je pense, donc je suis

or, for those who prefer latin: "... cogito; ergo sum ..."


things i'm thinkin' about this week ~
expand the post to see what

1. ok. so the dollar's reached parity. big FAT deal. i mean, it's spent decades as an undervalued currency ... now its going to spend some time as an overvalued one. c'mon, let's not fool ourselves into thinking that the strength of the dollar has as much to do with the soundness of canada's economy, as it does with the weakness of america's economy.
2. why does the usa call itself america? i never understood that. aren't canada and mexico part of north america, too? does calling itself america intend to assert some conceited notion as being the most important ingredient of NA?
3. amadinejed is visiting nyc this week. and there are lame asses all over the place with placards saying stupid sh1t like 'we don't support terrorism' ... ! lies! y'all do ~ them's some terrorist-like behaviour in israel, ain't it? and the usa is funding those terrorist that i will call zionists. heck, i guess that makes the usa zionist, doesn't it? so ~ how is it that a country that supports the most blatant example of terrorism this era has seen ... likes to tell itself we don't support terrorists ... of course you do! silly americans ~ tricks are for kids. and ~ if you disagree ... please tell me how that's different. maybe canadians should hold similar protests when dubya comes to visit ...?
4. if we legalized heroine, we would steal some serious thunder from the taliban, who apparent have funded their resurgence/come-back with poppy money. doesn't it just make sense? legalize all the illicits ~ and you will instantly remove all the crime from that trade ... look to history if you think i'm full it sh1t on that one. how well has prohibition really worked for humanity in the past?
5. i've thought about truth ~ whether its absolute or relative ... or ... what. i reject the notion of absolute truth. the universe expands, time passes, knowledge evolves. we seek truth via knowledge, which we acquire through our senses. perception ~ that's the source of living truth for each of us. however, something must bind the matter and energy of the universe to itself. yes ~ universal truth. a realm to which, i suppose God belongs. and the immutable laws of the universe. and we, humanity, reside at the intersection of universal truth and that relative, personal truth which our perceptual senses have conjured.
6. how many times has the creator unfolded and folded up the world? there's a theory out there that says the expansion of the universe has begun slowing ... that one day in the future it will stop and that will mean time will stop ... the universe will end ~ collapse into itself and become another black hole, from which ... eventually, another big bang will emerge. i imagine, then ... that we aren't the first of our kind ... that there have been other universes and humanities ...
7. i got a beautiful, handmade scarf from cora last evening. i love it so much, i fell asleep with it on! i will post a picture in the coming days.
8. aside from the scarf, i allow myself one luxurious indulgence ~ estee lauder's pleasures exotic perfume. yes, i got a guy that brings me perfume ... just because he loves me.
   
9. i find myself struggling with tolerance of the intolerant ... tolerance of the rude. oh dear! its so very challenging ... like playing tug of war with a giant bull mastiff (my ego being the giant mastiff) and sometimes not winning. awareness ~ the most efficacious weapon against intolerance.
   

... unravelled? no, not quite!

Dante graciously acknowledged my need to write this post ... and so, here's another interlude from the Dante series ...

Not quite, but almost. Unravelled, I mean. I stemmed the tide, by my simple awareness of its existence, I stemmed the tide of emotion that threatened to drown me right there, in the cafe. Here's what happened ...

I stopped at my favourite cafe on my way to school late this morning. I met a woman who had her dog tied up just at the cafe's entrance, near an old wooden bench that had a skirting around it, to prevent anyone from seeing underneath. I remembered thinking to myself that I, when my dog lived, would have decided against leaving him anywhere like that, for fear that another would take him. And ... wouldn't that just serve me right, for leaving such a prized gem out there, for anyone to take.

I digress ... the woman ... in the smoking room, she talked about her very mischievous dog ~ the same sort as Trout ~ to whom our beloved she/k9/chickory belongs. She told us how her dog liked to get into her clothes - particularly the underwear, and wear it like a hat on her head, and prance about the house. She told spoke of the challenges of raising such a dog ~ one so smart ... that conventional training methods (most of which involve manipulation of the power-dynamic) simply have no efficacy on such a clever creature. And how ... she, as a dog owner, felt so unprepared for such. The dog required constant engaging ... so smart, that dog.

And then ... the lady left the smoke room. Completely coincidentally, I left shortly thereafter. And just as I stopped to fuss with my change purse, etc., prior to exiting the cafe, I heard this lady scream. She screamed a scream that got everyone's attention. She screamed a scream that moved me so much, to call it any emotion would merely diminish what she screamed in that scream. I felt the torment of all the souls in hell, in her scream. Why she screamed really has little bearing to the story. Briefly, I'll just say, she thought her dog had gotten stolen, when in fact, she did not see him cowering under the skirted bench.

