Disabled Angel

The Myth of the Twin Flame

May 21, 2014 / Disabled Angel

I like my men like I like my cars….European. – Angèle Beaudoin

That is what I am telling myself … for now, anyway.

I have driven Volvo, Mercedes, BMW and Audi – all good in each their own ways. If you were to ask me right now what is my dream car, it would be a BMW wagon, manual transmission,with a rich deep color … preferably custom – orange is my favorite. A girl can dream right? And…it would be de-badged. That is when you take your hairdryer to the plastic lettering advertising the make and model of the vehicle on the rear and heat the glue so that you can carefully remove the letters. It leaves a nice and clean rear end. Love it! I have enjoyed the treatment on two different vehicles now.Very pleased with the results. Small pleasures…

The Edmonton Police Service kindly took a photo for me…

Will I be so forthright in the man department? Remains to be seen. Let us see how it goes down…

Somehow in my journey back to the single life – 3 years now – the only men to catch my attention have been few and most calling Europe home. Who knew?

I began into this realization after meeting a fine young Norwegian man at a conference in Hawaii, November 2011. There were very few Europeans there but leave it to me to sniff one out. Canada had some representation but the conference attendees were mostly Americans. I try to avoid naming names. If I am unsuccessful, this story can just fit into his legend.

My initial contact with this man caught my attention right away. I was jarred when he plopped into his seat a couple empty chairs down, arriving late to one of the talks. I remarked to myself that this was a huge vibration from what appeared a normal sized guy. There was a speaker who requested we partner up. Hello Mr. Norway. Fine. There was some sharing. I was to listen to him answer questions related to goals. I echoed back an answer to illustrate I was listening. Instantly, I doubted myself. I asked aloud, “Did you say that?” It was my perception that I read his mind. It was not the words I heard him speak that I answered back. I was informed that I received an “A” (yeah for me!) and that he usually gives a hug for that. Certainly. Hug away… That little interaction had me upstairs in my hotel room eating Tarot chips emotionally within minutes – it was lunchtime. I could not even understand when he casually used my first language, “Bon appetit” as we started our lunch break. My brain had short–circuited or something. Confusion starts. Is that a sign of something?? Emotional eating is just not something that I ever do. I took notice of this fact and really wondered what was the big deal. He was just a man. “Who is this guy?”, I heard myself asking. I chose to sit several rows behind him in the next session and not take the original seat that would have put me beside this intriguing gentleman. I somehow decided that my hat was now necessary (to hide?) – I laugh at myself. So I was wondering away. “Maybe he is too square for me?” Not sure. As I am assessing things from my further vantage point, I noticed he casually scanned left with his vision. Slowly his face came around and stopped when it had found me. He nodded to acknowledge me. Many rockets went off – huge energetic reaction. It appeared that he was looking for me. I could run but I could not hide. What the hell was this? Dear Lord…

Now I felt like a teenager again. Kiiiind of cool(?).

Conference continued. Sightings regularly but I was not very comfortable in my own skin it would appear (in hindsight). A shame…

One of the final activities was a catamaran ride and then a luau. Hmmmm… Would be nice to have been on the same boat of the three ready for the group. No, let it flow. I was not on Mr. Interesting’s boat. But I did find excellent conversation with a Relationship Coach/Author, Susan Bradley. One of the books she wrote is called “How To Be Attractive To The Opposite Sex”. She recommended, even if you never read it, just place it out on your coffee table when you bring a date home. He will be turned on by the idea that you have read this book. She was so funny.

Somehow, our conversation finds its way to my recent marital separation. She strongly urged me to give it one last try. I instantly felt no, this did not resonate with me. She challenged me. She whipped out the spiritual special, “We have been put together on this boat for a reason”. I quickly responded, “no, this is not the reason”. The reason became clear later at the Luau. It turns out she is a flirting expert. OK, now we are talking! Here I was with one of the world’s leading experts in flirting. Yes! Sounded perfect to me. She had some advice for another lady and I was all ears. She went so far as to playfully demonstrate the lines for us. It went like this:

Susan approached a nice looking gentleman about her own age: Am I the first woman to flirt with you tonight? (This must be accompanied by touching the lucky gent as you ask. Very important!)

Man: Uuuuh, Yes!

Susan: Is there anyone who would be bothered with my flirting with you?

Man: My wife and 4 kids might not appreciate it.

Funny! As we explained that she was the teacher of this technique, he sincerely complimented her. I liked the ring of it and had someone to try it out on right away.

It took a few minutes before I spotted one of the first men -not the very first but that is another story- to catch my eye in 25 years. That just sounds weird doesn’t it? I was pleasantly surprised to see him face to face sitting at a table talking to ….Susan herself. I sat myself right next to him as I listened to him answering Susan’s questions. She knew I was looking to flirt with someone specific and was dying to know who. I kept her in suspense until I subtly nodded my head to clarify for her once I sat down. In the next breath she determined that he was single, no kids, never married. Saved me having to ask. I likely would not have… despite the fact that I wanted to know. It seemed that she was about to deliver the same advice to him as I had just received so I just demonstrated what she had taught me.

His answer to “Am I the first woman to flirt with you tonight?” fingers resting on his forearm: “And the last”. Loved that answer!! I had to catch a red-eye after the Luau ended so it was very possible that I was not the last. The way I remembered it was that the answer was followed by putting his arm around my shoulder. Nice. OK, I was planted to that chair despite the fact that it had been reserved by another hopeful lass. The short version of the story is that we enjoyed superficial conversation over dinner with the group. We walked through a buffet together. A few nice compliments were given which I basked in. Somehow, I found myself just out of context comfortable with him. I had my hand on either is leg or arm the entire night.

The following is an excerpt from an actual letter that I wrote and sent to him months after the original meeting. I have affectionately titled the letter – over 10 pages long, a euphemism for 19 pages!!- sharing my crazy. It was funny how I chose to write this small part in the narrator viewpoint – as if it was destined to be shared. That thought terrified me at the time but I took notice. It differentiated itself. I just had the urge to change the style.

Conversation was pleasant. I was very comfortable. Over the course of the meal, I observed myself with my hand on his leg or arm most of the time. After the sun had set and we were all enjoying the luau show, I found my head was resting on his shoulder. I could not stop myself from getting really comfortable, even humming ‘mmmmmmmm’ with this proximity. He did not seem to mind. It felt so natural. I mention that “I cannot seem to keep my hands off you”. No answer but body language showed great comfort. Another woman came along (seemingly a fan). She asked if he was himself. “Yes”. Clearly she was taken aback seeing him with me. She asked if we were together. A lot of stammering and reaching for words. I think she landed on “are you with her?” He answered, “I am now“. Definitely consistent with his live in the now philosophy. Can this be taken too far? Here it seemed very appropriate. A very authentic thing to say. I was so impressed with how graciously he handled the situation. I wonder how often this type of thing happens to him? He kindly got up and gave her a hug – the longer than average style he gives. I was slightly embarrassed for myself and her. I could not even look. I was curious now about the Facebook Page as this seemed the origin of her knowledge of him. The carriage was about to turn into a pumpkin as I had a flight home to catch. Everyone was standing to leave. I was feeling so authentic at that moment. I then looked at him for almost the first time that night as we had been sitting beside each other. His eyes were amazing. They shone. They sparkled in a way I had never before experienced. As I looked into them, I was bathed in such a warmth and love. I was overwhelmed. I looked away like a shy schoolgirl. I told him “you are a Beautiful Spirit” and I meant it with all of my heart. I was in completely uncharted territory but not terribly concerned – enjoying the moment so much. I am unsure but I think he said something along the lines that what I saw was just a reflection of myself. He was the mirror of my own Beautiful Spirit. I interpreted this to be a deep compliment – wow. I am pretty sure he said, “It is going to be so Beautiful”. I wish I could go back and ask him what he meant by this. I seemed to almost see a future with him – and children. Angèle, you have a very active imagination or an intuition that might know something. Either way – so good. I mentioned, “you are ahead of me”. I was thinking in regards to waking up, being enlightened. Strange thing to say as I reflect back. He said, “It is not a competition” – a compassionate and kind remark. Instantly, I intuited that he has some psychic abilities and saw a bright future for me. I was left unsure if he was seeing himself in that future or just my own Beautiful Path. Either way, I trusted it will be so good. I trust and respect him in the deepest possible way. I sensed that I would not get his phone number or email because that is old energy style. If we were meant to be together another way would present itself. I gave an authentic hug and that was Bye for now. I was on cloud nine none the less. I could not even speak on the taxi ride back to the airport. I shared the ride with another conference participant – a female photographer from Europe. I quickly gave up on any attempts at social graces. I was just going to experience this moment for myself. It could easily have been interpreted that I was very closed and rude. It was likely very strange for Rudy, the taxi driver. He brought me to the hotel at the beginning of the trip. We had a strong connection so I arranged for him to pick me up at the end for my departure flight. I was very talkative and animated-effusive comes to mind- in the taxi the first time. He gave me what I took to be a lovely compliment. He guessed that I was a presenter and not just a participant – nice. It was dark on the ride to the airport and I was deep within myself – quite peaceful. Not a common occurrence. On the flight home, I was almost vibrating. I was so full of energy. I hardly slept but did not feel the need. I seemed to be just enjoying that peaceful depth of myself. When I landed in Edmonton the next morning, I recall many times taking off my glasses expecting that perhaps I would not need them anymore. I felt that this new energy within me might cure my shortsightedness- fairly weird. The idea came out of nowhere. Each time, it appeared that I did still need optical correction- ha ha. I put it in my mind to try to find a way to remove my need of glasses … and the gray hair.

