serenity and spirit of my surroundings, the colour and character of each day and bottle these for later use.
I wish to nurture and grow the seeds of inspiration that have germinated inside me.
I wish for my current creative endeavours to continue bearing fruit.
I wish for love, patience, acceptance, grace and humility to blossom within my heart and soul.

... I Shall Drink it and Always Be Full

2009-05-07T21:01:00.000-07:00

Once upon a midnight drearie
I woke with something in my head
I couldn't escape the memory
Of a phone call and of what you said
Like a game show contestant with a parting gift
I could not believe my eyes
When I saw through the voice of a trusted friend
Who needs to humour me and tell me lies
Yeah humour me and tell me lies
And I'll lie too and say I don't mind
And as we seek so shall we find
And when you're feeling open I'll still be here
But not without a certain degree of fear
Of what will be with you and me
I still can see things hopefully

[refrain]
But you
Why you wanna give me a run-around
Is it a sure-fire way to speed things up
When all it does is slow me down

And shake me and my confidence
About a great many things
But I've been there I can see it cower
Like a nervous magician waiting in the wings
Of a bad play where the heroes are right
And nobody thinks or expects too much
And Hollywood's calling for the movie rights
Singing hey babe let's keep in touch
Hey baby let's keep in touch
But I want more than a touch I want you to reach me
And show me all the things no one else can see
So what you feel becomes mine as well
And soon if we're lucky we'd be unable to tell
What's yours and mine the fishing's fine
And it doesn't have to rhyme so don't you feed me a line

[refrain]

Tra la la la la bomba dear this is the pilot speaking
And I've got some news for you
It seems my ship still stands no matter what you drop
And there ain't a whole lot that you can do
Oh sure the banner may be torn and the wind's gotten colder
Perhaps I've grown a little cynical
But I know no matter what the waitress brings
I shall drink in and always be full
My cup shall always be full

Oh I like coffee
And I like tea
I'd like to be able to enter a final plea
I still got this dream that you just can't shake
I love you to the point you can no longer take
Well all right okay
So be that way
I hope and pray
That there's something left to say

[refrain] x 2

~ Blues Traveller

AHHHH ~ Classical Gas

2009-05-07T12:35:00.000-07:00

~take a listen to an awesome piece of music!~

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Requiem for a Sunflower

2009-05-04T22:46:00.000-07:00

Withered, weary

leaves begin melting

into autumn's embrace;

shoulders drooped,

heavy head now stooped,

she releases her petals,

they descend ~ floating

above an icy morning mist.

Her seeds extricate themselves

from their cloister.

Her crumpled and golden chalice,

now fully emptied.

Oh, poverty, what bliss!

photo: Christine Valter Paintner

poetry: Roxanne Galpin

On Being Roxanne

2009-05-02T06:04:00.000-07:00

I have 465 published posts in this blog. These posts date back to January 2006, when I first began blogging. Those who have stuck with me since those early days will know what a restless creature I am, in trying to forge my Self. I started out as graffitti artist, then became whispering forest nymph, then mad malva blue, then velvet acid tongue or velvet acid explosion, then the pink reefer, then the red mantissa, then frizzy scissorhands, then wulfine, and now ... now I have come home. I am me ~ Roxanne Galpin, aka tinkerbell the bipolar faerie. I post my picture, my full name, and my geographic location. Why not? What have I to hide? Nothing, as in transparent. That's why I am home. No longer do I conjure up an image of some person that I wish I was. I can now just Be Roxanne. What bliss! My H-Factor rises.

One of my favourite bloggers from those early days left me this comment a few weeks ago ~ ”how come you keep reinventing yourself????????????? be content with one blog name; one avatar; one message!!!!” Well put, Ardlair. My response to him? “We are many.”

I have felt like an onion these past few years. Continuously peeling away a layer, only to find another one, obscuring this thing, this treasure, I seek. And so, I have expended much time and energy and effort peeling away a layer, existing within that layer for a time, and then peeling it back, and repeating the same cycle over again.

Each time, I’ve gotten closer to the truth. Each time, I’ve come closer to realizing the truth ~ ... Read the entire post.

[Cross-posted from H-Factor Chronicles.]

Rumpled Sheets

2009-05-01T21:39:00.000-07:00

On the wings of veiled dreams

I glide into a new day.

Sunlight, streams through

pregnant apple blossoms,

dancing.

Golden shafts of light
flutter upon

these rumpled sheets

that held us,

together

through a stormy and ebony night ~

our amniotic sac,

the colour of golden wheat,

and scented with the sweet, earthiness

of life forged in eksatis.

Photo Credit: Christine Valters Paintner

Poetry Credit: Roxanne Galpin

Encouraging Bliss ~ My Secret Forest

2009-04-30T17:38:00.000-07:00

Artwork of Suzanne Geyseman

[click on the mosaic for the full view]

BlissChick asked us almost a week ago to revisit our happy places ~ a cozy little nook, an enchanted garden, a secret and sacred retreat. Here's a place I fall into, when I need to soothe myself. Bramblemoth Brae ~ the place that forges creation, the place that gives birth to secrets, and cradles them tightly, never letting them go astray. Friendly dragons play there. Hidden gnomes lurk about, shepherding the forest. Faeries frolick, dance and giggle, gathering stardust in their wings. Its a place teaming with spirit, gentle vibrancy, and verdant lushness. And love. It's a place whose purity chokes out those shadowy things that fester ~ such as grudges, vengence, intolerance and fear .

When you enter, you'll hear a gentle hush of enchanted sounds that merge to create the most wondrous symphony. Astral matter coalesces, here, into delicate wings, cascading golden and copper locks, flowing gossamer cloaks, and a sleek, streamlined, supernatural beauty. Bring as many secrets as your heart can carry ~ no one will take them from you. Truth shimmers here, iridescent and opaline, like wisps of pure light. Follow the moonbeams in your dreams, and look for a candle light encased in stone. You will hear a voice calling through the grass and sleepy dew. Then you know you have come home. Welcome.

Poetry Invitation # 34 :: Honouring the Gift of Earth

2009-04-28T00:40:00.000-07:00

Every so often, Abbey of the Arts hosts a poetry invitation. She posts a picture and a theme and invites anyone to respond with poems, reflections, prose. Check the icon for more info. Read my submission below.

~ Note: I've chosen a picture of my own, rather than use the picture Christine provided in her 34th poetry invitation. ~

Fingerprints

Magnolia ~

She whispers in her silence,

beckons me, closer.

And I, in my darkness,

feel her light

wrap its arms around me.

Looking deep into her heart

I see a reflection

of deep wisdom.

Magnolia ~

She whispers in her silence,

I am but a fingerprint of God.

As are you.

Lovers ~ The Embrace

2009-04-25T21:59:00.000-07:00

~I'm sick, again! Grrrrr. So here I go, once more, with the Vicks Vapo-Rub, my Ventolin rescuer inhaler, many hot, steamy showers, and more blankets. And, oh yeah, lots of juice to drink. I'm beginning work on my book. Hugs to you all.~

VIOLET

You surround yourself with art and music and are constantly driven to express yourself. You often daydream. You prefer honesty in your relationships and believe strongly in your personal morals.

Find out your color at QuizMeme.com!

[I found this little quiz while blog surfing; I love colour ... so had fun with this.]