The point I want to make? My acute reaction to that scream. I knew immediately ~ her dog went missing ~ what triggered the scream. I knew that despair, that anguish. I caught myself, on the precipice of sanity. For a moment. Until I remembered ... THINK. What's going on? What was going on? My heart raced, my core shook, and I could not grasp the coins I sought to count in my change purse. I felt a tidal wave building ... of what emotion I cannot name. Something .... which my brain threatened to manifest as tears. Why? Why did I feel this way? No reason, really. And just that very thought process allowed me to experience the feelings I'd apparently channeled, without immersing myself in them ... without drowning in them. I did not cry. I did not suppress the urge to cry. I disarmed it.

And so, shaken, but not stirred ... like a dry martini I walked myself out of that place. And contemplated the lesson. I feel my feelings. They do not feel me.

words that remind me

plasma - the milk of blood. the guts of it. plasma serves no metabolic nutritional purpose. but without it, we die. its what gives our blood volume. upon volume sails life. life -- this IS life. living. breathing. but not just that. its having awareness that i breathe. that my heart beats in step. that my blood flows. a true gift. living awareness. awareness that this life ... this existence ... does not define me. and i do not define it. rather, i serve as a vessel ... a conduit for the energy of existence. plasma reminds me that i do not own my existence ... i do not own my my life. my hunger ... my thirst ... my [rare] sexual urges ~ i own none of these. they all emanate from the very same source out of which the plasma flows ... the energy of life flows~that ultimate supernal source. yes ... plasma reminds me of all this.

weave - creating a complex pattern from a number of interconnected elements; creating fabric by interlacing long threads; taking evasive action. weave has at least 3 distinct meanings. however, each of these meanings shares the common thread of creating something complex from what's around - in the immediate environment. so - a weaver creates cohesive complexity from fragmented simplicity. this word weave reminds me that, as a human ... as a woman ... as a mother ... i have found myself, repeatedly weaving ... weaving ... weaving. and in so doing, adding another row of stitches to this grand matrix of existence that flows through, within and around me. the word weave speaks to me in this way.

rhetorical questions

1. why do we live in a society that cares more about how sanjaya's wearing his hair this week, or who will win american idol or what will happen to jack bauer next season ... than about how many humans die at the hands of war, waste, and greed all aaround the world?
2. why do we hold in such high esteem fictional characters, like 'house', who execute behaviours and clinical decisions that would surely get him a suspended license (or disciplined/demoted/censured at the very least)? why is an arrogant, rude prick such a tv hero? is that the behaviour we value - the supreme asshole behaviour? when such a show gains such popularity, isn't that what we're telling our kids?
   
3. why does the country that fluff's itself up on the notion that freedom and democracy have made it successful, have such a stupid dictatorial regime at its helm?
4. where are the weapons of mass destruction? (i think they're in the white house and pentagon - and they don't look at all like what y'all thought they would)
5. why is the us coast guard firing live rounds 100 metres away from orca whales and the tour boats observing them?
6. why does fuel cost 1.20 per litre?
7. why are there still people living in new orleans without infrastructure, so long after katrina? how come a war plan can get executed faster than a disaster rebuilding plan? is there a plan? dare i ask?
8. how come so many revolutionary wannabees think helping eradicate poverty involves anything overseas?
9. why is vancouver building a subway line that links vancouver to the airport, when in the pre-olympic era, residents clearly indicated they did NOT want one?
10. why is it that, post-olympic bid, all of a sudden the [so-pathetic-it-has-already-caved-in-once-under-the-weight-of-all-that-construction- equipment] sea to sky highway (the only highway to whistler from here!) gets rebuilt, when residents have been begging for this for years?
11. why must all the summer fashions for women involve baring as much as much skin as possible, or vulgarly displaying as many curves as possible? do i really need to see that black thong - and a hint of its waistband peaking over top of your pants that look like yer mom left 'em in the dryer too long - ya got peaking thru those tacky, too-tight white capri pants of yours? do i need to see that belly ooze out from that crop top the store never shoulda sold ya? pulllleeeeese! someone call the fucking fashion police?
    
12. whatever happened to leaving something to the imagination? like - doncha know that a guy finds it much more intriguing - much sexier - seeing just bared ankles and bared feet, rather than seeing half of an ass cheek hangin' out of a pair of shorts?
    