Excerpt of words shortly after the share my crazy letter. I wanted to capture a few details that I had missed with the prior writing.

<With my inability to keep my hands off of him,I wondered what it would feel like to hold his hand. So I did and he held mine back – felt very natural. I perceived that we both looked down at our two hands holding each other and he very, very tentatively took the free hand and timidly covered my hand so now both of his hands were around my one hand. This did not last long but I find myself remembering it this way. Was this symbolic? He had blocks to overcome in order to express his true feelings. The memory comforts me. It felt like confirmation that his own heart blocks to personal intimacy exist – that is OK. Love is unconditional. Perhaps there is only one person who can unblock/heal this Beautiful Spirit??? And that would be me…I have the keys to his locks and I have locks that fit his keys.

I really wanted to kiss him. What would that feel like? I asked to take a walk on the beach to which he declined stating that there were other people he needed to talk to. This did jar me back into reality: I was late for my arranged taxi ride to the airport – whoops! It was really time to go. I completely forgot about the details and ended up in the wrong place from where my luggage was … and the other person to share the taxi with. It all worked itself out.>

Groovejet – If This Ain’t Love

Loved this song when I magically discovered it on my playlist one day during the peak of my Twin Flame dreams. Felt like a synchronicity…

I add May 12, 2014 – I heard another version of this song while shopping a couple of weeks ago. When I went to purchase the Hazzaro Remix – Lissat & Voltaxx vs. Marc Fisher – version, I saw that there were a lot of versions in the itunes store. Guess I am not the only one to notice that song.

When I returned home, my BFF asked, “Is he good looking?” Perplexed, I realized that I had no idea. Paused. I actually said, “I don’t know. He seemed like a God is how I recall”. Looked him up on Facebook and yes, he actually was very attractive. It was irrelevant somehow.

So I imagine these words paint the picture quite well. Angèle had a little crush going on…or something. Within days of returning home, I obtained his email (easily via one of the organizers – from Alberta, went to school at my University here in Edmonton. Small world.) and sent a few lines, including this link. Said it with a song:

I Am Aglow by Sarah Harmer.

I wanted to see him again. His answer ended with, “My plans are open.”

Over the months, he had a way of never saying yes but never saying no either. I am nothing if not enthusiastic so until I would hear a no, I would keep my mind open. After my sharing the crazy letter, his response was short but pertinently included, “I had no special feeling reading this”. OK, that spoke volumes. Out of every experience that could be deemed negative there is a lesson. Things happen for us not to us. I can honestly say that two minutes following reading the disappointing response, I felt great peace and harmony.

I admire Pema Chodron (a Buddhist nun) who has written many books and teaches. I read in one of her books that no emotion, felt fully can last longer than 90 seconds. I really grabbed onto the concept but had not had opportunity to really try it on for size….until this very moment receiving the huge Norwegian rejection. So I noticed the opportunity instantly. I looked at my watch and I told myself to feel it fully. I expected to bawl my eyes out. A few tears did fall but after overwhelming disappointment and sadness washed over me, I looked at my watch….60 seconds had passed. I insisted to myself, “Keep feeling it”. There has got to be more than that!!And that was it. Maybe I shed ten tears and it took 60 seconds to just feel it all. That was approaching two years ago so I can safely say that I do believe that I got it out of my system right then and there – the sadness over that reaction, that is. What a gift!! This felt like freedom. What was I scared of? I probably would be more scared if he felt the way I thought that I did. Maybe that is why it was the way it was. My energetic vibration…

Til Kingdom Come & Ring Of Fire by Coldplay

So, did I feel differently about him? No, I cannot say that. But I respected and accepted that he did not feel like pursuing any relations with me at that time. As Don Miguel Ruiz resonately states in his book “The Four Agreements”, I will not assume anything and I will not take it personally. I am worth no more or less without the outward affections of this Beautiful Spirit. And it makes him no less Beautiful a Spirit. I felt unconditional love for him…and still do. Can I feel that for everyone? Not sure that I can…yet. I sense that this is something to strive for. I feel great compassion for almost everyone I meet. I see myself in others more and more. I do not want to take what is not freely given.

So maybe you are wondering what Twin Flame means. Well the concept of Twin Flame came to my attention in the spring of 2011. When I first heard about it, I did not think too much of it. It all started with my hairstylist passing me a book straight out of her drawer, “Value Your Vibration” by Erica Boersma as I sat in her chair getting my hair cut. It was written by another of her clients and was an interesting story of two Twin Flames reuniting. It was all new to my mind. I just shook my head and said, wild. At present, I have decided that the concept of Twin Flame does not really serve me in my life and I have cast it aside for now. But I had thought that the Norwegian man was my Twin Flame. It is a popular notion in some spiritual/metaphysical circles. It speaks of two souls who are half of one soul. If there is a relationship ladder, then the Twin Flame would be your top rung. We have hundreds, perhaps thousands of Soulmates but only one Twin flame.To reunite with your Twin Flame on earth would generate powerful energy that would benefit the world…and the twins themselves. Reuniting physically promises blissful sexual experiences – easily captures the imagination. There seems a possible synergy: two strong wholes become even stronger when together. There is a great purpose to serve humanity that is shared with the two people. Reunion is aided with Divine synchronicities.To be able to reunite with the strong polarity that is always associated requires both individuals to be highly balanced female/male energies within themselves. They would both need to be highly evolved human beings. Most pairs do not come together. There is a tendency for one to be the runner so even if they meet and get together for a short time, long-term partnering seems very difficult. I do not fully understand or need to. This idea really caught on when I had the strong reaction to my Norwegian friend. My intuition wondered if he was my Twin Flame. So when he did not seem to feel the same way, I just kept my mind open thinking that he was my Twin Flame and that it would come together when it was meant to. He was the runner.

Carbon Leaf: A Life Less Ordinary.

So getting back to the 3D experience of being told, “I had no special feeling reading this.” The very next thought that came to my mind was “This is not over”. I looked up and right, the posture that I found myself in. “What do you mean it is not over?” I asked myself. It is sounding like there is nothing started to even be over. So I took it to be either my higher self or angels telling me that it was not over. I could not see how that could possibly be true but…the Twin Flame concept was planted. Just prior to reading the disappointing email, I had heard a song in my truck while driving,

Amanda Marshall I Believe in You.

As I heard the chorus “I believe in you” it felt like a choir of angels were singing it in my ear. So I could not help but notice this sense of angelic presence stronger than I have ever felt it in my life just prior to this email. Likely the email was drafted and sent at the time the angels were singing in my ear.