What I'm Thinking, Reading Writing

2009-04-22T21:29:00.000-07:00

On my Mind & Conscience ...
I've had a little period of silence, here on the Tea Party, My last real post, about BlissChick's 100-Day Dare, has weighed in my heart. Late last week, just thinking about making the particular change I had in mind when I wrote that post, made my heart a little sick. The many commenters to that post gave such encouragement, but I fear that I am weaker than any of you think. Alas, a work-in-progress am I. And, so I take the tiny steps, only considering the one I'm taking, and not the ones that lie ahead. [Assuming today is day 1, then day 100 happens on July 31st.] I've spent some time grieving someone who has estranged himself from me in many ways, but who contacts me from time to time. Just a little taste, to remind me of the sweet flavour, and then great famine for an unknown while. On a more practical front, I have an appointment scheduled next week that may eventually lead me back work, part-time.

white blossom ~ DTES Vancouver

On the Bookshelf ...
Thomas Merton continues to lead me into contemplation with and about God in New Seeds of Contemplation. I've continued to plod slowly, but surely, through Karen Armostrong's The Bible: A Biography. And, of course, Eckhart Tolle's Now sits nearby; I read Tolle in spurts, then take some time to digest what I've read. I also have Susan Haskin's Mary Magdalen: The Essential History in the pile, beckoning me to open it. And, once in a while I flip through the $5 used copy of C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity, which sits on my nightstand, atop my dictionary-thesaurus and beside my lamp. I have read Thich Naht Hanh's book about true love, a really quick and easy read one Sunday afternoon. That same afternoon, I read a lovely book about angels, their history, presence in different cultures, and the angel hierarchy. The next fiction book I'll likely read is the second book in the Stephanie Meyers series.

white blossom ~ East Vancouver

On the Writing Table ...

I watched The Matrix again, and it inspired me to write yet another post about the metaphors and symbolism in that movie. I've nearly finished the post. I just had to leave it for awhile, before concluding it. I've written several poems lately, inspired by Abbey of the Arts' Poetry Invitations. I've so far only posted 2. I'll post more as the time seems right. I've been pondering and considering my book of late. Some stability has seized the waters of my life, leaving just enough friction to keep fueling creativity and endurance of that creativity. I have to start disciplining myself, schedule some time out of each week, each day, to work on the book. I suppose I have stalled a little because parts of the story felt too painful to relive just yet. Also, at times, I feel as though perhaps the story has not ended yet. In my heart.

mosaic heart ~ DTES Vancouver

Sacred Life Sunday ~ Gilded Freedom (a poem)

2009-04-19T07:07:00.000-07:00

A crimson heart ~

sweet as nectar,

and a scarlet, burning ember

too deep to fathom ~

love, pure, fresh love

cleaves him to her.

He opens the gilded cage,

watching, awestruck

and with baited breath.

Apprehensive, her wings unfurl,

She flutters, then sails away

on the gentlest stream of

a breeze.

Shimmering,

she returns

to the gilded cage

and sees Him there,

waiting.

Her wings,

beating

in time with her heart.

Her heart,

beating

in time with His.

image credit: google, public domain

poetry: copyright Roxanne Galpin

Inspired by and dedicated to Martin, who showed me that I do have wings, that they can carry me, and that I can fly on my own. He showed me this through the anguish of his love, which gave him the strength to hold the cage open for me to fly out. Of course, I flew back into the cage to my husband, a man who understands that loving me requires giving me alot of space.

Encouraging Bliss:: Twilight Reflections

2009-04-17T06:31:00.000-07:00

It's the middle of the night. I'm sitting in bed, under the covers with my laptop. Somehow, the bed feels larger. Perhaps, that's because I feel much smaller, tonight, than I did this morning. Dear Reader, you cannot imagine how small I feel. My shame lingers in the spaces between words spoken; it stagnates, like the smell of something burning. I find it a challenge to examine my rather large and foolish error without judgement. Foolish ~ too harsh a word, maybe? Alternatives? Ill-Considered. Careless. Naive, even.

[Photo ~ taken on a sunny day here, in Vancouver a week ago]

It seems pointless to persecute myself. It seems purposeful and wise, though, to really take to heart and mind what I need to do, and gaze at it through the prism of wreckless, wanton desire (the force that fuels my error). I see, more clearly, the painful struggle one endures in the quest for Self ~ the self I think I want to be vs. the self God created me to be. The Wannabe seeks comfort by filling herself. The True Self seeks comfort in acceptance and through emptying herself.

I must begin to empty a particular falseness. Its a falseness that coats the Wannabe (entraps her, really) like a poisonous membrane. She must no longer fill herself with poison. She must purge. It feels like I must release my grip from the edge and fall freely away from the known precipice, toward the unknown, without fear or tension. When I let go, I will liberate myself. When I let go, my wings will carry me; I will feel such joy and peace ... and BLISS. Do I have the courage to follow the obscured and jagged trail that leads to the light?

Empty Chair

2009-04-16T16:33:00.000-07:00

Golden thoughts of you

sail

on a hush

of the languid tide

in my restless, sepia heart.

The stark solitude of

your empty chair

screams ~

your absence, lamented.

Yet, I feel you ~

tendrils of your spirit

flutter,

like the casings of dandelion seeds.

The grain of your existence,

has melted into mine,

has melted

into the very grain of

your empty chair.

image credit: DeviantART

poetry: copyright Roxanne Galpin

Poetry Invitation # 33 :: Practicing Resurrection

2009-04-15T01:00:00.000-07:00

Twilight Resurrection

Luminous,
dancing with a golden mirth

She skips across the sun-soaked beach,

splaying her toes, softly burrowing

into velvety sand, then splashing,
splashing ~ making iridescent ripples

in a silent and silvery sea
that seems to come from

beyond twilight

She sparkles in a dusky sunset,

appearing simultaneously

miniscule and monumental.

photo credit: Christine Valters Paintner
poetry: Roxanne Galpin

Good Friday ~ A Contemplation

2009-04-11T05:44:00.000-07:00

The Cross casts a dim shadow on this day. A shadow ~ absence of light ~ has a meaning only in the context of light and contrast. When I find myself in the shadow of an object, I know that light shines beyond this object. If the object had any degree of translucence, the light would shine through it, diminishing the shadow. I spent the afternoon and evening contemplating and considering this today. I longed to explore this train of thought, this seed of inspiration. A seed for a blog post, I thought, to express the fruits of my contemplations of Good Friday, beyond the plastic cliche He died for our sins.

I did an internet search. (Reading the thoughts and reflections of others helps me formulate my sometimes chaotic thoughts.) I waded through a unreflected sea of mindless scripture-regurgitation as well as some guilt-tripping, to get to a few thoughtful and contemplative pieces of writing about Good Friday. I intuitively have a sense that we just don't get it ~ the Passion of Christ seems so mysical ~ moreso than I'd ever realized in all those years of church-going. Each year I heard the same hollow words spewed out by those plastic church people. Words that mostly obscure the light of the mystical and often get confused for it. Plastic words that made my heart feel ill-at-ease. My heart silently begged to know. How can I know truth --- of the cross, of Good Friday --- in the Now? How can I transpose this truth into my self?

For so many centuries people have been spilling blood to get to God. But in the crucifixion it is reversed - God spills his own blood to reach out to us. This is to take away our old fear, that by spilling blood we try to appease an angry God. There is no such thing as an angry God - only an unconditionally loving God.
Richard Rohr, OFM

The crucifixion ~ a vision of Jesus mangled, bloodied, and dying ~ symbolizes the purest and most ultimate poverty [i.e. complete destruction of selfishness]. It's a divine act of selflessness, a shining sign of his divine nature. The light and love of God shine toward me, through the cross.

The cross, therefore, is always ready; it awaits you everywhere. No matter where you may go, you cannot escape it, for wherever you go you take yourself with you and shall always find yourself. Turn where you will -- above, below, without, or within -- you will find a cross in everything, and everywhere you must have patience if you would have peace within and merit an eternal crown.

If you carry the cross willingly, it will carry and lead you to the desired goal where indeed there shall be no more suffering, but h ere there shall be. If you carry it unwillingly, you create a burden for yourself and increase the load, though still you have to bear it. If you cast away one cross, you will find another and perhaps a heavier one.
~ Thomas a' Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, Book II, chapter 12

At one point in my online reading, I glanced upon a sentence that said something like, the human part of us sees death [in the cross], but the spirit in us sees love and life. I tucked that away in the recesses of my mind, for further contemplation. I contemplated. I read a little of Merton. I contemplated some more, silencing the din in my heart, and the loud shouting from my empty thoughts, in a hot, steamy shower. I considered so many things. I felt fluid, metaphorically speaking. And then it made sense to me.