13. why is pot illegal? when studies have proven, time and again, that its less harmful than either nicotine or alcohol?
14. why has every human out there convinced him or her self s/he needs a cell phone? get over yourselves! what did you do in the 70s, 80s, 90s? before the advent of cell phones?
15. what's the big fuss about organic food anyway? if organic means you only use 'natural' substances in the growing process, such as shit ... to fertilize ... then count me out. i will take my chances with cancer, or whatever weird disease i will get from the chemical fertilizers in the non-organic food that's already out there. why do i have this impression that organic = fast track to e. coli? hmmmm ... perhaps because e. coli's likely in the shit that gets used to 'naturally' fertilize the organic food? hmmm - do i want e. coli? no. NO. if given a choice i would pick chemotherapy and radiation over dialysis ... just a thought. things aren't ever as they seem, are they?
16. when will i hear about the by-law that will ban repressed anger? i have heard about the smoking ban, the trans-fat ban, the plastic bag ban, the ipod ban, even ... well, given that it's the single biggest causative risk factor in every major disease that shortens human life ... shouldn't we pay some mind to our friend repressed anger? or do we like the fact that it exists, because (among other things) all those insane video clips of all the road raging drivers amuse us?
17. why have humans become so fucking lazy and complacent? why do we need drive thru's? why do we need to drive our fucking cars so fucking much? why do we need to destroy everything, consume everything, pluck everything away from itself? will we evolve from that twisted little child-mind that gets off on pulling the wings from living flies? if so, when?
18. what's with reality tv? ain't reality real enough?
19. why do little children think that the white doll - as compared to the black doll - is the nicer doll? does not that disturb any of you? why have we cultivated a information/entertainment media that sends messages of inferiority to ordinary people who don't look like they've spend 50,000 dollars on tanning salons and plastic surgery? why do we expose our children to such messages? why does this generation grow up hating the way it looks?
    
20. how can love grow, in the shadow of self loathing?

any more to add to this list? feel free to add yours in a comment ...

the matrix of truth

do you want the red pill, or the blue pill?

like neo, we all must decide this for ourselves. its a lesson in matrix philosphy - the notion that the manner in which one seeks and views the truth colours the lenses through which s/he engages life. this question - about the red and blue pill - asks us about reality, truth and its pursuit. do we blindly accept whats been given us? what's been taught us? or do we want to press beyond ....? despite what we may find there ....?

for humanity its an eternal question.

the blue pill represents the status quo - the pressure to accept the currently held belief of truth, or risk the label renegade and the ensuing ostracism: "... many people are not ready to be unplugged, and many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system that they will fight to protect it.”

the red pill represents pursuit of truth ... at all costs. it symbolizes the cliche: 'be careful what you wish for. you just might get it.' because once s/he beholds truth, one cannot retreat from it. to seek truth does not imply one will uncover reality that one can live with. yet, live with it, one must. therin lies the rub.

indeed, life goes on. its a gift - a breathing, responsive stream of energy that flows independently of our wants and desires and petty frustrations. living = experience + knowledge. existence = experience - knowledge. trinity said to neo, “the Matrix cannot tell you who you are.” so ... that's the question, then. 'who we are' versus the mere 'that we are.' do we feel satisfied sufficiently with the fact of our existence? or ... do we also need meaning to bring light to the painting? only you can answer that. just as only i can answer it.

emerging, alone, from the darkness

alone in the darkness. illusory - this solitude. and - all the while - my lucidity regarding said illusion remained clear and strong. still, an immense and incredibly powerful and extremely debilitating sense of sorrow - grief, intense grief - settled upon my soul. and paralyzed my spirit. much the same way a tiny spot of dampness renders an fresh bag of brown sugar inert and impenetrable. like that. i could not enter myself. i could not extract myself. trapped - this self of mine - beneath a thick, icy layer of flaming and poisonous grief.

cuddly as a jellyfish. that's how martin described me late thursday evening when i began to emerge from the grip of the devil of darkness that lurks within me. we laughed. and now i have yet another clever and descriptive phrase to ad to my bylines! and, i do no feel ashamed to admit its true. 'cuddly as a jellyfish.'

once again, i released myself from the darkest grips of that devil that lurks inside my soul. but, fools yourselves not! s/he always resides close @ hand. ever close. ever longing. ever restless. indeed, susan - its like having the devil inside you. and you know? sadly, i have grown to believe that it never goes away. that, those of us who house this devil ... must learn to balance its demands with the rest of life for ... all of this earthly existence.



i have spend my time cut off from the collective energy source called the internet contemplating death, life, knowing.

death & life - i wonder - have we got it all wrong? does artificial extension of life really honour its sacredness? what if we have ignored g-d's call for a soul? what if we have extended some lives beyond their ethereal purpose? what if ....? we have not heard g-d's call? because we have busied ourselves too much with our own call? what if ...?

