Love Never Dies

Posted: March 6, 2019 in Uncategorized
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My grand daughter called upon me for advice. So here it is…Continue to be you. Don’t let anyone…including your mother cause doubt in the direction you’ve chosen. You’re a smart girl. She raised you to be smart, tough and confident. You know what you need, she will guide, but remember, she’s over-protective. On earth, our abilities often are muddled by great emotion and connection. We are best at speaking to those who are emotion-neutral. You’ve got this kiddo.

I didn’t get to meet my Grand daughter on earth, but I see her everyday, persevering in the life she chose. I missed her birth. Unfortunately, I passed forward five months before her grand entrance on earth. She is just one of my eight grand children from my last life. Oh, Georgie… I love my furry grandchildren, too.

A lot of pain followed me leaving. I’m sorry I had to go. I want my children to know that they’ve made me proud. It’s a little crazy where I am. You think the unknown is scary? Try dealing with full disclosure. You all grown and raising those beautiful children makes for a daily party and brag fest with the millions of other souls here. As you probably know, me and my sister are the loudest. I love you! Enjoy the life you live. I will see you all again one day!

Graphite swirls, lovely chords the making of a dream

Have them, perhaps want them

too afraid to move ahead

a soul’s journey endures nicks and bruises, sometimes…

No. A lot of times grief.

Pain. Tears. Currency for personal flight

The energy within is what brings war. life. punishments, or reward

choice

Move ahead one step

We have.

Blood creates life, takes it, molds it.

Not one or the other.

All.

This is not a fight for superiority

but for visibility

if you see us and trample over us that is on you

If you don’t see us

Pass right on through, that is on us

As we are all one

damage to one will be all our fall

So

See me, see you

and answer the call.

Nothingful: Continued

Posted: March 6, 2021 in Uncategorized

Emotionally dampening challenges include stepping in poop, getting rear-ended, battling a loved-one, slamming our elbow on a counter corner, or… you get the picture. For some reason we think we are either cursed or punished for something that happened or possible did. That is wrong. It’s not the shit that happens to us but what we do about that counts.

Three weeks ago, my car was hit and totaled. Two weeks ago, shingles attacked my thigh. And then, at my emotional lowest, I attacked (verbally) my daughter. The subject matter is of no consequence. She’s an adult. And If I’ve learned anything, shouting does not make for a conversation, and it is her right to learn from Success and failure on her won. Mother’s know… letting failures happen to their child is excruciating.. Let me say, that if this by-standing influencer took responsibility for their actions, lifted some of the burdens, showed any amount of respect for their partner…well, I’d still be concerned… but less so. SEE that’s me, myself and I wrongfully putting myself in her shoes (while she’s still in them, and trying to force her to walk MY way. This is where my emotions muddy the clarity of the whole situation. I walked away from my outburst feeling demoralized and doubt-filled. Ugh. The overcharged battle I fought turned inward and vicious. Rage cut deep into my ego, causing it to lash out against everything I’ve strived for in my life.

That’s where I lost me.

.I am not my daughter. My daughter is not me.

That night, I fought for the Nothingful. Damn that’s hard when it’s your child your “trying to save from themselves”. It felt like a part of me went dark. Empty. The resulting pain from total disconnection is brief but essential. You know you’re alive, want to exist, but for a brief time, every emotion you’ve ever felt, each piece of information thought you knew inside and out, all the layers of other people’s beliefs, desires, dreams…drop away. And that’s when the truth of just me emerged. Unsettling as the epiphanies were, I understood. Not only is my daughter not me, she isn’t the list of adjectives I believed made up her person. I knew, at once that despite outside influences, including myself, she must decide who she is and what she wants all on her own. Her path is not for me to pave. The Nothingful helped me resolve my inner angst. This understanding kept the needless burden of recreating who she is, from crushing my soul. Ego pushes us to be unnecessarily selfish. Emotions fuel ego. Working on my happiness, path, and clarity ARE good selfish motives. How can you tell the difference? Does your happy depend on your own actions or others? Peace!!! My journey continues. Tell me about yours in IMs