Imagine a tragic analogy ~ a father takes a bullet for his son, thereby saving his son's life, but offering his own. Naturally the son will grieve the (perceived) loss (to himself) of his father. But, should he expend much effort feeling responsible, or guilty, for his father's death? Or should he silently cherish the knowledge that his father loved him, so much that he gave his life, willingly and with love?

Does he not diminish the greatness of this gesture, and possibly his father's love for him, if the son feels guilt and regret, in the wake of the father's death? Does the father feel anger, at having given his life to spare his son's life? Surely Not! The light and love of God shine to me, through the cross. If I consider the crucifixion in the construct of guilt and (self-directed) shame, do I not then diminish its divinity? And possibly the love that underlies the crucifixion? The crucifixion represents God's forgiveness of us all. Forgiveness = surrender. God surrenders to us through his Incarnation.

And then my heart travels to thoughts of Mary. As a mother, I think of her especially on Good Friday. I meditate upon her passivity, as a still and silent witness to her son's suffering. Mary dearly loved her human son, but she loved and honoured the glory of God more. She collaborated in our redemption. For me, Mary's sanctity lies in her immense sorrow, what St. Bernard called a martyrdom of the heart. With her purity of heart, she teaches us love, humility, faith and obedience. This leads me to think of God's will as a road map, and not a direction or a destination.

Jesus made his mother our mother. He made everyone kin to me, to you. Each of us contains the pure glory of God within us. And therefore, although strangers, we belong to each other through an inextricable, divine link. Thomas Merton wrote of a metaphorical dream-state, of illusory separateness, of spurious self-isolation. He described awakening from this dream, seeing and feeling the gate of heaven everywhere: I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs. And, Peter Storey writes, “From the cross where he is nailed, Jesus nails us to each other ... If Jesus has made everyone kin to me, would that not make every war in history a civil war and every casualty a death in my family?”

Wow. I never saw it that way, before. I feel filled with light.

[Here's a great article on the vulnerability of Jesus.]

Good Friday

2009-04-10T12:10:00.000-07:00

So many things to consider. Lucy's post got me to reflecting upon Good Friday in a way I hadn't, previously. I stayed up all night. It's noon here. I need to sleep. When I awake I will write about Good Friday. In the meantine, here's a favourite of mine, from Dali.

Encouraging Bliss ~ Do Not Get Rid of Your Vice

2009-04-09T16:01:00.000-07:00

Seeking Over Stimulation ~ I have lived life like a hummingbird, that moves in a frenzied blur from flower to flower, in search of the sweet nectar of excitement and stimulation. When life gets me down, I run from the anxiety and boredom by overindulging in variety and activity. I often have felt like that child, who runs down the aisles of a toy store, fearful of choosing one toy because she will miss out on the rest. Before this time in my life, I have rarely stopped to experience my inner self, to focus on completion. I've sort of felt like that stone skipping across a lake ~ when it slows down or stops it sinks deeply. And then? Oh no ~ have I sunk too far inward? Have I gotten dissolved in the contemplative moments?

So, what's the upside of this vice? How can I transform my vice into a virtue? Well, my creativity, my ability to visual beyond what's present. That quality has served me well, wherever life has taken me. However, I could stop worrying about dissolving, or sinking into oblivion ~ when I stop ~ and taste the sweet nectar of life as its offered me. Eckhart Tolle writes of thinking as a disease ~ a cancer. Indeed, with me, its so. And this blocks my path to the present, to the here and now, to my self. It also fuels that frenzied, fluttering hummingbird, which seeks constant movement, but does not savour the moments.

I found this exercise difficult to complete. I hope I have done it some justice. I feel like I've just barely skimmed the surface.

Full Moon Dreamers ~ Pink April Moon

2009-04-09T00:05:00.000-07:00

Full Moon Dreamboards ~ a creative way to express what we wish to manifest in a particular month. Each month has a name, a this becomes the theme or inspiration for the dreamboard. For more on Full Moon Dreamboards, visit Jamie's site.

Full Pink Moon - April - This name came from the herb moss pink, or wild ground phlox, which is one of the earliest widespread flowers of the spring. Other names for this month's celestial body include the Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon (the full moon before Easter), and among coastal tribes the Full Fish Moon, because this was the time that the Shad swam upstream to spawn.

Pink ~ the colour of fresh, young skin; the colour of deliciously broiled Wild Sockeye Salmon fillets; the colour of White Zinfandel (a favourite of mine); the colour of the tartest, most refreshing Pink Lemonade; the colour of bitter and juicey Grapefruit flesh; the colour of sunrise skies, also of sunset skies; the colour of the sun on a lazy and sultry summer evening; the colour of magnolias and Cherry Blossoms; (in Feng Shui) the colour of universal love.

Pink emits a soothing energy. Designer use pink to convey softness, tenderness, playfulness. Both bold and gentle could describe pink. Pink expressed joy, hope, and gentle vibrancy. I entered this world through my mother's pink door, just as my sons entered this world through my own pink door. Ahhh, pink ~ portal of life, as in the pink canal.**

As the Full Pink Moon approaches, my spirit stirs to embrace life more vibrantly, taking courage to hold hope closer to my heart, and remembering the plethora of joys that bless me in my life. I feel also, a stirring in my soul to work toward spreading hope to others with the smallest of gestures, and to embrace transformation with my whole being.

** credit to my husband, Martin, for coming up with this interpretation of and metaphor for PINK**

~ all photos taken by yours truly;

I created this mosaic at BigHugeLabs~

Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for Transformation

2009-04-08T14:28:00.000-07:00

This week's Wish Prompt ~ What do You Wish to Transform?

And, so, this week, this holy week ... I make wishes for transformation. As the week leads me to Good Friday, and thoughts of Our Lord suffering persecution and death, and then to Easter Sunday, when he rose from the dead, I ponder what transformation means for me, in my life. Transformation dances all around me ~ in the blooming cherry blossoms, magnolias and rhododendrons, in the awakening woods. I live transformation ~ each moment I breathe ~ that's transformation.

I wish to transform the world around me, through transformation of myself. I wish to transform myself by standing firm in the present ~ living in, embracing, the now. My life encapsulates itself in the now. I wish to transform myself by gaining a truer understanding of those around me, embracing them with compassion, rather than judgement. I wish to transform the world around me by making small gestures of hope to those who need it most.

What do you wish to transform?

Mystic Monday # 1 :: Unmarked Boxes

2009-04-06T00:06:00.000-07:00

Mystic Monday ~ An alternate to Manic Monday.

Unmarked Boxes

by Jalal al-din Rumi

translated by Coleman Barks

Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round
in another form. The child weaned from mother's milk
now drinks wine and honey mixed.

God's joy moves from unmarked box to unmarked box,
from cell to cell. As rainwater, down into flower bed.
As roses, up from ground.
Now it looks like a plate of rice and fish,
now a cliff covered with vines,
now a horse being saddled.
It hides within these,
till one day it cracks them open.

Part of the self leaves the body when we sleep
and changes shape. You might say, "Last night
I was a cypress tree, a small bed of tulips,
a field of grapevines." Then the phantasm goes away.
You're back in the room.
I don't want to make any one fearful.
Hear what's behind what I say.

Tatatumtum tatum tatadum.
There's the light gold of wheat in the sun
and the gold of bread made from that wheat.
I have neither. I'm only talking about them,

as a town in the desert looks up
at stars on a clear night.

How I love this poem, and the poet who wrote those words. This poem tells me that nothing really ever dies, but only changes form. One can only count on change, as a constant in life. And, in the eyes of God, we have sameness, no distinctions ~ when we return to him, the human construct of separateness melts, just the same as a water droplet that falls into a vast ocean.

The graces of God which we receive, we cannot control. The divine works, unseen, in unmarked places, and at unmarked times. He moves from unmarked box, to unmarked box. And, as for loss ~ those dear ones that lose physical form, whose matter we can no longer see, touch, smell, hear ~ remember, forms only change; they do not die. Perhaps, then, we might conjure up the image of a star exploding, shedding off layers and layers and seeding many new stars all around. Death does not exist, really. And, life cultivates life.