death and dying - what has occurred to many of you only in light of baron's untimely death has rattled around in my heart and soul for a while now - for many years, in fact. the humbling reality of mortality. ours - humanity. for each of us - the end could come at any time. how do you really know you will see that buddy again? or your son, daughter, husband? you don't really. you just develop a certain amount of complacency to hopefully obscure the discomforting sorrow of reality. one never knows. death comes. she does not discriminate. at times we can cheat her - but only @ some expense, the cost of which will only become apparent much later down the time line of our existence. do not mistake this doomsayer-ish-ness for the nihilism of depressive thinking. its not. its a realization of the sorrow that plays a role in the circle of life. humanity likes to deny death. in doing so, we deny life. in doing so, we kill with abundance.

knowing - so few of us really possess knowing. i mean, really possess it down to our viscera, feel it boiling in our very bone marrow. many of us think we know ... oh so much more than we do. 'ignorance is bliss.' true - this old adage, in a surreal sort of way. i think, when one really submits oneself to the humbling reality of the delicate mortal finiteness of existence on earth, one cannot help but feel a constant twinge of sorrow for what loss exists somewhere in the moment. forget not, dear reader, that the circle of life continues to spin - whether pride and fear obscure your view of said wheel or not.

we think ourselves so smart. yet - we do not know. the birds know. the trees know. the grass knows. the magnolias and the cherry trees know. the willow trees know. the hyacinths, the tulips and the daffodils know. the see knows. and it waits, so patiently. the mountains, brood in their knowing. and still, we do not know. those of us that do know - that feel this ancient, silent, mystical knowledge brewing in our very bone marrows - we bear the label unstable, odd, eccentric, mentally ill, even.

i know. i feel this knowledge boiling in my blood. a silent, constant knowledge. it cannot speak as loudly and forcefully as power, or glamour, or ego, or vanity. it cannot speak that language. the knowledge i feel speaks a silent, ancient and enigmatic dialect. it takes gentle patience and solitude of self to decipher its code. its a labour of love. and a life long work in progress.

~here's a poetic musing of our long walk in the sunshine~

an honour guard of grand old cypress and pine trees
protect the dead from the living
an explosion of verdant textures, shades and blooms
tickle my senses
out of the corner of my eye - a late bloomer -
a surreal sepia image - a suspension of time and space:
a young tree, with delicate chestnut buds
and a strange patch of dessicated, pale brown leaves
a chorus of ravens serenades us with their stuttered
and angular sounding spring melody
the sparrows, the starlings -
the blossom-scented breeze carries their songs, too.
its raining the loveliest kind of rain shower
any princess could have on a warm, sunny day -
a delicate and steady shower of the tiniest pink blossom petals.
i breathe. deeply.
i inhale. inspiration.
i exhale. more inspiration.
i live. deeply.
intensely.
down to the cellular level.
i live.
what a gift i possess.
life.
and what a grace -
to know.

perspectives

[1.] two families - one of them a 60-something yr old couple - lost their houses and all possession inside to a landslide in mission, bc. as a result of our latest deluge rain, coupled with the fact that natural springs run in that land underneath the houses, the houses became dangerously perched on the precipice behind their properties - overlooking a creek - when their foundations gave way. residents did not regain access to their homes to retrieve any possessions. insurance does not cover acts of nature. the houses got torn down, while their owners watched, helplessly. the main who operated the construction thingy that destroyed the homes felt .... saddened that he hadda trash someone's home.

[2.] seven years ago a man lost his wife - 7 months pregnant - when her car got rear ended by some man driving @ over 120 kph. a 7 month pregnant woman, killed en route to shopping for her unborn baby. ironic. and cruel. the man who killed the woman? alive and well. and epileptic that lied about his seizures to get his revoked driver's license back.

[3.] princes harry and william may have the world as their oyster. but they have no diana. i wonder why that reporter/photographer was surprised at harry's reaction to the latest intrusion, given the paparazzi's involvement in their mother's death. i wonder if sick paparazzi curiosity will destroy these two, also.