I call it nothingfull. Sounds weird, I know. It’s a personal inside myself place I go to regroup; a type of meditation that allows for all and nothing to combine intrusive and my personal energies. Nothingfull helps me see through the clutter, grooming, layers of fodder other people have placed on me to validate themselves while destroying what I want. The universe sent signs. Showed rather than told me the path to take. After several failed attempts to open my eyes, one hit me square in the face. The universe forced a split second choice for me to act or let go. I let go. The single moment, none emotion action, that led immediately to a saving force, left me with a lot to think about. Unfortunately, I thought, pondered, and meditated on the lesson but not what I’d learned. And then it happened again. Only this time my life was put in peril, imminent death. Split second action or not? I let go, and reacted in exactly the right way. The instant turning of the steering wheel and protective guidance by an otherworldly presence saved my life. The lesson continued months later, with as usual, an unexpected challenge. With head-on collision a few seconds away, I let go, watched in slow motion, the speeding car coming at me (he was straddling the yellow line, blasting his way ahead of the flow of cars on his right). Nowhere to go, I watched him approach, until the last moment when I reached forward and turned the wheel ever so slightly (had to avoid the stream of oblivious motorists on my right) and managed to put just enough room between us. I watched this young angry man race by me and felt nothing. No anger. No fear. I went home as if nothing happened. The next day, I told my partner, Billy.

Can you…live in the moment? Breathe through one minute of self awareness, without thinking of anything or anyone else? Focus solely on who you are and what you’re feeling based on your desires, alone? Can you do it for one minute without distraction?

She’s Sniffing Plastic Roses

Posted: February 14, 2021 in Uncategorized

A drum roll cascades, flowing through a field of plastic roses

their fragrance only imagined in her wildest dreams

Her beauty lies within and without touching all but one

He buys her plastic flowers with her blood, bones, life

but she delights in them anyway

despite his emotional flight

Eyes closed, mind wiped, she sniffs his plastic flowers

her mind in a euphoriant respite

Witnesses die in their appeal for hours

hoping one day for her mind to open up.

Control: The Myth

Posted: December 17, 2020 in Uncategorized

When you hit a parked car, did you wish you had control of your car? You steer, accelerate, brake, turn, stop, go, but when it really counts, none of that matters. Black ice can and will ruin a perfectly acceptable belief. Don’t worry. No one owns the right to control. Not you, me, or whatever god you believe in. Control doesn’t exist. Laws exist. They’re written down and mostly observed. Mostly. Sometimes they’re not penalized for breaking. So much for laws. They’re someone else’s rules…right? Why should we adhere?

Murder. “Thou shall not kill.” Well, Oh gee. Thanks. How many people die at the hands of others each day? We can’t even say we have control over whether we can kill someone. I certainly can’t. Before children, I didn’t think I had it in me. Now… well. I think I do. And who’s to say, with absolute certainty, that we have control of our own reactions? Police murder. Priests rape. Governments fail. Police, priests, and governments are sworn to protect. Uh huh. People forget that they are people like me and you. Some are: selfish, criminals, sociopaths, narcissists, kind, compassionate, giving, taking, on and on. You see what I’m getting at. There’s no magic device that brands labels on everyone’s foreheads telling what each of us is truly capable of doing.

Choice is key, but still a crapshoot. And there’s always a choice. They may stink, but… Still you have a choice. Control is lacking in the outcome. Someone could point a gun to your head, a knife to the throat of someone you love and demand you make a choice as to who lives. Both choices suck, but…still you’re making a choice. An extreme example? Yup. You’d be surprised how many people feel the same trepidation with more mundane crossroads. Both answers feel like the end of the world, so it comes down with, which can you live with that will cause the least amount of pain. Which sacrifice are you willing to make?

Control is perception. Someone with knowledge, education, experience, tells you to do something, or not to do something that will save you or someone else’s life, for instance seatbelts, car seats, safety regulations, jumping off a bridge, sky diving without a parachute, sticking to a speed limit, stopping at red lights and stop signs… so on and so forth, and you follow or don’t follow their law, recommendation, or warning,— your choice/reaction and subsequent consequence despite reasoning, excuse, or perspective—is on you.