Project 287 :: Week 2 in Review

2009-04-04T23:08:00.000-07:00

The Ones That Didn't Make It ~ #2

2009-04-03T20:54:00.000-07:00

I a little tired today, at the end of this week. I did the final titration of my Valproic Acid to TID (3 times per day). I suppose my body has to get used to the increase. All in all, a great week. Enjoy the slideshow, and have a wonderful weekend!

Magnolias and [my own] *8 Things

2009-04-02T21:46:00.000-07:00

Magpie Girl ~~did not post~~ posted her usual *8 Things Meme ~~today~~ late ~ as in, after I'd published this post. So, instead, I give you Magnolias, which I came across in Chinatown early this evening. We just happened to walk Eastward on Pender Street, from Tinseltown, when I looked South, down Shanghai Alley and gasped as I saw this lovely bouquet of Pink Magnolias in bloom! What a treat for the eyes, and for the soul! And, so, here's some eye candy and soul candy for you!

And, because I have taken a liking to making lists, here's a list of
8 cool things for bloggers

1. Funky Mood Icons ~ you choose your mood at the site, plunk the code into your sidebar, and then whenever you change your mood again, your sidebar mood icon automatically changes.
2. LunaPics ~ where you can edit your photos online (more features than Picnik)
3. Funky Twitter Buttons ~ the best, kewlest, cutest I've seen
4. Phixyr ~ another good place to edit your pics [no registration req'd]
5. Human Calender ~ check it out, its waaaay kewl
6. Bumper Stickers for your Blog ~ not tacky, or pimpish, but really neat
7. Countdown ~ count up or down to any date
8. Flicker Buttons ~ these look reeeeal nice, not tacky

HAVE FUN!

Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for Trust

2009-04-01T16:51:00.000-07:00

This week's Wish Prompt ~ What do You Wish to Trust?

I wish to trust myself, my inner voice ~ that one which speaks from the seat of my soul. I wish to trust my creative muse, who so oft I have felt wont to disregard and cast aside. I wish to trust God, the truth of whom has for many years, felt obliterated by my confusion, arrogance, vanity, and reckless abandon. I wish to trust in the sacredness of my marriage, which has taken quite a bruising these past few years. I wish to trust that trusting, rather than holding suspicion close to my heart, does not make me a naive fool. I wish to trust that I have it in me, to handle the incredible responsibility and burden of nursing, once more ~ without anger, without rage, without resisting the Now.

101 Things in 1001 Days

2009-03-31T14:15:00.000-07:00

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you something special. Treacle Tuesday will return next week. Have you heard of the Day Zero Project? Its a meme that challenges people to set realistic goals and meet those goals in 1001 days. I spent most of last night making my list. Take a look at it, if you like. Now I will print this list out and stick it to the wall in our bedroom, on my side of the room. I will position the list so its one of the first things I see, when I awake.

Do feel up for the challenge? What 101 things do you want to complete in 1001 days.

Manic Mondays # 4::Carving Order into the Chaos

2009-03-30T14:17:00.000-07:00

I have adopted a flexible routine. It keeps me grounded. It enables me to focus on following the inspiration to creative production. I have decided, also, to reject negative energy, in favour of positive light. I do not need to get the last word. I have come to see that I am not my mind. I am soulful, I am spirit. I am light. I found a fabulous website last night called The Happiness Project. It led me to devise my own person commandments. And my own framework for happiness.

I remain committed to myself, in continuing my own Project 365. I have come to see that one must commit to oneself on a spiritual, personal level, before one can contribute in any meaningful way to others, to society at large. This realization makes me feel alive inside, and stable/grounded on the outside. I do choose ~ it does start with me.

Sacred Life Sunday:A Day of Rest ~family, relaxing, quiet time

2009-03-29T06:20:00.000-07:00

This picture speaks for itself. What else, for a Sunday, but sacred rest?

Project 287 :: Week 1 In Review

2009-03-28T05:48:00.000-07:00

What is Project 287?

Foto Finish Friday :: The Ones That Didn't Make It

2009-03-27T20:30:00.000-07:00

I have decided to make Foto Finish Friday a chance to feature and 'finish' my own photographs, rather than someone else's. I will choose from the many photos that I took for my Project 287, that did not 'make the cut.' The photo below, I took on the W. Georgia side of the Vancouver Art Gallery. It's part of the main feature of the grounds, there ~ a lovely stone-sculptured fountain that has several sides, depicting a nymph-like creature, climbing up the rocky slope. Creator, Alex Svoboda used as his inspiration for this magnificent piece the legends of the Celts, Gauls and Britons, the forebearers of of the earliest British Columbians. He carved this magnificent piece from 18 ft-high black marble, which came from Carrara, Italy. The design centred around a motif of water, and the fountain commemorates the union of the Crown Colony of Vancouver Island with the mainland ~ 1966.

*8 Things ~ Not to Miss in Your Twenties

2009-03-26T07:14:00.000-07:00

1. Spend time with your girlfriends ~ Don't let your boyfriend or love interest monopolize all your time. Now's the time to enjoy your youth, your freedom [from heavy-duty commitment and responsibility] and your friends. As time passes, and you grow older, and grow into family life, you'll find less and less time for yourself and for time spent with your friends.

2. Start saving your money now ~ Its never too early to begin saving. Saving = good. Spend-thrifting = bad. Think of saving as paying yourself first.

3. Live by yourself [i.e. on your own] ~ It may seem lonely and solitary, at first, but it will prove a invaluable experience that will pay dividends later in your life. Make sure that you can meet the challenge of self-sufficiency, before entangling your life with someone else's.

4. Use birth control ~ Its definitely not as glamourous and easy as it seems to go through pregnancy and raise a child. If you want to get pregnant so you can have someone to love you unconditionally, then get a pet.

5. Travel, work abroad, spend time living abroad ~ Now - when you have none of the heavy-duty family responsibilities - you can afford the time, energy and cost of such an trip. Do it ~ you won't regret it.

6. Pay cash for everything, and if you can't, don't buy it ~ You will have hundreds of companies [department stores, banks, etc] convincing you that you need to get a credit card, a loan, or a line of credit from them. Ignore them. Refuse them. Bankruptcy and/or a poor credit rating will follow you around for longer than you can imagine. Don't mortgage your future opportunities for the present's tempting frivolities.

7. Forgive your parents for whatever you think they did wrong ~ They did the best they could. Parenting looks easy, until you get there. And, really, you'd end up wasting so much time and effort being angry. Get over it.

8. Take the career path that YOU want ~ Its likely going to make some waves when you tell your parents that you don't want to study X, but you want to study Z. Or when you tell them you have no interest in learning the family business. But, in the end, its your life. In the future you must live with the consequences of the choices you make now. Choose wisely and for the right reasons.

Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Money Wishes

2009-03-25T12:11:00.000-07:00

This week's Wish Prompt ~ What's Your Money Wish?

Want, when, worry. Imagine a hidden civilization with no words in their language for these words ~ want, when, worry. Interesting. A people with no desire to accumulate. A people with little roots. A nomadic people that spend 6 months of the year in their handcrafted boats. How do these people value each other, I wonder? Not by their depths of accumulation. And what, then, does this say about money? It says, to me, that money has become far more than a means of exchange in our modern society. Its become a symbol of power, and the measuring-stick by which we measure others.

Think of it. What's the first question people typically ask, when meeting someone for the first time? What do you do for a living? Which really means the following. How much money do you earn? Why do we want to know this? Does it assist us in sizing up the person that we've just met? Do we rank people, according to the amount of money they have in their coffers? How sad. Because he who dies with the most toys, still dies.

I wish for a more inclusive society, with respect to money. I wish for a day when all people have what they need, not necessarily what they want, to live life. I wish for a day when I no longer have to juxtapose in my head the fact that in Canada's richest city, a poor and homeless chap called Richard lives at the corner of Hastings and Main, possessing not much more than a hammer with which to defend himself. I wish for a day when people no longer confuse financial wealth with life fulfillment.

I wish .... what's your money wish?

Photo: I took this one in Dorset, UK, last year ~ when it comes to money we all seem like sheep, don't we?