I have come out of the spiritual closet now…

Over the forthcoming months, I many times received messages from angels that I felt I was assigned to send to my friend from Norway. I would ask, “Why can’t you just tell him yourself?” I never got an answer. I did not always follow through but some of the times I did. He was always very nice in his responses. There was one time I intuitively sensed he may have been a bit unsettled. Answering 3 sentences in one line on the email. Very much a man of few words.

Thanks. All is Well. His name here.

Maybe I read too much into it. He could have just been busy and rushed. Maybe I am right in my intuition. At present, I have no definite knowledge that I was. I should add…and I am OK with that. Ha ha

One of my favorite quotes: “Embrace Uncertainty”. I am becoming an expert at this…

You ask, Was there anything else that kept your interest alive after what seemed a done deal? I am glad you asked. Yes, there was. My first psychic reading was May 2011 where the psychic proclaimed that a European man would fall in love with me at first sight. He would want to travel with me and introduce me to his parents. I thought nothing of it at the time but after my big experience with Mr. Norway, I could not help but recall. If he felt feelings, I would need a psychic because he certainly did not choose to express them. Yes, I know. Weak scientific evidence at best.

I had no idea if my intuitive senses were correct or not. But I had chosen to believe in myself unconditionally. I did not need an expected outcome to be happy. I was just myself. I believed that things may not be what they seemed. There may never be a 3D experience with this Beautiful Spirit but there had definitely been an experience for me. Maybe it was just with myself?? One thing I gained from this unusual story is that I recognized how much love I have to give. I must fall in love with myself before I can ever love another. This experience helped me to fall deeper in love with myself: one of the most noble of purposes in this world. We all do it in our own unique way. I connect via music, Beautiful things, art and dance. I can assure you, he is a Beautiful Thing…

For the more curious in the crowd, here is a Truth is Stranger than Fiction tidbit:

Just over one month following the share my crazy letter, I received an email informing me that, “Mr. Norway has commented on a post that you have commented on”. I followed his two Facebook Pages and interacted as I was inspired to. Initially with tons of resistance that reduced as time went on.

I was new to Facebook then and I think this was one of the first times I had received a communication like this. It struck me as a synchronicity. I now know that this is commonplace but at the time, it was not in my world.

The comment was this link related to a post on one of his pages that had under 10 people who had commented. I assumed that all who had made a comment on the post would have received the same notification that I had. I knew that much. I explored each of these people wondering if the message was for one of them. My intuition was unsure but thought it was for me.

Run, Run, Run by the Explorer’s Club – Movie Montage

It was completely awesome to my heart. I just felt like it was him expressing himself…to me, in a way that was comfortable…for him.

Lyrics:

“So far away.

I think about you every night.

All through the day, you’re all that’s on my mind.

So now I’ve got to try to get back to you some way.

Because deep down inside, there’s so much I want to say.

(Chorus)And I’ll run, run, run, till I get back to you.

Run, run, run. Do what I have to do.

Run, run, run. Till I get back in your arms again.

Out on my own, I found out what you mean to me.

I want you to know, you’re the one I need.

So now, I’ve got to try to get back to you some way.

Because deep down inside, there’s so much I want to say.

(repeat Chorus)

I’ll get across the distance somehow.

I’m gonna make it to you ….soon.

(repeat Chorus)

The video is an amazing Montage of famous movie characters running. It is a Beautiful piece of entertainment… especially for me and my magical thinking.

So strange…and yet, I could not talk myself out of it.

I looked for the post months later and it was hidden. It no longer showed to the public. I could only access it using my email link,which of course I saved. Hmmmmm…. I would think I saw signs but would not know if I interpreted them correctly. Remember that one in a couple of Twin Flames will Run. Coincidence? I have not a clue.

So I just kept communicating when I was moved to … and he always responded in a courteous way. A couple of times it appeared I was one of the first to receive a response during times of backlog. I note this via following his Facebook posts. This is in keeping with my hypothesis. I just accepted that our relating was not as natural as one would expect. Twin Flame polarity…that is the story I am sticking with. Ha ha.

Notice my use of the word hypothesis? I took a scientific interest in my Twin Flame theory.
.

Scientist by Coldplay.

An earlier draft of this work was titled “Twin Flame: Crash and Burn Style”. I burned in the Twin Flame…

But there are worse things, aren’t there?

I would not give up the experience for anything. I bear no scars despite burning in the flame. I am only a stronger version of myself. Gotta love that!!

I will never fear love. Ok, maybe easier said than done. Sounds like a lovely quote though, doesn’t it? Maybe I am actually terrified of True Love… From what I have seen in books and movies, I do not think I am alone.

I have received great inspiration having met and experienced Mr. Norway’s Facebook posts. I am in awe of his Authenticity and Transparency. I will be Forever Grateful to him. I was introduced to many inspirational and mystical Facebook pages along with teachers which support my continuing exploration into Human Consciousness and Holistic Wellness. No doubt, we would make Famous Friends. I believe any Relationship can be Transformed. That is how Powerful We Are.

I love the power of a good question. During my Twin Flame theory experiences, I asked why is communicating so hard with a man I perceive myself destined to be with? I got a clear answer: so it could be shared with the world more easily. Documentation. Emails. Facebook posts. Now website publishing. The Movie would be way better for it. What. The. Fuck??? Pardon my French.

“Twin Flame: Fact or Fiction?” The title of this story when it was first published. A Myth became the more apt label.

I am a Storyteller. I love stories…

Just when I thought this piece was complete, I watched Episode 11 from Season 3 of Avatar: The Last Airbender. I loved a quote from Uncle Iroh that seems fitting:

Destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out, BUT, if you keep an open mind AND an open heart, I promise you will find your OWN destiny someday…

I couldn’t have said it better myself… Yes!!!

Did I mention that I have a passion for Children’s Entertainment?

Addendum May 2014: I have had conversations with two different Twin Flame Coaches way back. I always follow my curiosity. One was a woman from Australia. I had two sessions with her. She said “Oh yes, he is definitely your Twin Flame. I never usually say that.” The second was a Canadian Man. He said, “He is definitely not your Twin Flame. You are destined to meet your Primary Soulmate in this lifetime but it is not him.” He described my experience with Mr. Norway as a Catalystic Heart Reaction: somehow his energetic vibration attuned my own. I wonder if other women, even men, have had this reaction with him. Inquiring minds want to know…

Fun food for thought. In the end, I will Let the Moment Teach Me.

Seems it is Human Nature to want to Know ahead of time and Understand everything.

Embrace Uncertainty… a golden rule for me Now. Infinite Peace, Harmony and Freedom in Not Knowing. Self-evident, I know.

I’ve Got You Under My Skin by Chris Botti Featuring Katherine McPhee

Started writing Spring 2013

June 24, 2014 12 Benefits of Manifesting Your Twin Flame

August 8, 2014 Read a concept that I like: perhaps Twin Flame is a passé concept. Better to consider Divine Partnership now. There is not just one person you can have a successful Divine Partnership with, likely there are many available for every last one of us. Strong energetic reactions are exciting but do require you to step up to develop strong heart centered relationship/communication skills to enable you to enjoy the Divine Partnership. The foundation is to develop yourself first.

“It is time for us to grow up, to stop obsessing with twin flames and step into the new divine partnership template which is based on self-love not on having a relationship”.

Goldraytwinflames (the Canadian coach mentioned above) You Tube channel video From Twin Flame Obsession to Divine Partnership.

May Nishiyama

As always – easier said than done.

Wrote this poem summer 2014 . I was exploring the difference between Obsession and Passion.

Enchanté

Passion: an Exquisite Emotion.

The World has been Bettered a Million Times Over.

Fire in the Belly.

Love in the Heart.

Creative Juices Overflowing.

It Feels. So. Good.

A Poem. A Song.

A Book. A Movie.

A Solution. An Invention.

A Business. A Way of Life…

An Intimate Embrace. A Rendez-Vous.

A Cure…

A Miracle.

Denial of Passion Sows the Seeds of Obsession.

Muse Delivers Affection.

Ego Reflexly Disowns its Own Enthusiasm.

Connecting to our Feelings can be Foreign.

A Subtle Twist in Perception,

Approval turns to Contempt.