People say fear is a controlling factor in how we are manhandled. Biologically, fear is a warning for caution. We feel fear, fight, flight, freeze, but it’s our internal system that reacts to terror… not fear. In most cases we feel fear of an up and coming event, a choice to stay put or move forward, driving for the first time, walking into a room with drunk people and not feeling safe (fear of personal harm), in terms of our current predicament )wearing masks, social distancing, being careful to not spread a deadly disease to the old, immunocompromised, already sick…getting them sick and possibly killing them. That’s fear…caution… perhaps a little bit of empathy and compassion. No one is hold a gun to your head…which is where terror (fight, flight, freeze is an appropriate biological response.

Do what will help others, or what may help others. Figure out why you rally against what you think is control. Sometimes rethinking a belief you were taught to fight against is a personal day terror rather than fear, a warning…caution. Look around. Talk to people. Let go of those internal burdens, restraints, voices coming from others. You’d be surprised at the moments of peace you feel at those times. We may not have control over them but at reprieve that allows comparisons, free thoughts and if I dare say… freewill.

So control… no such thing.

Respect. Does it storm at home? We’re not conceived parents, guardians, or public authorities. The ideals, attitudes, and motivations come from a variety of minds. Love (if applicable) is where our grooming begins. Respect is earned, not freely given. In the void of intimate connection and biological understanding, compassion ceases to exist, paving the way for harsh judgment. We project internal disappointment onto others. Mirrors are not reflections of ourselves, but of what we want to be, forcing others to appear as the image you cannot achieve. Self-loathing spreads from the heart to the mind to darken our souls. Some know it as a warning. Others use the deceptions and distortions of their true selves to burden whole societies, ultimately creating ways to oppress those who refuse their misguidance. Respect dies when society adapts to false beliefs regarding skin color, sexual orientation, wealth, poverty, religion, instead of praising our eclectic differences as strengths as a whole. Pay attention to the world around you. Change is coming to create chaos before peace. Roles are played. Sacrifices are made. In the end, born from blood and suffering, a new and better world will emerge. Hate will return as the boogeyman from the past.

First, I want to point out that I struggle with the concept of “A God” You’re thinking that something happened in my life to question a divine-intersex’s existence. Yes, but it’s not what you think. The battle has to do with the use of the word vs action.

Everywhere I go, I hear, “Thank God.” A baby falls out of a three story building and lives, by a feat of heroism or—dare I say—a miracle. Who do we blame when the baby dies? We don’t scream at the devil. And what about those people who saved the baby? They are thanked but only as a tool of God. People devote many years of their lives studying ways to save human lives. Most police officers understand that their job sometimes require the ultimate sacrifice. Our military suffers the most yet when they manage to survive and make it home, God is nowhere to be seen, to ensure the healing and gratitude they earned.

Now I want to tell you a story/joke. You may have heard it somewhere before, but It’s a story/joke that’s stuck with me. I, of course, am adding my own twist to make a deeper point.

A man stood on his rooftop surrounded by rising water. He prayed to God. To help him.

A man in a rowboat came by and told him to hop in. The man refused, saying God would save him. The water rose higher. A man in a motor boat came by and told him to hop in. Again, the man refused saying that God would save him. Just as a helicopter flew to him and hovered a few feet above his head, the water rose up over the man’s ankles. A rope ladder was thrown down to dangle just able the man’s head. A woman yelled for him to climb up and instead of grabbing hold of the ladder. He pushed it away and said, “I don’t need your help. God will save me. The helicopter pilot flew away.

The man drowns and goes to heaven where he meets god. The man is furious. He yells, “I had faith in you! I had faith that you would save me, and  instead you let me drown!” God smiles and says, “I sent you a rowboat, a motor boat, and a helicopter.”

“But that was not you,” the man whined.