Treacle Tuesday # 1: Brownie-Bear

2009-03-24T16:44:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Tuesday. I have created a challenge for this day of the week that I call Treacle Tuesday. Its my vehicle for honouring the most precious and cherished things in my life ~ people. Why treacle? Well, because it comes from the Latin word for antidote to poison. And because of its sweetness ~ as the by-product of sugar refinement. I've come to realize, in my heart of hearts, that I need to remember and honour the people that have graced and blessed my life, in the past and in the present. To always hold so close to my heart and soul the graces and blessings that enrich my life and have molded me into myself ~ that's a real antidote to the poison of negative energy. And, so ... here's the first Treacle Tuesday post.

My pets, of course, they're animals. But, they're each, always, also people ~ full-fledged family members. And, so, this week I honour the last of our Afghan Clan ~ the end of an era. The painting below ~ commissioned by me after his death ~ was done by Laura Pelick.

Dear Brownie Bear;

We cried for you, when you had to go, to that place where we could not follow. We felt so blessed to share life and love and everything in between for the 10 years you lived. We really called you Blazer, after a favourite vehicle that I drove shortly before we brought you home. I'll never forget that day, in November of 1996, when we drove to Fargo, ND from our home in Winnipeg, with the two kids and the two Afghan Hounds we already had in tow, in our Chevy Suburban.

Daddy got a speeding ticket on that trip. Its hard to believe your small size then, when I reminisce about your early life. You had taken a very long flight from Connecticut, where your breeder lives. You came from the Dragonfly kennel. Your pedigree lists your name as Dragonfly Lawrence of Arabia. I love that movie, Lawrence of Arabia, and that's why we chose that as your registered name.

I smile and laugh to myself, when I think what a cocky little pup we brought home from the Fargo airport. You loved to pick on Gitane, tug on her long, black coat with your sharp teeth. And you also took to sleeping in Gypsy's kennel. Surprisingly, he allowed you. I remember with such fondness, the time when he came to his kennel, to lie down, and found you, curled up in a tiny red, fur-ball, at the very front of his kennel. He very gently and carefully stepped into the kennel without disturbing you, turned himself around, and sat down, in that sphynx-position. How precious!

We cherished you in your later days, especially because of your status as the last Afghan remaining. You tolerated so well the move to Vancouver, in the cab of a U-Haul truck, with three humans sitting on the bench seat, and yourself scrunched on the floor of the passenger's side of the cab. You, a big, fully grown Afghan Hound by then, had to share foot space with Logan and me. We rode like that for 33 hours ... all the way to the westcoast. You adapted to apartment-living so well. What a good dog! You understood everything we said to you ... you never begged when you saw us eating our meals ... and you never ran away when we let you offleash at the Kitsilano Dog Beach.

We love you always, Brownie. You gave us so much. And we feel so much joy at the blessing of your life, devotion and love. RIP. I know you live on, beyond the veil. I feel your spirit in the wind around me, sometimes. I shall hold a place in my heart for you. That's where you live ... forever.

Love,

Mummy

Manic Mondays # 3::Tempering the Centrifuge

2009-03-23T13:25:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Monday. I have created a new feature for Monday's post I am calling Manic Monday. Its an opportunity for me to explore my bipolarity and lifestyle changes I can make to bring stability and serenity to my inner self.

Imagine trying to live your life while some unknown spirit thrusts you repeatedly into and out of a centrifuge. The centrifuge never stops spinning. Instead, it vacillates between super-rapid spinning and somewhat sluggish spinning. You never know and can never predict the speed of the centrifuge. But still, you must pass through it at the whim of this evil spirit ~ enter ... exit ... enter.

The G forces weigh you down. And the volatility of an unknown renders you inert to the vibrant activity of life going on around you. Slowly, gradually, bits of you get sheared away ~ eroded by the chaos of existing in a centrifuge. The centrifuge sucks you in and spits you out, at random. And you feel eroded ... you begin to feel like nothing. You lose yourself in all that spinning. Slow down. Dance faster. Can you imagine? That's what it feels like, living with and through Bipolar Disorder.

I wrote this in my journal about a week ago, following a particularly horrid and raging manic episode. The raging mania I endured for those few hours became a lesson for me, an experience that led me to work harder at improving myself, and my response to life and the people around me. It sparked me to seek positive, healing energy and influences. I started by setting goals for myself every day. At first these goals involved organizing, tidying, decluttering my flat.

By the end of last week, I had completed the major task of making this flat look and feel like a home. I felt so good, inside and out. Its amazing how one's physical surroundings really rouses one's spirit. Getting rid of useless stuff, organizing that which remains ~ this removed such a heavy weight from my inner self. It filled with me with good energy, and that energy acts a talisman against the evil force that wants me to live my life at the whim of his centrifuge.

My task then became finding a way to hang onto this good and positive energy. I made that visit to the doctor that I had long procrastinated. I told him I wanted to add a mood stabilizer to my med regime. He granted my request. I now commit to myself to take my medications daily and to complete my mood diary daily. With this, my mind began feeling strong and balanced. My soul still cried out for sustenance, for a way to manufacture and grasp hold of positive energy.

The universe must have heard my cries, for then I stumbled upon a group of bloggers that sparked the creative light that had fizzled over the past few months. I've made a commitment to my creative muse ~ to express myself creatively, each and every day. My spirit feels healthier, more content, more balanced. I begin to feel a joy that emanates from within me, not from outside of me. My daily affirmation to myself ~ be the change you want to see ~ reminds me each day that I choose, that it starts with me, that changes effected on the inside will manifest themselves on the outside.

And so, I commit to myself, each and every day, to adhere to a routine, to make order a sacred priority in my daily existence. Further, I commit to myself to express myself creatively each and every day ~ through Project 287, and through a structure of daily creative challenges I have devised for myself in this blog. I have committed to myself to share with others the riches of inspiration and ideas that flow into my river.

Sacred Life Sunday:A White Stag ~beauty, pursuit, quest

2009-03-21T21:36:00.000-07:00

Various legends exist regarding the white stag … for example in the UK just about every village has a tavern named The White Hart. The loveliest legends and stories about the white stag make him a messenger, a creature that eludes capture by humans, and even a creature which guides the souls of the recently deceased to the other side.

The white stag eludes our capture because he represents our quest for spiritual knowledge and also our capacity to overcome our challenges and difficulties. The accomplishment lies in his pursuit … not in his capture. The white stag seems, to me, a vestige of beauty … a metaphor for our pursuit of life and living.

The many wondrous gifts of living trickle upon us as we journey through this life. I don't see life as a treasure hunt ~ I see life as the treasure. Each challenge I face, each difficulty I overcome becomes a gift to me, a lesson. I've begun to see that I should run toward the challenges and difficulties that present themselves before me, as opposed to running away from them.

The gift of life and spirit lie in their pursuit, not in their capture and imprisonment.

My Complete Manifesto

2009-03-21T00:06:00.000-07:00

I've discovered the most genuine and compassionate manner in which I can effect change in my surroundings. It involves effecting change in my self first and foremost - challenging my self to compassionate and hostile-free exchanges. I choose a course that involves altering my reaction to the thoughts, feelings and expressions of others.

I choose to remove myself from the presence of negative energy, which manifests itself as: (1) fear philosophy, hostility and obscuring, belief-driven ideology; (2) inflammation and rhetoric; (3) labelling, accusing and the blame game. I choose to 'agree to disagree,' rather than try to change the opinions of other(s).

I choose a path that involves stepping outside the box. I choose challenge. I choose to push the envelope ~ my envelope. I acknowledge dynamism, and the inevitability of change. I choose to make thoughtful and determined choices as to the energy with which I surround myself (read: company I choose to keep).

I choose. it starts with me.