Joker’s Wild.

Creative Genius… has gone Mad.

When a specific Outcome is linked with the Passion,

the Desired Lover becomes an Obsession.

The Masterpiece. The Manuscript.

The First Draft. The Prototype.

The Love Affair.

… is thwarted.

Baffled and Confused.

Disappointed and Double-Crossed.

The Muse leaves you Wanting.

Let Go of the Yearning.

Obsession Transfigures back into Passion.

Flow Returns.

Ecstasy Awaits…

We have Written a Script. We Manipulate our Now to Follow It.

Experience can be Dystorted.

We Trust No One. Not even our Self.

Yet it is only our Self who can Discern.

Our Humanity. Our Divinity.

They Dance Together.

We Choose the Dance.

Beautiful and Awkward at Once.

When we Align with our Passion, the Dance becomes Consummate.

Captivated by our Precious Desires.

Cease Maneuvering … and Flow.

Ecstasy Comes…

Undisclosed Desires by Muse

Superstar by Jamelia. I own the CD for the TV show soundtrack Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Loved that show!

April 16, 2015

I Do Not Discriminate on the Basis of Prior Twin Flame Theories.
Freedom … Always Optimal.
The Mind is a Stubborn Instrument.
The Mind is a Stubborn Master.
The Mind is a Stubborn Slavedriver.

Crash & Burn. Out of the Ashes …

It’s About Time.
All the Time in the World.

Baby Can I Hold You by Tracy Chapman

September 23, 2015
Who am I kidding? I love playing with fire.

December 1, 2015
Came across the best description of Twin Flame I randomly stumbled upon. Mystical Marriage – the Ultimate Union. The term Twin Flame was not used but the concept is there.

December 5, 2015

I would have loved to see this video 4 years ago:

Why the separation? Why the delay in reunion? by Stephanie Kraft

Quote from the video: The Mission in addition to healing humanity…
Embodying divine love and being/radiating that love.
Being examples of harmonious relationships – … actually breaking down the patterns, the paradigms of relationships as we have known them on earth.
The new relationships that are being brought in are very new. At the forefront. Relationships between twins are about complete and total freedom. Independence. Unconditional love and a very high consciousness of love. Christ-like love.

January 24, 2016 I add:
A Myth of Epic Proportions.

A Captivating Tale.

I’ve Got You Under My Skin by Diana Krall.
I came to realize – simply a Beautiful Scar. I will cherish it.
A momento of my heart breaking open…

Merci.
Adieu.
(Two of my final words to him.)

Your Song

May 20, 2014 / Disabled Angel

On my morning scroll of Facebook one fine January morning … ran into this version of the Elton John classic.

Your Song (Moulin Rouge) sung by Ewan McGregor!! He is really good!

It has been a familiar melody to my ear for decades it seems. Shines a light on a memory.

Prior to connecting with my marriage partner in second year Medical School, I enjoyed a couple of years of being single. Now that I think back, maybe it was just one. My memory fails me. Wow, did I pack a lot of male interactions into that year (or two). This was the short window between my first lover (2 years together) and my marriage partner. I chose to find a Summer Research job as I felt it would “look good on a resume”. I held a different mindset back then.

One of my study subjects in the ICU. Not looking as chipper as I was...

One of my study subjects and the metabolic cart in the ICU. Not looking as chipper as I was…

I was always a little insecure about my place within the Medical School. It was my perception that I was one of the last to be let in. But I got in! So that is the main thing, right? I was always looking for the biggest experience I could within the range of choices. So I found a job in the Intensive Care Unit – quite exciting! (In a morbid kind of way). That summer, Edmonton was hit by a tornado.

Sitting in the hotel waiting to present to the American Academy of CHEST Physicians

Sitting in the Hotel Suite waiting to present to the American Academy of CHEST Physicians

Many were killed and the ICU filled up that day with victims. My research was a bit of a yawn – the Thermic Effect of Feeding. Results were negative…but the upside: I presented the findings in Anaheim, California at a conference for the American College of CHEST physicians. Sounds impressive, don’t you think? All in the name of Science…

Second trip to Disneyland! Just as good as when I was a kid.

Another significant detail is that I was ‘conveniently located’ one floor below the Neurological ICU where my dear cousin, of my own age, spent significant time after surviving a ruptured brain aneurysm that very same summer. Pretty heavy… Happy ending!! A Miracle…

So in my role as a Summer Research Student, I met many other students doing the same. Connected to a small group, two from England (guy and gal, not romantically connected) and one from Ireland. Love those Europeans! So being my friendly Canadian self, I offer to drive the threesome to see the mountains and on to Vancouver. Managed to get in a night of camping in the mountains. Fond memories of Mr. England and I “necking” (kissing) as quietly as we could in the tent – not to disturb the others- into the wee hours. He was an amazing kisser. So good, you really had no need to have sex somehow. (And we never did.) That good. Dropped the two English students in Vancouver. Mr. Ireland and I enjoyed the long drive back to Edmonton. Mr. Ireland was the only one of the three who would call Edmonton home for a while. He entered into my life fully- hanging out with my roommate and I doing all that we did. I saw him as a close buddy.

One day he surprises me by writing out the lyrics to “Your Song” and giving them as a show of his affection.

Your Song cover by Ellie Goulding

Blindsided! Did not see that one coming… I was not feeling it and was really uncomfortable with him feeling as he professed. The poem was quickly followed by thoughtful gifts and verbal expressions…of love. He certainly knew me well. Today, I would be extremely flattered as it was so authentic. It saddens me to think about my response at the time. I was mad. I did not want to lose my friend and I did not want to have to deal with our feelings not matching. I was mean about it. God help me. In Medical School, I was pretty self-absorbed…and clueless apparently. The saddest part as I look through the retrospectoscope (Doctor speak for looking back in time) is that I did not love myself…and thus could not receive love either. He treated me so well. He was a Beautiful Spirit. And I was incapable of loving him back. Painful once I became aware of this…years later. I was deep into my marriage by this time, reflecting on why I did not have love in my marriage as I desired. Your relationships reflect you. Ouch!! That smarts…

Well I have done the Forgiveness Prayer for Mr. Ireland. The Hawaiian Ho ‘o Pono Pono Prayer: “I am sorry that I was incapable of loving you at the time, please forgive me, I love you, Thank you.” (Say at least 3 times). Closure… “That was easy”.

I would have liked to talk to him but had not maintained contact info. His name was very common so hard to find. No Facebook then. I know that all is healed…within me.

Really loved reading a summary of Karen Salmansohn’s “The Bounce Back Book” shortly after separating from my marriage partner. My marriage partner was the one who so very thoughtfully “signed me up” to Oprah’s subscription list, as the marriage was unraveling, enabling me to see Karen’s wisdom. Came at the perfect time. She offered 10 tips to Bounce Back.

Tip 1: Be a forward thinker.

Tip 2: What you are going through now is normal.

Tip 3: There is no such thing as normal.

Tip 4: Feeling means you’re dealing means you’re healing.

Tip 5: Turn over a new Belief.

Tip 6: Think Like a Lion

A star lion tamer with Barnum & Bailey Circus, Graham Tomas Chipperfield, got bitten by Sheba, one of his 500-pound lionesses.

Before the mauled tamer got back into the cage, he made very sure to see what happened from Sheba’s point of view. He recognized how lions tend to think of the trainer as another lion. And so when he bounded into the cage to break up a fight between Sheba and another lion, Sheba merely figured Chipperfield wanted to join in the fight too.

Did Chipperfield sit around blaming Sheba for her inaccurate thinking? No. Instead he took the time to see the biting from Sheba’s perspective, so he’d make sure this bad event would not happen again.

Robert Staub, a psychologist who counsels people who have been through failure, would agree with the Chipperfield philosophy. He says that the main cause of career and relationship failure is “not being able to adopt the viewpoint of others.”

For this reason, many therapists—beginning with Freud—have clients role-play a situation from the offending party’s perspective. The hope is that by understanding why someone might have emotionally taken a bite out of them, the patient can avoid being bitten again!

Tip 7: Happiness is a choice: Not just a matter of genes or good luck.