“Of course it was,” God replied in a voice that projected a murmur of many tones, female and male. “Every choice you make brings you closer to us or further from us. It is not the acts thrust upon you, but the reaction to those acts that define who you are. Together we are invincible, apart we are vulnerable. That is why we test each other. We are the good actions and the bad actions that stand at every crossroad. On earth, our choices affect all like they do here, but there on, on earth, you think you’re alone and that makes you prey to fear which leads to hate which causes pain to millions who you refuse to see or know. If on earth you can see others outside of your skin, then ascension has begin. For, if you can feel beyond the limits of your body you will never feel alone again.

“What does this mean for me?”

“Back down you go.”

”Noooooooo.”

Having been to many medical specialists, I know who cares rather than see me as a statistic. I change doctors and specialists when they make me feel like a blob of flesh riding on the conveyor belt. A few doctors lost my trust just by their pernicious wording as pertaining to my life expectancy. For instance, the breast surgeon who cut away me cancer (And breasts) spoke only about my 80% chance to live. I changed doctors and my new doctor gave me a hug. I am not a statistic. I’m a person with emotions. So. Here are some people that Have earned my respect.

My sister: We had a rocky start. She is day and I am night but we are true family  linked by twilight. Our children brought us closer, but my cancer revealed the depth of our connection. During chemotherapy, though I looked like the walking dead, with no hair, she called me up every day to walk. I know, now, because of our stressful childhood, that she is good at hiding her emotions. I learned last year that our father’s antics hurt her emotionally. We all suffered differently. It’s sad we had to do it alone until then. Anyway, she kept me going through a hard time and I can’t thank her enough.

My brother George: Keeps me on my toes. I call him my human autocorrect. He’s hysterical and so fast with his wit. He’s there when I need to vent. He doesn’t mince words or placate me, and tells me what I should hear rather than what I want to hear. George was there The Whole time during our mother’s illness. Stayed by her side when the rest of us couldn’t be there. I thank him dearly for that. His husband is the straight-man in their relationship….LMAO see what I did there?

John: Johnny boy. No longer a boy, but a man with two beautiful, smart, and amazing daughters. He’s loyal to the core, despite being betrayed by a man who hid his true nature from John, for years. Since I started caring for his daughters, I’ve gotten to know the man and stopped seeing him as a boy all together. He works his ass off and takes care of his family.  His children are his Breaths and his wife, a wonderful strong woman, is his heart. It’s wonderful to see him mentally escape the corruption that was our father. I know that emotionally he still struggles, but he’s winning the fight. We have a family history, on our father’s side, of a cycle of breaking up families. He single handedly broke the cycle last year. John Weissinger is an amazing person indeed.

Jan my friend: Single-handedly restored my faith in friendships. She speaks her mind, understands and voices her vulnerabilities. We can agree to disagree and there are no requirements to being her friend. What a nice change of pace. I’m not perfect. I make mistakes. I get emotionally all warrior at times, more and more infrequently now, but she doesn’t attack me because of it. She offers different perceptions and strategies to go about facing whatever it is disabling my intellectual brain. I love her for it.

Shout out: To Melissa, my physical therapist who, with an amazing team, got me looking forward to being tortured( LMOA) and walking again. I had a knee replacement last July. I knew I needed to exercise to get my knee working again, but I didn’t realize the physical and emotional toll it would have on me. You get the physical part, I’m sure, but emotional? Let me explain…During Chemo your body is poisoned and your insides start to mush up because of opoptosis (Cell death) all you want to do is sleep. The pain from the knee replacement caused that same reaction. I wanted to sleep. Didn’t want to go out, but walked anyway because… well, I did want to walk again. And then I started Physical therapy. Melissa turned that pain into motivation. She treated me like a human being. Talked about her life and her struggles, both good and bad, and made me feel like I was going to a coffee house with a friend, (replace the coffee with painful stretches) instead of see pain as a negative. I think only people who’ve been through this truly understand what I’m saying. Like I mentioned previously, I only stick with people who are true to their purpose, themselves and their lives. People who are heroes in their fields because they care. From day one, I knew she did.

More to come…. People are inspiring me a lot lately.