Foto Finish Fridays # 1 ~ Ursus Maritimus

2009-03-20T06:34:00.000-07:00

A picture = 1,000 words, maybe even more. The neat thing being, each set of eyes that looks at a picture will see a different story. Pictures inspire us, with their shadows, shapes, curves, colour, depth, and of course their subjects. I have started a new challenge for myself. Each week I will choose a picture ~ ~~featured on a popular website such as Flickr or National Geographic~~ one that I've taken ~ and I will free write about this picture ... about whatever inspirations it stirs within me. Its sort of like I'm finishing the foto . I'm starting this to challenge my imagination and nurture my creative source. For this week, I'm cheating an using this provocative photo I found on the National Geographic website.

Photograph by Paul Nicklen

National Geographic Society

Hello, human. Let me tell you my story. The Inuit call me Anuk. Scientists call me Ursus maritimus. You likely know me as Polar Bear. I live in a dark, austere and unforgiving terrain :: bitterly cold, dark winters, and meager vegetation. Glacial ice encasses most of the landmass here, in Svalbard ~ a cluster of islands halfway between Norway and the North Pole.

I raise my babies on the archipelago's isolated islands. My home has among the highest biodensity in the circumpolar region. The energy-rich waters sustain the ecosystem. My home lies beyond the human edge of possibility. Summer brings perpetual light. Winter brings perpetual darkness. Many of us remain here throughout the year. Except the birds ~ they're carpet baggers of sorts. The sunshine nights force us out of our usual nocturnal rhythm. We eat, and eat, and eat some more. I'm twice the size of a Siberian Tiger. And, I love to swim. Did you know that I can track a scent from a mile away?

Rising temperatures mean melting glacial ice. Over the past 30 years we have witnessed a 30 % decline in sea ice areas. The melting of glacial ice threatens my survival. As you can see in the picture, we had to get pretty good at jumping across the water ~ from ice flow to ice flow. But, some of my kind don't make it to the other side of the water. And they drown. Your chemicals, your pollutants weaken me ~ compromise my immune system and my life expectancy. Fat soluble pollutants harm me the most. Well, I've adapted to changes in my habitat before ... but only time will tell if I and my kind can survive these changes.

8 Things ~ I Highly Recommend You Do in Your Teens

2009-03-20T00:07:00.000-07:00

1. Say NO to him ~ if he really loves you like he says he does, then he will wait. Don't settle for second best. You're worth more than that. Besides, you don't want to get pregnant. Its not as glamourous as Angelina Jolie makes it look.

2. Wear that mini-skirt, that short dress, that bikini, even ~ just pullleeeese, girls, don't make the mistake of thinking showing your undies or parts of your bare ass off in public is a good look. Less uncovered often equals more.

3. Wear sunscreen ~ skin cancer sucks ~ its painful and unattractive. Also, the sun exposure weathers your skin.

4. Get your driver's license ~ even if you don't intend on buying a car. And learn how to drive a standard. Take driving lessons ~ your mum or dad ain't the one to teach you driving, trust me.

5. Look in the mirror and tell yourself you're beautiful ~ in 20 or 30 years you'll look back and see the beauty of your youth. Look closely, the beauty's right there. You're NOT fat. Stop reading that sh!t they put on the magazine stands, like Cosmopolitan. Honey, no one really looks like those girls do. Those girls look like they do in Cosmo because of Photoshop!

6. Stay away from drugs ~ an addiction's the only thing you'll get, if you do dabble in the drug world. Addiction sucks ~ its like having a greedy monkey sitting on your shoulder, obsessing over when she'll get the next banana. Trust me, its never worth the high or the buzz you get.

7. Volunteer ~ its good for you to allocate some of your time to helping others.

8. Read ... and learn how to write ~ reading opens your mind ... it also might even open some doors for you. Research shows that reading promotes the neural connections in your brain and even helps you build new ones. And writing ~ many people can't write a paragraph or a paper to save their skin. Learn now.

Watch this YouTube video, made by Baz Lurhmann ~ Wear Sunscreen. He says it alot better than I ever could.

Full Moon Dreamers ~ Full Worm Moon

2009-03-19T00:24:00.000-07:00

Full Moon Dreamboards ~ a creative way to express what we wish to manifest in a particular month. Each month has a name, a this becomes the theme or inspiration for the dreamboard. For more on Full Moon Dreamboards, visit Jamie's site.

Full Worm Moon ~ March ~ As the temperature begins to warm and the ground begins to thaw, earthworm casts appear, heralding the return of the robins. The more northern tribes knew this Moon as the Full Crow Moon, when the cawing of crows signaled the end of winter; or the Full Crust Moon, because the snow cover becomes crusted from thawing by day and freezing at night. The Full Sap Moon, marking the time of tapping maple trees, is another variation. To the settlers, it was also known as the Lenten Moon, and was considered to be the last full Moon of winter.

Ahhhh. Spring begins to spring ~ the earth softens and begins nourishing life once more. Its a rebirth, of sorts ~ when what's within the earth (i.e. beneath its surface) burrows and sprouts its way through the surface. Perhaps I could take this calling from Mother Earth to soften somewhat, and allow some of that tenderness to reveal itself to others? Its what I wish to manifest in myself this month ~ to tear down the hard ass act ... and reveal a little of the vulnerable me. I suppose I'd like to draw myself out of my self. Or maybe its a pushing or purging?

And, so, here's a photochoppy I made that expresses this sentiment. It seems lacking, perhaps, but my heart says that this expresses what it wishes to express. Surreal Birth.

Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for Saying Yes

2009-03-18T15:45:00.000-07:00

Jamie @ Starshyne Productions inspired this post. Each week, Jamie posts a wish prompt ~ a prompt meant to inspire participants to make a wish on their blogs. Giving and receiving support and encouragement lies at the heart of wishcasting. Visit Starshyne for more info on wishcasting.

This week's Wish Prompt ~ What do you wish to say yes to?

I wish to say yes to embracing the present, that place where life resides. And to the future, with all its possibilities. I wish to say yes to letting go of the anguish, anger and pain of past betrayals. And also to focussing on what I have still, as opposed to what I have lost. I wish to say yes to the surrender of forgiveness. And to the submissiveness of humility.

I wish to say yes to living within my means, to rejecting consumerism and to paying my debts. I wish to say yes to embracing reconciliation in my marriage and to giving myself completely in loving my husband. I wish to say yes to engaging life, coming out of my shell, to the many existing opportunities to participate. I wish to say yes to reinstating my professional nursing license and re-entering the profession for the first time in three years.

I wish to say yes to my creative muse, to writing that novel, to maintaining my blogs. I wish to say yes to supporting and encouraging my 23-year old son, who has moved two provinces away to begin a life with his girlfriend. Most of all, I wish to say yes to healing my body, mind and soul.

What do you wish to say yes to? Happy Wishcasting Wednesday.

Manic Mondays # 2 :: Mixed Episode and the Darkness of Mania

2009-03-16T01:51:00.000-07:00

For details on Manic Mondays, please see this post.

Mixed Episode. That's what they call it in the psychiatric world when you feel insanely stimulated and darkly depressed all at one. Degrees of intensity vary from person to person and instance to instance, of course. Irregardless, it feels disconcertingly removed from ... everything and everyone that's supposedly real. It plain hurts, really. Its like trying to drive your car around the busy city whilst flooring the accelerator AND slamming on the brakes ~ like, at the same time.

Mr. Tinkerbell tells me, in the aftermath, that its seems like some evil demon possesses me ... 'its not you ... when you're like that.' Indeed, he's so right. Its sort of not me ... but it is my chemistry and physiology at work. And ... that's what plagued my Friday evening and night ~ a mixed episode. I know the trigger that provoked this latest episode. Just, well, I'm embarrassed to admit the foolish act I committed to trigger my behaviours. But, dear reader, I will.

Its like this ~ I fell off the cocaine abstinence wagon. Yup. Go ahead ... tell me how dumb ... ask me WTF possessed me to do such a dangerous thing. Still, berating myself doesn't alter the reality that I did cocaine again ... even after saying I never, ever would, several months ago! For those of you who don't know ... cocaine feels fabulous ... like an orgasm for the neurons. However, one hit never satisfies the internal monkey. The cocaine monkey, once awakened, wants more and more and more and more and more. She's a greeeeeedy monkey. And she only ever thinks about getting the next banana. Grrrrrrrrr.