Tip 8: Get some ZZZZZ’s (sleep).

Tip 9: Think of life as a gigantic Ice Cream Parlor with infinite numbers of flavors to taste.

Tip 10: Use vacations as restorations.

I had posted this on my Beautiful Truth Facebook page on October 10, 2012. I added the comment:

Beautiful Truth To my mind, Tip #6 is very important (maybe often overlooked?). You are always “in there” – in any difficulty, Beautiful experience, challenge. If you cannot figure out how you connected to this event, likely you will see more of that type of event come your way (or feel helpless, powerless). And in the case of Beautiful experiences that is awesome but not all experiences are Beautiful…

You could say that Tip #6 was my favorite…

Wherever you go, there you are. Jon Kabat-Zinn

Started January 22, 2014

It Takes A Village To Raise A Child…Or Does It?

May 19, 2014 / Disabled Angel

“Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.”

Khalil Gibran

Shattered Image by Dolly Parton with Acappella 1987

I always believed that it did take a Village to raise a child but once I actually entered into motherhood, I am believing it less and less and in a different way. As smart and educated as I have always felt myself to be, I was not prepared for the oncoming “advice” that is handed out the millisecond one becomes a mother… At almost any and all opportunities. I now just nod and note what the advice tells me about the advisor. We all look through our own ‘unique’ lenses of our B.S. (Belief Systems). It took me a few years to realize that the “experts” who write the books are also just human beings…full of B.S. (belief systems).

Humongous Tree by the Barenaked Ladies on their Epic album “Snacktime”. The best children’s album I have ever heard. Children are like seeds. I am a humongous fan of the Barenaked Ladies. I often say “I want to be a Barenaked Lady”. A girl can dream…

I have two noteworthy examples of discovering the failings of the experts: How To Solve Your Child’s Sleep Problems by Richard Ferber, MD, and 1, 2, 3, Magic: Effective Discipline for Children by Thomas W. Phalen, PhD. Elise being my oldest was the “guinea pig”. I somehow felt I needed to be “booksmart” in order to raise a child. In the end, my best advice came from my Mémé (grandma), “Each child will teach you how to raise them”. She was Oh. So. Right. But being Angèle, I needed to experientially learn for myself. I did not fully recognize the wonderful wisdom of Mémé – at first. Elise was a dream child. We connected very strongly and instantly. I always felt I knew what she wanted…telepathically. It came in very handy. It gave me great confidence as a mother. (I did turn away from that connection as I read all the books by the experts). Her sleep was like a dream. This enhanced the motherhood experience. I actually slept. I recall her sleeping through the night at 7 weeks of age. It was the same day that I put her in her crib for the first time. (Yes, I read that having your baby sleep with you was very good for the baby. It was not bad but she slept through the night the first night she had her own crib.) I had heard of the “Ferber Method”. Many weeks went by where I nursed her to sleep and then gently set her into her crib….Ahhhhh, slept like a baby. Until one day, she woke and was pretty upset at being left in the crib. It was the very day I decided, I will Ferberize her. Ferberize is to let the baby figure out how to soothe themselves and get to sleep – aka cry it out. It broke my heart but took only one night. I am not sure I could have handled a second night like the first – over an hour of crying. (And I know, this is nothing). I am a wimp when it comes right down to it. Or maybe I was just ‘connected’ to my baby. All said, the mother must look after herself first in order to best care for her baby. So each mother has to determine how to do this. Easier said than done…

Then there were the timeouts when she was four. I took what felt to be common advice. I reinforced it from Phalen’s book, 1, 2, 3 Magic. I will spare the details but after using it a fair amount, I determined that time-outs did not work with Elise. I abandoned them. They angered her and it just did not feel right. Brought me back to my own time-outs as a child where I developed the habit of laying on my bed, and then kicking the wall repeatedly as hard as I could until my anger settled. Eventually, I kicked a large hole in the drywall…which my parents delayed repairing as a clear signal that my actions were not appreciated. They won that one more than they originally knew because I was “terrified” of that hole – that some alien or monster would pop out of it. It was right beside my bed…..yikes!! Lesson learned, anger is “best avoided”.

At that point in my mothering career, I decided to start taking my Mémé‘s advice. I felt my daughter and I could communicate very well together. She astounded me with her grasp of complex/difficult issues and her maturity. I feel she is an “old soul”. Once I did this, our relationship strengthened. I had all the evidence I needed now. No “expert” would talk me out of my own wisdom as I had allowed in the first years of my dear little guinea pig’s life (Élise). The two sons that followed benefited from my connection to my own wisdom. (Yes, I see how self-evident this all is.) I am a slow learner. Better late than never.

Fast forward to 2013.

Élise, 16 years old, continues to thrive – in so many ways. I am in awe and so pleasantly surprised. (Not biased at all..haha). People often talk about the “terrible twos” and then a girl as a teenager as difficult times. For me, I do not agree. It seems that these common beliefs are associated with times when a child may have ideas that differ from the parents (culturally ingrained B.S.). I have a guilty pleasure – not that guilty- in enjoying the occasional psychic reading. Just prior to starting this story, I met this particular psychic man for the first time (my 3^rd Psychic at the Russian Tea Room here in Edmonton). So he read Tarot cards, my palm and 3 Destiny Cards. Fun to have these readings done. This time, he surprised me by starting first with my kids. Elise being the very first. Here I am ‘reprimanded’ by the psychic in how I am raising Elise. He tells me I need to “reign her in”. Hmmmmm….I noticed my own reaction instantly resists this. There is no harm in taking a look at it. Elise has a busy lifestyle…of her own choosing. I have often felt it to be a bit busy but as we discuss it, she is inspired by all of her activities. She has achieved a Brown Belt in karate (which is phenomenal). She volunteers extra time to the program without hesitation. That is how a good dojo runs. The higher belts help in the training of the lower belts. It is something she enjoys. Her Sensei is one of the most inspiring young women I have ever met. So I cannot fault Elise in following in her footsteps. Sensei is a Nurse Practitioner and a former Squash Champion, Tennis Champion and just finished a couple of years on the National Karate Team. A Superstar…and a wonderful person. I have a lot of hobbies I have accumulated over the years. I passed on the one of “Cake Decorating” to Elise. We have all the tools and gadgets. Some amazing cakes have been created in my kitchen. This organically led her into a special program of Culinary Arts in a nearby High School. Which resulted in a lovely summer job as a Chef Apprentice. This was part of her schooling and brought her great joy every day.

Watching You by Rodney Atkins.

She also enjoyed playing Badminton/ Swimming on the school teams. To top it off, she even started dating: worrisome to many parents, but not me. Been there. Done that. Hard to control authenticity. Why would you want to? Seeing who my kids really are is the very best part of parenting. I love to ask for their viewpoints. I honestly believe that I could not be who I am now without their wisdom. Their views shook me loose from some of the B.S. (Belief Systems) I had taken on. They even have the lingo. I hear them ask, “Mama, is that not just a Belief System?” I have enabled some very Beautiful Souls in this world…

There’s A Word For That by the Barenaked Ladies (Snacktime Album again). Love how the kids teach the guys…Anatomy no less.

As I review the advice the psychic gave, I learned that my friend feels the same way. Hmmmm…. I realize that I have heard many “warnings” from friends and family. Each of them is afraid (maybe concerned is a better word) that she will get pregnant. As I tease through the various discussions, they always end up here. Teenager… leads to sexual urges… which are explored and then ….result in intercourse…. which leads to the risk of pregnancy. I am always pretty leary when fear is at the forefront of decisions. And what exactly am I to do anyway? I love to ask my critical commentators what they advise. Most people just encourage me not to “make it easy” for her to have time alone with her boyfriend. Does not sound like a solution exactly. Never go out? Sexuality does not necessarily mean intercourse…not that there is anything wrong with that.