[4.] baby dannie-lynn may be one rich little girl, but she just lost her family. and her mother, who wanted so much to be like norma jean baker, died from an accidental OD of exactly the same drug that killed norma jean. chloral hydrate.

sooooo ... ? what's the point here?

be careful what you wish for ... its really best not to complain. because, when you think about it ... we got nuthin' to complain about. NUTHIN'. its time the world started to see itself in positive language and perspective. like -- don't tell me what you can't do ... don't like ... wish you could change ... tell me what you can do ... do like ... and what you CAN change.

and .... wanting?
as in the covetous sort of want
that makes a human
spiteful and jealous?

its the worse sort of complaining.

get your FREE complaint free bracelet here.

the idea being, ya wear the bracelet on the same wrist for 21 days (apparently that;s how long it takes for humans to form a habit) and whenever you notice yourself about to complaint or complaining you move the bracelet to the other wrist and start your 21 days over again. the aim's to wear it without changing wrist for 21 days in a row. to change a person's thinking perspective ... and hopefully make said person complaint free.

interesting huh? i know this sort of stuff works. martin always has coached me to use positive-oriented language (ie avoid use of not, don't, can't in favour of language with more positive connotations). it changes one's thinking ... to have to change the way one articulates oneself.

try it. just .... reach out and try it! i dare you. i will.

photo by flavio cb -- flickr creative commons

the blindness of abundance

an eagle in brackendale, british columbia
photo by living wilderness and found on flickr

[NB: part 2 of silver harbour will return tomorrow ...
this post, inspired by AUNTY,
just demanded itself and so i share it with you.]

"I'se wearin' these ashes for the times I did the least I could git away with when I shoulda and coulda done a heap more. Fer the days I'se mewlin' around thinkin' about what I did not have when I have such a wealth of love and light and laughter that I need ter count my blessin's, but was blind to 'em. These ashes keep me from flights of fancy about my own worthiness.

"Why Lent is a time we'uns is called away from our self-absorption, excesses, and petty complaints about each 0ther. We'uns is called out of our dark lairs, out of our comfort zones, out of the moldy corners where we hide what we don't want to admit about ourselves--Ya' could say Lent is a house cleanin'! We are called in from the cold, off the moor, out of alienation, away from the precipice.....invited to come sit by warmth and light of the hearth, be kind to our neighbor, do good to our crotchety boss, forgive our mother-in-law, encourage the fainthearted, console the grieving....see how we can be good and useful to those around us.

"These ashes remind me that I did not make myself ...

a certain aunty belle wrote this ... on mardi gras. sure ... we all know mardi gras - which means 'fat tuesday.' and which really is the party to end all parties .... before the more serious and contemplative lenten season descends upon us. but .... do those of us who believe (or even sort of believe) really stop and think about exactly how lent translates itself ... manifests itself in our everyday existence?

i have been around this place for over a year now. and have known you all in some capacity or another. but ... in all my self absorbed, dark-stroking, alienated and arrogant posturing ... i failed to know you, really. the simplest ... most obvious little details, little hints of you ... that fell within my grasp throughout this past year ... i am ashamed to admit i did not see these. i, roxanne, who does not miss a beat, or so they say. and i have been blind. to the splendour that's so close, its gonna poke me in the eye! weeeeellll ... the dawn breaks ... AND ... i see ... little by little. ever-so-slowly. i see.

thank you all. as i battle my own crazy-making demons, i want to be a better blogging neighbor ... friend ... human ... and ... helper to you all. the cravings for the drug are strong. they are purely emotional. pyschological ... they leave me feeling like the little child that's been deserted. i know i am not that child. and i am certainly anything but alone. still, the funk of all that is lurking.

my rosary sits on the windowsill. like some sort of talisman or dreamcatcher. will it catch the bad energy and spirits? only if i use it. [here's a confession - when i am in the throws of physical pain ... or abject fear ... i unconsciously begin reciting the "hail mary ..." - its not even a conscious choice i make. its something i just do.] when i venture outside ... i gaze up at our lady of the holy rosary. perched way up high, on the grand stone wall of the cathedral ... centred between the bell towers. she's wearing her golden crown and she's clutching her golden rosary. i gaze ... and wonder ... and contemplate. in wonderment. and awe. i sometimes do not know that i know what i believe.

what i believe. what i believe? its .... all of YOU.
and ... also, that dog is g-d backwards.
and ... that this is not a coincidence.
for, a sacred, special spirit lurks within dog.

a portrait of my late 'brownie'
artist: laura pelick

a thought in my heart

i sneak a gaze at his picture
every now and then
just to remind myself
that he does exist -
tho, truth be told,
he seems too perfect
and beautiful to be real.
i FEEL his real-ness.
and wish he absences
did not seem so lengthy
and ... lengthy.
i long for you, A ...
not in a possessive
way ... just ...
my presence longs
for yours
and i dream of the day
when you and i
will find ourselves
sitting across the table
from one another -
enchanted by one another,
immersed, in one another.
that day will come.
A - i know you are out there
i know you will come back to me
i know. i feel. i long ....
to tell you that sometimes
i feel as though
i do not deserve you.
_ _ _ _ lives here.