Sooo, yeah, I fell off the wagon. And the monkey got pissed off when I cut off her banana supply. Add the stress of being broke and between paydays ... the stress of overcoming marriage strife via form of reconciliation ... the vulnerability that descends in times of unsurity and physical illness ... and the confusion of trying to decide what's right in life. Let's not forget the aging parents that live far away. That's quite a recipe for collapse of some kind.

Angry. I felt possessed by such rage. The kind of rage that makes a person turn normal, household objects into ballistic missiles. The kind of rage that makes a person say vile things to their loved one. The kind of rage to makes a heart race. And, yet ... I felt such despair ~ the despair that deludes you into believing its eternal. I could not reason. I could not negotiate. I could not relent. Self righteous ... lacking insight. Unable to concentrate. Mr. Tinkerbell did the wise thing he always does when I get like this ... he disengaged, silently. In the height of such agitation, one rarely takes time to think about how this behaviour affects persons present. He did not leave. He stayed. And said nothing. How painfully difficult!

After steaming myself into near heat stroke via shower, I turned on my Acer laptop and focussed on the internet ~ my blog, and various sites I have wanted to check out of late. I stayed up until 5 am. But, the internet did provide my brain with the diversion it needed to redirect itself. And, in the process, I discovered the fun of icanhascheezburger, I pimped this blog on various blog directory sites, I discovered psychcentral and I researched some meds I'll need to take.

A misty, sporadic sort of rain fell throughout the day Sunday. Its the sort of weather that makes me feel the dampness in my bones. As night drew closer, the wind picked up, and I could hear the cold howl of the wind, and the angry patter of rain drops hitting the front door. Its early, early Monday morning as I write this. The wind and the rain have settled. Its calm now. Quiet now. I can rest, soon.

Image Credit: Dark Matter by Mary Mattingly

Mad Hatter Syndrome?

2009-03-14T08:20:00.000-07:00

Unless you have lived in a remote cave, or under a large rock, for the past many years, then you have heard the phrase mad as a hatter ... and know the beloved Alice in Wonderland character Mad Hatter. So ... WTF does it mean, mad as a hatter?

A hatter, well that's the poor sop who used to make hats, felt hats, specifically. The best sorts of felt hats required fur from beaver or rabbit pelts. And, of course, the fur from the pelts need processing in order to become a hat. By processing, of course we mean the addition of some kind of unfriendly chemicals. (Are there any other kind of chemicals, but the unfriendly kind, i ask you, dear reader?) Mercury applied to the fur made it rougher, matted ~ you know, to harden the fur so the hatter could shape it, iron it, steam it into its finished form, usually a top hat.

Hatters typically worked in poorly ventilated areas, and so the fumes from the mercury compound literally went to their heads. Ahhh, the pleasantries of mercury poisoning: brain damage ... kidney damage ... a painful death, sooner rather than later. What does that look and feel like? Like this ~ yellowing of skin, intense itchiness, loosening of teeth, mouth sores, bleeding gums, loss of co-ordination, slurred speech, and personality changes such as irritability, paranoia, memory loss, depression, anxiety, abdominal cramping, breathing difficulties, cardiac malfunction, muscle cramps. You get the idea, right? Sounds charming, huh? [NOT]

A so, now you know what Mad as a Hatter means. Makes one value sanity, doesn't it? Indeed, it does. It reminds one, too, of the pain of madness. Yes, it hurts when one is mad ... insane ... unstable ... mentally ill. Make no bones about it.

Break-up Songs - Get Angry, Not Soppy!

2009-03-13T16:01:00.001-07:00

.. a PLINKY post ...

This post answers the PLINKY prompt that asks bloggers, 'Name three songs to help you get over a break-up.' The prompt also asks what makes these good post-break-up songs.
Haven't heard of PLINKY? It's fun, and maybe helpful if you have blogger's block.

1. I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

2.You're So Vain by Carly Simon
3. Delia's Gone by Johnny Cash

The song titles explain themselves, don't they? I remember listening to the first song on the back seat of my friend's mustang, on a ghetto blaster, coming home from the bar on a Saturday night. Oh, the crazy things we do we we're twenty-something! The second song's a classic break-up song, ain't it? The third song is one for the boys - :^)

And ... I can think of another song ~ Wrapped Around My Finger, by The Police. I have always loved the esoteric, almost arrogant tone of the lyrics.

My menagerie of aminals

2009-03-13T00:48:00.001-07:00

... a PLINKY post ...

This post answers the PLINKY prompt that asks bloggers, 'Pick a wild animal to keep as a pet.'
The prompt also asks why we'd choose that animal.
Haven't heard of PLINKY? It's fun, and maybe helpful if you have blogger's block.

A llama ~ because they hiss and spit, and that appeals to me, an eccentric recluse. A cheetah ~ because they're spotted, feline and fast - fuck translink, kidz!, A lion ~ a boy lion of course, 'cuz he gots such a puuuurty mane! And cuz, then, no dumb boyz will try to fuck with me, anymore. And .... hmmmm, a hummingbird ~ because why? Well, because they sound cool when they hum, which is just about all the time! And, well, they like me. (Who knew?) Oh yeah, also a pair of swans ~ they're known for their orneriness (they can break your leg with their wing, y'know). And a pair of geese ~ me likes the way they hiss - they're great guard aminals!

i ride polar bears?

2009-02-28T21:32:00.000-08:00

i have been very very sick with a pneumonia that had me hospitalized for 4 days.

blahhhh ~ i am sooooo tired, and weak.

ahhhh ~ but i am slowly on the mend. missing you all and thinking of you.

Manic Mondays # 1 :: Suicide and Stigma

2009-02-23T01:03:00.000-08:00

Manic Mondays, my attempt to devise a vehicle for myself through which I can write focussed posts on what it feels like, looks like, tastes like, smells like to live with mental illness. First and second experience will inspire these posts. I want to make these posts deeply personal, rather than clinical or medical.

A good friend of mine who was bipolar recently hung himself. He had struggled for awhile, following the holiday season. I think he reached that point that some of us reach, where we know we need something ... some sort of relief. But ... something keeps us from reaching out and grabbing it. Fear, perhaps, of the exhausting stigma and judgmental attitude one faces, when one seeks the so-called help the mental health system offers its victims. We get tired of hanging on to the rocky cliff. And we let go. And they blame us ... for feeling the feelings, for having the thoughts, for seeking relief. Its almost as though, because we cannot see the wounds of those afflicted with mental illness, we blame them for their illness. Like, c'mon, snap out of it, stop being depressed! How many have heard that one before?

Do we, as a society, think and believe we're doing all we can to stop this from happening? When did we last hear about a revolutionary breakthrough in psychiatric treatment? How much of society's resources goes toward R&D of mental illness and psychiatric treatment? Not enough, I fear, particularly when one considers the invisible virulence and life-threatening nature of diseases such as bipolar disorder and schizophrenia.

can we play something else?

2009-02-19T16:59:00.000-08:00

I don't know why you did what you did

2009-01-28T20:34:00.000-08:00

does it hurt for you, still

like it hurts for us

left to mourn

and grieve

and wail

and scream?

or ...

in several instances of

carefully planning your death

did you cast out your pain

onto the living?

i don't know

why you did what you did.

distance provides me reprieve

2009-01-17T16:07:00.000-08:00

alienated. by the dysfunctional dynamic that threatened to shatter my sanity into one million little pieces. the revolving door of hospital admission continues for my dad. i really think my mum needs placement. if she does not get placed, my father will die in her service.

Some Things on My Mind

2009-01-13T10:32:00.000-08:00

What is religion? Is it really the only conduit to God and his light? What is prayer? Is it really an event? An activity? Or is it a state of mind? A way of being? Contemplation? Why do so many think of prayer as a call-in show with God, where He's at the other end, listening, taking notes, and moving the pieces on his giant chess board appropriately? From where does suffering emanate? How can we blame God for the state of things when we have this thing called free will? How can we surrender the surrender of forgiveness?