What a Good Boy Cover of A Barenaked Ladies tune by the Duke’s Men of Yale A Cappella Group

I am brought back to a time before I had any kids. I was a very keen Family Doctor with a passion for the underprivileged. One of my patients was the Principal of a School located on an Aboriginal Reserve. She described their issues relating to teenage pregnancy and sexuality. She asked if I would do a talk for the Grade 8 group. (Now my own son, Jacques, is in Grade 8). Seems surreal to me as I think back to it. I welcomed the chance to see if I could help in any way. So I put together a little talk about sexuality. Birth Control was a part of it. The teacher had foreseen that the kids would never open up in the group setting so they were offered one on one time with me, in addition to writing questions on little slips of paper that would be anonymously answered to the group. The questions actually embarrassed me. They taught me more than I taught them, let me assure you. They were mostly asking what is this and what is that sexual behaviors. Being the “expert” of course I did not know the answers to most of the questions. And if I did, I was reluctant to answer them. Ha ha. I was left with homework. What were those things? I did not talk as dirty then as I do now apparently. I learned a very valuable lesson through this whole experience. I ‘judged’ their behavior as ‘problematic’ but actually it was not to them. Following this humbling experience, tail between my legs, I entered into discussion about the community. I listened. Ideally this should have occurred before I came in to “teach” them what I thought they needed to know. The teachers and I felt they had a problem but in their culture, having a baby was the highest achievement they could expect. It made perfect sense to me why the girls would want to get pregnant. Their mothers were extremely proud when they were grandmothers before the age of 40. Children are blessings…and they knew it. The teenaged births were celebrated by the family. I was embarrassed for myself as I realized my own B.S. (Belief System) made no sense to them. This feeling also describes why the Medical System itself often fails. The Patients and the Doctors do not share the same B.S. There is remote hope in holistically beneficial outcomes when the Patients and Doctors do not share the same “raison d’etre”. Motivations and expectations are not a match. I guess that is part of what I meant when I felt I was “spitting into the wind” with my Medical work. Unless the two groups are willing to get onto the same page, there will only be frustration on both sides.

As I percolated with my experience trying desperately to be an expert on the Aboriginal Reserve, I also wondered how to generally impact a teenage population. I came up with the concept that I declared I would teach to my own kids (and I have to Elise). There is no form of contraception that is 100% effective, so if you are going to have intercourse, consider if your partner is someone you would want to raise a child with. Also, use two forms of contraception. (Sounds a little fear mongering doesn’t it? I was a Doctor. What more can you expect of me?) With my new spirituality, I relax that a little. Not that it does not serve a message. I think about the idea that the more we fear something, the more likely we attract it into our reality. I don’t know. So I cannot lead myself to “fear” Elise becoming a mom. She has declared that she has no intentions of ever becoming a mom. I will not hold her to that but that has been a consistent message from her. I strongly believe that sensuality and sexuality are normal. How we handle our natural urges is a choice. A teenager in touch with themselves will know when they are ready for what. I feel I did. So how do I handle my daughter’s freedom? I find myself trusting in her. (Gasp) I recall my own experiences at a similar age. Freedom to explore was very much appreciated. I feel my daughter is educated and I trust her to make the choices that serve her in her life. My relaxed attitude does not sit comfortably with many. I guess that is their problem… I am not afraid of normal. I love kids!! Ha ha.

I was forever changed by my experience with the Aboriginal Community. Seeing kids through their eyes was a Beautiful experience. I am Grateful for the expansion of my perception.

The book I wish I got my hands on way back then is “The Idle Parent: Why Less Means More When Raising Kids” by Tom Hodgkinson. It was published in May 2010 so was not available in my day. I have not read it but I like the sound of it. Somewhere along the way, I chose to change from a “Fast Parent” to an “Idle Parent”. It feels great. My second psychic reader compared my youngest child, Jean-Luc, to a “self watering plant”. Absolutely true! Found this article, “Slow, Free-Range, Idle Parents Can Increase IQ and Happiness”.

Cat’s In The Cradle by Ugly Kid Joe.

I often sang this song, just the chorus, to my former husband: just one of my many endearing traits. A lot could be said with this little snippet. Sometimes it would continue on to him saying, “We should just hire some more help”. Answered by my, “You cannot hire someone to live your life for you.” I always thought he was a tad of a workaholic. Ironic that he worked with his Dad… and as a result often had no time for his Dad. As he would remind me, my buddy was far from the only one “living the life”…

Remember that fun old mom saying: If your friends jumped off a cliff, are you going to go and jump off a cliff too?

P.S. – Just as I complete the first draft of this story, my 13 year old asks me to come and see “something”. I do not like the sound of that. Apparently, my 8 year old has thrown a ‘javelin’ (some implement pretending to be a javelin) at him. He sports a laceration near his eye (gasp) that I would pop a stitch into if it were at hand. Ironic timing. Bleeding has stopped. Amazing. I have steri-strips for just this occasion. Done…

Warning: This is not intended to be Medical Advice. I write stories….please do not forget. But it would take a whole lot of blood to drag myself or family member to the Emergency Department. The human body has phenomenal healing capacity…

Started writing September 2, 2013

Nowhere To Go But Up From Here

May 16, 2014 / Disabled Angel

Back to Grade 8 Outdoor Education weekend trip to get me to one of the most humbling moments of my life. My picture speaks volumes. Seems so funny to me now. I have come a long way. No beauty queen here: bad perm, braces and an eye the size of a baseball… A Kodak moment.
Ok, I am caught red-handed exaggerating this time. It had been years since I looked at this picture. Maybe my eye was just a little swollen…

“Up” by Shania Twain

At my Junior High School (slated for $10 million renovations I read on my first boyfriend’s Facebook post the other day. He is a Member of the Legislative Assembly remember?) Grade 8’s were treated to an overnight trip at a nearby site outside the city. There was a lodge with bunk houses, kitchen, common dining room and activities like archery and horseback riding. Being the blessed girl that I was, when I asked for horseback riding lessons at the age of 5, my parents happily complied. We lived in Calgary at the time. A suitable stable was found: heaven for me. Riding horses became a family activity. One dramatic memory I had from that era proved how well I listened to the rules when I was inspired to do so. I was 6 years old (?). We were instructed to lead our horses to their stalls holding their reins, walking ahead of them. I felt very empowered handling horses. Of my group, I was the only one who was taking charge of her horse….which landed me surrounded by untended horses. I was trapped in a small space, crowded in a canyon of horses. I ended up getting kicked (little ankle kicks, not sure how to describe it) many times but nothing a little “tincture of time” could not heal. Interesting metaphor to my mind…

So I was pretty excited about riding again at this Outdoor Ed. Trip with my longstanding love for horses.

The wrangler picked out a horse for me. I noticed it had a huge gash on its forequarter. I pointed it out. I softly requested another horse. Request denied. I was not very assertive so thought twice before asking again. A little more emphatic, “please give me another horse this one is hurt”. Still no. I debated whether I should refuse to ride the horse. My enthusiasm for riding overruled my sense that I should not have ridden that horse. Was that intuition? Off the group went. But it was not truly riding horses. We sat on horses that were going for a walk – follow the leader. The lead horse made the trail that all the others followed. Mostly, the rider just had to hang on. They were not controlling the experience. A tad distasteful but I was happy hanging with horses nonetheless. The strangest thing happened next. There was a dead tree. A horse a couple ahead rubbed gently against it. It moved slightly. The next horse rubbed, it started to fall. It felt surreal as the scene moved in slow motion. Reining in my horse had no effect. It had made another decision…to run quickly under the healthy sized falling log before the log landed on the ground. It was not being controlled by the rider, it was following the leader. Horse was successful. Rider: not so much. I caught the tree in the eye leaving a gash just under the eyebrow. Cool experience. I felt absolutely no pain. Slow motion persisted. I felt like I was falling into the largest pile of feathers. I sensed the pile was 5 feet high. So when I landed on the ground, I was very peaceful.

Not sure if I was unconscious right away but I was extremely sleepy. I could not keep my eyes open. It was determined that I would be brought back to the main lodge and then driven to the nearest emergency department. I could hardly walk for the sleepiness. One of the adult chaperones lost their patience with me. Told me that the other eye was fine just open my eye. It was challenging to stay awake, even while walking. It is easy to forgive the layperson, she did not know any better. The doctor, on the other hand, likely should have known better.

