It has been 6 weeks since my last blog.
It is hard to write anything when you feel shame.
My last blog I stated that I would do some tasks that work on my Self. I did. I went to the local Christmas craft sale and promoted my art and did mini-card readings with chakra testing. I had some business and made some cash. I didn’t sell any art, but it was good just to share it. The more things I do that feel scary and then turn out to be ok makes me feel stronger. Continue reading
My father’s wife passed away today.
She had diabetes and dementia. And her health deteriorated as her dementia took over. Continue reading
I had an epiphany yesterday driving to the hockey arena. The arena has really wonderful people in it, but also very high-energy, competitive, controlling, manipulative people there too. It got me thinking about all the varied personalities on the way there for the second time that day because of our hockey tournament. Continue reading
I caught myself doing it again. I blog about stuff, but I try to not show you the real juicy stuff. I graze over my troubles with a dismissive hand gesture. Like no big deal, we all go through it, and then I move onto how I overcame my battle. Ughhhhh. Continue reading
Truthful blog means that you can’t lie. I did not see any shooting stars besides a bit of fire works but it was Canada Day here. So, I asked what can I write about in this post. I remembered the time I really did see a shooting star and felt that was the story to share with you.
As I was growing up my mom travelled a few times to visit her brothers in Toronto. Her one brother in particular she would stay with and would have such a great time with him and his wife. We never got to go on those flights. But, one time for a wedding we drove through the United States and came up around to Toronto. I got to meet my Aunt Julia. She was a spitfire of a woman. She would tell it like it is. She would feed you until you literally closed your eyes and your mouth. My mom thought the world of her.
I later travelled to Toronto on my own to spend some time visiting with my mom’s side of the family. I got to know them, but it isn’t easy. I don’t speak Polish and for some of them they don’t speak English. But, we still seem to communicate. I know enough words and can understand more then I can speak, so it works out.
We received an invitation to a 50th anniversary for my aunt and uncle. I told my husband we should go with the girls. We will make it a trip and go to this anniversary. We did. My aunt and her friends partied more then the young people. We went back to their home. My uncle was back not long after, but his wife was still dancing and drinking. We laughed because he lovingly mocked her dancing around and then swatted his hand and shook his head.
It was many years later and she passed away quite suddenly. I couldn’t fly out. We had some flowers sent. It was winter time and it was the day of the funeral. I was in our basement adding more wood to the fire. We have a wood room so there is plenty of wood packed in the house. I had thought of her many times through the day. I knew her family was grieving her loss. She was so much fun and so vibrant. But, for whatever reason I got this urge to open the basement door to the outside. I did. I looked at the starry sky and a shooting star passed just at that moment. Her name passed through my mind and I burst into tears. There she was. I closed the door and wept.
Thank you for the reminder of that story. She was a great lady and I am so glad she had this big life. She was that shooting star that night.
I’m at war. I slick my hair in a ponytail for efficiency plus the grease from not washing it helps hold it in place. My battle begins like every other day. I expect the people I love to lend a helping hand or give me a few kind words of support. It doesn’t happen. It instead gets ugly. Continue reading
Do you know hard it is to write the truth of your self to the couple people that read this? Extremely difficult. It is one of the reasons I can’t seem to post that often. I have a lot saved in draft but not published. Why? I’m scared. I am so worried that I am going to say the wrong thing. Or it is the right thing and then more is expected.But, it will be my truth. But, you may not agree with me or you will. You may think I’m crazy. I may start to doubt that thought and then I save it in draft and crisis is adverted.
I promised this blog of madness to be honest. I felt that I wanted it to be humorous and spiritual. I am a funny person. I find though that being funny and talking about spiritual things can seem counter productive. But, it seems to me that if I had instead become a monk and done the spiritual side only, then I know I would have longed to be free from that silence. I instead chose a life with a husband and children and in the depths of what many call a normal part of life. But, try as I might to be in awareness of life and have the stresses also has been challenging for the most part.
So, to break up this sometimes awkward feeling I have to tell you the truth of my struggles:
I meditate most mornings. I get up earlier to do this. So, most mornings I can get my mediation in and have a coffee and if the weather is great then I’ll go out on the deck and love the nature before its go time. But, occasionally my husband gets up a little after I do. I have my eyes closed and my headphones on. I am still, silent and present. Then a finger pokes me in the face.
I have read the most mind blowing book, or listened to a podcast that made me want to be a better person starting right now. I am basking in the light of my new found wondrous light and this euphoric state of being and then BANG! A door slams. Muffled argument in the bathroom downstairs between my daughters because one was looking at the other and not staying on their side of the sinks. I yell downstairs “Knock it off you two, or you’ll be sharing a room again!!”
I want to write this blog. My son sits on my lap for a hug. He starts to ask me what I’m doing. He starts to read what I’m writing. He says dad is so funny. He poked you in the face. Oh yes, really funny. He shakes his head about his sisters. He asks, are you trying to write more. I said yes. So, I write….. You need to wash your hands. They are dirty. You are rubbing your eyes with dirty hands. Your eyes are dirty. Please go wash them. You are making mommy dirty. He giggles and says I can’t walk anymore. My legs are broken. Of course they are.
Enlightenment at its finest.
I am still living in a bit of a harsh climate. There is not a lot of bug activity mostly because the temps are sitting around freezing. But, I knew you would think of something. So, I asked for you to show me butterflies in any means possible.
I then came home from work and I do not watch much TV. But, I did pause at the TV because my husband had on Three’s Company which I haven’t seen in some time. I laughed because there was so much sexual innuendo in that show and always a mix up with the room mates. This episode was Terry thought Jack was going to give a woman love lessons, but oops it was cooking lessons. Laughter ensues. In the apartment there is the big butterfly on the wall in the background. It caught my eye and I smiled. I don’t believe there is any coincidences. Continue reading
Oh mom, I think I jinxed myself with this one. I got the sign Pets and thought oh great, I never see animals and rarely my own dog. I work in an office all day. The weather was cold and it gets dark early. I wasn’t feeling it. And that is what ruined this one for me.
My dog acted super calm which was unusual but not really anything exciting. The kids said nothing about animals or wanting a pet or anything related to pets. I saw nothing strange with animals or strange behaviors.
The only saving grace was that my friend texted me several times saying her dog was barking at things that weren’t there. Barking into the house when no one was home. She acted unusual and my friend told me about it. It would make sense to do that to a person who is among animals all day unlike myself.
Thank you mom for everything. I think I was distracted with the noise of my human self. I’m over it now and am looking forward to the next one.
Mom, I’m sure you were around after your death. Did you hear me talking with Dad? I struggled so much in my own pain that it was hard to deal with his. He was looking to get remarried less then a year later and I was trying to rebuild. As I sit here now I wonder about you then. Were you hoping he would move on and find love again? Did that feel ok to you? It didn’t feel good to me at the time. I remember telling him that he could replace a wife but I could not replace a mother. We cried in your bedroom many times. It was in those sessions of our despair that we formed a bond, dad and I. Your death made us pool together and talk like we have never done before. Continue reading