What we need is to love without exhausting ourselves. How does a lamp burn? By the consumption of steadily dripping drops of oil. What are the drops of oil in our own lamps? The little things in daily life: faithfulness, a friendly word, a kind thought for others . . . Do not search for Jesus far from you. He is not somewhere else. He is in you. Keep your lamp burning and you will recognize Him.

~Mother Teresa, No Greater Love

Love is the eye with which we see God; love itself is understanding. But love is not to be confused with mere feelings. Feelings burn out too easily; they can be manipulated or seduced. The love by which we see God must be an act of the will rather than a passing affection of the heart.

~William of St. Thierry

"I once picked up a woman from a garbage dump and she was burning with fever; she was in her last days and her only lament was: ‘My son did this to me.’ I begged her: You must forgive your son. In a moment of madness, when he was not himself, he did a thing he regrets. Be a mother to him, forgive him. It took me a long time to make her say: ‘I forgive my son.’ Just before she died in my arms, she was able to say that with a real forgiveness. She was not concerned that she was dying. The breaking of the heart was that her son did not want her. This is something you and I can understand."

~Mother Theresa

The more you have, the more you are occupied, the less you give. But the less you have the more free you are. Poverty for us is a freedom. It is not mortification, a penance. It is joyful freedom. There is no television here, no this, no that. But we are perfectly happy.

When a poor person dies of hunger, it has not happened because God did not take care of him or her. It has happened because neither you nor I wanted to give that person what he or she needed.

You and I, we are the Church, no? We have to share with our people. Suffering today is because people are hoarding, not giving, not sharing. Jesus made it very clear. Whatever you do to the least of my brethren, you do it to me. Give a glass of water, you give it to me. Receive a little child, you receive me.

Everybody today seems to be in such a terrible rush, anxious for greater developments and greater riches and so on, so that children have very little time for their parents. Parents have very little time for each other, and in the home begins the disruption of peace of the world.

If we really want to love we must learn how to forgive.

~Mother Theresa

back in the hospital

2009-01-11T19:46:00.000-08:00

He finds it disorienting. He forgets he is in the hospital. He wanders the halls, sometimes, looking for me. It breaks my heart to leave him. I want to remain by his side ... for all time. Living just gets in the way ... of duty.

complication: hematoma

2009-01-08T02:19:00.000-08:00

i just occurred to me. 72 years old. that's not far from 80. he's frail. so frail. it scares me. the complications continue. now ... on top of the inflammation from the arthritis, he's got a hematoma in his soleus muscle. try to treat the inflammation with blood-thinning anti-inflammatories and we get ourselves a nasty, very painful hematoma. it hurts him a great deal. and that hurts me.

my heart breaks.

enraged & grieving

2009-01-06T01:28:00.000-08:00

enraged ~ by the actions and words of some calculating, manipulative and controlling external family members. grieving ~ for the strong, sturdy man that has gone ... and the frail, weakened man who takes his place. alone ~ missing very much my husband. when god created me, he meant me to exist as a partner to another ... not to trudge through the trials of life alone. alone. alone. the tenuous routine i had developed to try to preserve my frail sanity, well that routine has failed under the pressures that impinge upon me here. i once have treaded very close to the sanity precipice in recent days ... the grace of a guardian angel pulls me back from that furious edge. i am tired. duty drives me ... some days provides me with the only reason to crawl from my bed. tomorrow the sun will rise, though. and a new day will dawn for me. along with a new realm of possibilities. and so it goes. tomorrow ~ feast of the epiphany. for me, these days ... each days seems an epiphany.

getting out

2009-01-01T20:13:00.000-08:00

we got out today. first time in weeks we got out just for the sake of getting out. nice. really nice. we had dinner at Smitty's Restaurant. Just the three of us. My brother taxi'd us around between his taxing other people. i continue to struggle with the dysfunctional dynamic which operates in mummy's family. it enrages me. and then it messes me up. wulf thinks i should return to him and dedicate myself to my life with him, but he understands why i stay, does not begrudge me, and will follow if that's what i truly want. i feel so much anger at so many things. and grief ... silent, still grief. at what deteriorates right before my eyes. i feel so spent and tired. i feel more acquainted with myself. i feel the writing muse stirring ... stirring.

how much

2008-12-31T13:49:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-30T21:07:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-29T16:31:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-28T01:37:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-12-26T00:01:00.000-08:00

Transcending Oneself

2008-12-21T19:02:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-17T01:18:00.000-08:00

~ Happy 40th Birthday to Wulfine ~

Can You Hear Me Humming, Mon Cher?

2008-12-11T16:23:00.000-08:00

"... 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..."

can destiny be altered?

2008-12-11T15:18:00.000-08:00

Artist: Alex Colville

As helpless witnesses to imminent disaster, we can never know the outcome of the situation depicted in this painting. Clearly, the train cannot deviate from its track, but the horse has a choice - we think. Is it mesmerized by the light? Is it challenging a foe? Is it aware of the terrible danger? If not, can the engineer stop the train in time? The animal may be driven by instinct, but the human faces an ethical dilemma: Is it worth stopping? How much does the death of a horse matter? Which is more dangerous - to brake and cause a possible derailment, or to keep going and risk a deadly collision? Can we halt time - the little that remains?

These questions I ponder. The dilemma depicted in the painting embodies the painful realities of living and being. I see the individual as that horse, galloping toward his destiny ~ the destiny train.

i am ~ je suis ~ ich bin

2008-12-07T00:01:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-21T00:06:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-17T19:44:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-16T00:46:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-14T00:08:00.000-08:00

~ 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

2008-11-12T10:27:00.001-08:00

Bus Stop - [The Hollies] - The Hollies

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 ~

2008-11-11T00:04:00.000-08:00

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

my front yard

2008-11-09T08:59:00.000-08:00

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?

2008-11-08T19:04:00.000-08:00

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

my polarity

2008-11-06T18:21:00.001-08:00

~ 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?

2008-11-05T10:58:00.001-08:00

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 ...

2008-11-04T21:51:00.001-08:00

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

2008-11-03T17:14:00.001-08:00

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 deviant ART

black cat

2008-10-31T19:19:00.001-07:00

	Ladytron - Black Cat

	Found at bee mp3 search engine

A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place
your sight can knock on, echoing; but here
within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze
will be absorbed and utterly disappear:

just as a raving madman, when nothing else
can ease him, charges into his dark night
howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels
the rage being taken in and pacified.

She seems to hide all looks that have ever fallen
into her, so that, like an audience,
she can look them over, menacing and sullen,
and curl to sleep with them. But all at once

as if awakened, she turns her face to yours;
and with a shock, you see yourself, tiny,
inside the golden amber of her eyeballs
suspended, like a prehistoric fly.

~Rainer Maria Rilke

... a strange pain inside ... ?

2008-10-30T09:24:00.001-07:00

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

lithium sunset songs
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concrete blonde - joey songs
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i wanna be sedated songs
Free songs | free Mp3s

happiness - a choice or a destination?

2008-10-28T22:28:00.001-07:00

	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?

holding on

2008-10-25T03:12:00.001-07:00

	Steve Winwood - Holding On

	Found at bee mp3 search engine

i am 39 and holding.
holding? holding what?
... well ... everything.
and then ... slowly,
i begin realizing that
i cannot hold onto everything
forever.
children exist for a purpose
beyond the realm of their parents.
and, sometimes,
marriages dissolve.
i will turn 40 this year.
how did i get here, so soon?
and ...
did i ever imagine myself,
at 40,
prowling the dating scene?
i gasp, then sigh,
as i limp back
to my own forgotten base
like a damaged warplane.

Bipolar Type 2 - I am

2008-10-18T17:25:00.000-07:00

like a pussy willow

2008-10-05T19:40:00.001-07:00

She's the colour of pussy willows.
She purrs like a motor.
She seems to see things that humans cannot.
She's a cuddle bug.
She knows when I'm sick ...
and then she stays by my side, touching me ...
and will not leave ...
One night, when I felt a little blue, she left that heart shape in her dish (no shit!) ...
She's got attitude.

She's my new kitty.
I call her Boo-Boo.