So off to see the rural Doctor in Emergency. He examined me physically. My biggest memory was of him prying my eye open and testing my vision. Aaaah, big relief. “She can see” – as long as you pry open the swelling. I was discharged promptly. The concussion and head injury were undiagnosed – oh my!! Back to the lodge we went. My memory from this time was very sketchy. I was in and out of consciousness for the remainder of the weekend trip. I laid unconscious in my bunk. It was the coolest sensation. Lights on. Lights off. I fondly remember my first boyfriend (no longer a couple by that time) being part of a group coming into my room. They checked in on me repeatedly, loud and boisterous. Lights on. They would ask how I was doing. Heard me answer. Then they would leave. Lights off again. Intuitively, they were following the instructions for concussion. Those smart kids! Leave them to their own devices and look what they did. You would almost think they went to Medical School. They were not worried: could see that I was fine. They were just following their instincts. Usually, the Doctor would recommend waking the patient up to ensure they are rouseable every couple of hours or so. That was the care I received from those playful teenagers. If a slow bleed was accumulating in the brain, it might have required lifesaving surgery. No worries, I was being looked after. I seemed to come around just in time for the bus ride back to St. Albert.

My mom was a law student at this time. The word litigation was cast about. No long term damage was apparent. (Ha ha! Who knows?) She was pretty upset that she was not notified of the accident. Truly I would have been better off at home. Happy ending none the less.

Maybe that explains a little of how I came to be who I am. A little head injury: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Isn’t that what they say?

December 1, 2014 I insert: Attended my 30 year High School Reunion recently. A Beautiful Soul was recounting the memory of kissing me on this Outdoor Ed. trip 34 years ago now. I did not remember it at all. I think I had a good excuse. So funny, he did not recall the head injury. Really wonder if it was a case of mistaken identity. We are all the authors in our own stories, I guess. End insert.

Horses made me think of country music. A favorite song of mine is Go Wherever You Want To Go by Patty Griffin. Maybe better described as Country Folk…

Moral of the Story: Follow the Leader at your own risk. This can leave you powerless when field conditions require individual action. Wait a minute. There was that time when I was the only one in control of my horse and I still got hurt. But I was the only one following instructions of the leader. Hmmmm…. Maybe not black and white. What do you know about that?

“(Sh)It Happens” by Sugarland.

We are all connected. Empowered cooperation … has a nice ring to it.

I used to say that my lesson from this experience was that horses are big, strong and stupid. But my perspective has changed with time. For years, I avoided riding horses. Summer of 2012, I was back in the saddle again in Otavalo, Ecuador. A short spell in a canter and I was hooked again. Nowhere to go but up from here!

Started January 22, 2014

You Always Remember Your First, Right?

May 13, 2014 / Disabled Angel

I just completed “The Cheese Stands Alone”, a story from my 12 year old days. This story’s title popped into my head following my very first Astrology session back in September 2013. In that session, it was relayed to me that in the year 1966, my birth year, many revolutionaries/visionaries were born. I instantly thought of “my first boyfriend”. His birthday is the day before mine. He recently held a big, fancy title as the Deputy Minister of a Provincial Government Department. Inspiration hits: I sent a Facebook message “requesting his audience” with a short explanation if he would care to chat. I enjoyed a coffee catch up visit shortly thereafter in his constituency office. So weird… It is very hard to see him as a Politician. He just does not seem to be the type. I am not the first to mention this to him. He is such a “regular guy”. I mean that in the biggest way: a huge compliment. I left our coffee talk thinking to myself, he is like a brother. He recounted a story of our shared experience that I had never heard before. I nearly single-handedly ended his career as a trombone player back in the day. (Gasp!!) I am. So. Sorry. He forgave me. Whew… Short version: Two Grade 7 Bands. He played trombone solo in one. I played trombone with a comrade in the other. Christmas concert. The 3 trombone players unite! Two trombones play “in unison”. One trombone player has his own ideas- his perception. I did not notice or I completely forgot. We can laugh about it now.

Sesame Street – One of These Things Is Not Like the Others (Music 0:29).

OK, I do not think that comes from the Official Sesame Street Channel. Whoops!

When you are 12, the term boyfriend is a bit of a big label for the role. In my day, one or the other in a couple would ask, “Will you go out with me?”. I cannot say that I remember “who asked” in this incident. If I were to guess, I would guess me. Whoever did, we probably had a friend do a reconnaisance mission to see how well received the question would be first. The crush began long before the big ask. Well, when the yes came, both wondered, “now what?” But we were bigger versions of our former selves. Validation was enjoyed. Our ‘relationship’ highlights were going tobogganing with a large group of kids but ‘as a couple’. There was “a kiss” too… That was hard to forget. He was (and is) very funny: one of his endearing qualities. I always thought he could make a living at comedy if he were to choose. I was laughing all day around him. Well after our first kiss, he pretended that he got his lip caught on my “braces”. I was both laughing and mortified. Another example of my humble beginnings. He was instantly forgiven. Gotta luv ‘im. He was/is such a cutie.

Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer

My ‘first boyfriend’ was handsome, athletic, nice, funny, smart. Everything that I was attracted to then and still am. I was so surprised when I first told the other girls about my crush. They were shocked. Was I not concerned that he wore glasses? No. What about his “mixed race” ancestry? What of it? All the more interesting. He had good energy. Still does. I run into him regularly enough and it is always a pleasure. It is delightful what great mutual respect we have always shared. The special little bond between us is pleasing. It was his own proclamation to my brother whenever they would meet (as adults) that I was his “first girlfriend” that reminded me that, yes, I guess he was my “first boyfriend”. A cute exaggeration. I wear my title proudly. I was so happy for him when he found small scale fame in University. It seemed that now everyone saw what I noticed back when we were 12. I have always said I can see the god in people. Well he played Volleyball in University (and was a serious hotty – long curly, dark hair, tall and muscular) and I am not sure if it was “Sun God” or some similar nickname that he was branded with. Maybe that is just what I called him. All the girls were noticing him then, probably still. I recognized his brilliance long before. I pride myself in that.

Years ago, I began following politics. First as a Doctor in the Medical System with my patients in mind. Then as an Education Advocate once my oldest child started school. Next I became interested in Electoral Reform. My experience with the Education and Medical systems left me believing our current political system had no hope in improving anything with the winner takes all (First Past the Post) style of election. After my interest in Electoral Reform fizzled, I joined a newly formed Political Party. I donated money and walked side by side campaigning with the candidate. At this time, I was calling myself a “political intuitive”- just to myself. I seemed to know things before they happened. I received clear pictures of the political candidates. I had strong urges as to what would be best for the Province. I did not have a lot of confidence in this but it was a hobby of sorts. So the fact that “my first boyfriend” is high up in power with the Governing party holds some intrigue for sure. (I should note that my interest in Politics ended 2 years ago. Dropped like a hot potato. New passion: transform the individual, starting with myself, to the highest form of Self. As more people achieve this, the systems take care of themselves.)

One of my Medical School Classmates held a Deputy Minister position years ago, also. He was kicked out of the governing party for standing up against the Government in a medical issue. Many applauded him – including myself. Instead of joining my party of choice, he chose another opposition party. He went on, and continues, to lead that party. I spent a couple of hours with him over Bubble Tea right around that time. My intuition saw him as having his heart in the right place but was all in his head with his politics. Pity, the heart packs a way more powerful punch. I asked him why he did not choose “my party”? He said he asked his constituents. They said no. A good answer for a Politician… It was not the answer I wanted to hear. But who am I? I am the 1%. I love this joke. Others in my party did not seem to like it quite so much… To my surprise. (My party received only 1% of the popular vote in its first election.)

Be a lover of what is and the war is over. Byron Katie
One of my all time favorite quotes…

I often say, “I have friends in high places”. I love the double entendre. It can mean literally guys like these two gentleman now in politics OR the higher power/God. Cool when both perspectives are true. I can only speak for myself…

Started December 18, 2013

The Cheese Stands Alone

May 9, 2014 / Disabled Angel

Most of my stories are within my adult life. This one goes way back…to 12 years old. I was in Grade 7. This story paradoxically had a huge impact and yet, at the same time, had little impact. Paradox is a good sign in my books. I took in the experience. Learned from it. And moved right along. I did not skip a step. I did not even tell my parents about it. Somewhere in the last decade, something triggered the memory. I remember it as a story of resilience. How did a 12 year old girl have so much resilience? Who taught me that? Heaven only knows. (Love that!)

This tale offers an alternate view of the more common teenaged victim story. Victimhood is a state of mind. If you don’t have it, you just are not a victim. Suffering is optional. It is a choice – be it conscious or subconscious. Certainly, my 12 year old self taught me well. I love this story.

My brother was 3 years younger and attended the neighborhood Elementary School. My school was brand new serving Grades 5-9. Lice checks hit the Elementary Schools and my brother was picked out. He had lice. He was sent home from school and could not return until he received treatment- special shampoo and laundering clothes/linens touched within 2 days. Somehow we were in the practice of sharing bath towels, so seemed prudent for me to take treatment too. Recently I have received almost weekly notices that someone in my youngest son’s class has been found with lice. Please check your child for nits or lice …. Serves to prompt my memory of my own “lice story”. Back to the 1970’s. Once we educated ourselves as to what lice was…no big deal. Wash the appropriate items. Good to go.

Well the next day at school, the lice incident was far from my mind. Been there. Done that. I appeared to be receiving some kind of silent treatment from all of the girls. Nobody was talking to me. I am/was pretty lighthearted (and intuitive). It did not seem to be a playful kind of thing. I truly did not exist to the group any longer. I had been shunned. Similar to the Cheese Touch in the Diary of A Wimpy Kid. After checking with many people receiving no response, I settled into the silent treatment. I was slightly annoyed but gave up trying to determine what was going on. Have always connected well with the boys so just enjoyed interacting with them. By about day 3, a timid little Soul approached me and told me what had happened. My brother’s best friend at school had a sister in my grade. Well, the story goes, her mother upon hearing of my brother’s case of lice instructed her daughter not to associate with me. The sister promptly reported to school and passed on her mom’s advice to all the other girls. Amazing how news can travel…

I clearly remember my eyes opened wide at hearing this news. I am not sure if I am building myself up here but I felt a strong compassion for the mother for being so ignorant and passing it on to her daughter. I perceived that I was more mature and educated than she was. (My bad, I was judging. Oh yes.) I was deeply disappointed in my classmates for not choosing a different choice. There was a sense of stability recognizing that truly, we each stand alone. It was a powerful experience. I believe I am honest when I say that I did not suffer by this experience. It felt clear that this was more about them than me. Fine. Belonging to the group just did not seem that important when looked at through this lens. They appeared ignorant and uncaring. How sad for them. I recognized my own self-worth independent of what my group thought. I valued my own judgment over theirs. Kind of a lifelong treasure to my mind. To give them credit – there was no Google in those days. If one had a query, it was off to the library. It was not in our nature to go rushing to the library to fill in all the missing pieces to our knowledge. We are usually unaware of what knowledge we lack. Oh, the irony.

Within minutes, I recall feeling secure in who I was and deeply disappointed in my classmates. It made me feel that their friendship was not very genuine if it could be so easily shaken. (Nobody even came to ask me about it- If it was even true!) My own company was the most reliable. Fierce independence, here I come. I moved even more fully into the lone wolf mentality. I carried on at school for weeks “without girl friends”. If news traveled to the boys, it did not show. I continued to enjoy their friendship. Nothing more playful than a teenaged boy. I have always liked the boys. I was not suffering, fear not.

Over time, I was taken in by two kind girls who hung with me through to the end of Grade 7. I appreciated their kindness and generosity. We all recognized we were not the most authentic match. It was nice to try. In Grade 8, I found a kindred wild spirit who became my best friend. We found trouble together over the next couple of years. The fun kind mostly. One of our funniest was each sneaking out of our homes late at night after dark and meeting each other in the school field. We knew one of the neighborhood families with a pool was on vacation. Hey, you have got to try skinny dipping at least once. Right? When I sneaked out of the house, it was easiest to use my brother’s window and climb down the patio structure. Years later, he (parents also) was shocked that I did this as he did not remember. I had to step right onto the head of his bed to make my exit. I had thought he was truly awakened but I guess he is a deep sleeper.

Oh, and then there was driving without driver’s licenses at lunch: being spotted by teachers. When we had difficulty parking the manual transmission to return my friend’s parent’s truck, we went to one of the teachers for help. …and he did repark it for us. It was backed into the carport which then exceeded our abilities. And the teacher did not tell our parents. Those were the days. All ends well… I developed a taste for breaking the rules.

Which reminds me of the case of coming into possession of a key to the school. Seems it was a Universal key. It opened any and all doors. My lips were sealed. It was not premeditated but opportunity was recognized and could not be ignored. If you have ever seen the show Malcolm In The Middle (on Netflix now), I see myself in that Malcolm kid. Love the Malcolm in the Middle Theme Song by They Might Be Giants. (An adolescent anthem – lyrics: Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. Can you repeat the question? You’re not the boss of me now). We were top students so academic mischief was of little use to us. Not that we did not explore that. Seeing a test ahead of time when you normally achieve near 100% on your own, makes little sense. We were very inspired, however, to get into the gym after hours. All the utility balls you could ever want. A large, well-maintained gym at your disposal. Lovely. The fact that it was equipped with a trampoline was just a great big bonus!

Junior High in a nutshell.

Reminds me of how thankful I am for my three kids. I have come to respect children as teachers. I cannot count the times I have been surprised by how wise mine are. As long as there is not an adult corrupting them… I say this lightly. Love hyperbole/exaggeration. Food for thought.

Wrote late 2013

P.S. – Farmer in the Dell – a 2:40 minute reminder of the old social game/song. In the end, “The Cheese Stands Alone”.

It’s All Fun & Games

May 6, 2014 / Disabled Angel / 1 Comment

“To recognize one’s own insanity is, of course, the arising of sanity, the beginning of healing and transcendence.” ~ Eckhart Tolle

My life is full. I am so thankful for that. The interesting and contrasting experiences will continue indefinitely, I can be sure. This particular short story begins on a mountain near a raging stream in Orobumba, Peru on June 24, 2013. Yet another expression of Paradise here on Earth. I am thoroughly enjoying my trip led by a trusted Ecuadorian friend. We were a small group of 8 people joined at times by different Shamans and several local guides. On this Beautiful day, our group was participating in a San Pedro ceremony. There was a Sacred Plant which acts as a vehicle for heart opening along with our combined intentions. We had a Soundhealer playing music to enhance the Sacred space. I immensely enjoyed assisting the Shaman in the creation of a Sacred Mandala out of flowers picked from around the site. Dartura flowers (note one above, the largest in the photo) were among them – a powerful, sacred plant in its own right. This time its physical beauty more than its chemical properties were employed. It was in this setting, I was alone meditating in the woods 8 feet from the bank of the stream. The picture shows the mat and objects I chose to accompany me. I was very relaxed and had no expectations. The single message to come to me was that “I did not need my medications” (Lithium for Bipolar Disorder was the only medication I was taking). I sat with that. Hmmmm… Is this true? I am toying with the idea of a trial of discontinuance. I had planned to do this sometime before Oct. 2013 which would be one year on the drug. One would never really know if the medication is needed without stopping it and see how you feel. I was not set. ….And then another of our group traipsed along nearby. She approached me, hugged me and whispered in my ear, “you don’t need your medication”. OK, that seemed an amazing coincidence. I was decided. I would try without the med. I had 5 more days before I returned to Canada. The next decision was when. After pondering and reflecting and meditating on it, I decided: now. I would stop the medication immediately. It would still be in my system until I got to Canada. It would be fine. If I felt symptoms return, I would just restart it. No big deal.

Well, I arrived home. I was feeling fantastic. I committed to my writing in a new way. I was not going to judge it too much. “If it is not a book, totally fine. I truly enjoy the writing so here I go” (….again. I have said this before. But this time I meant it.) I felt so comfortable in my own skin. With the various healings and ceremonies that I participated in while in Peru, I felt that I was Healed. Within 2 weeks, I started to notice that I would have to go back on my medication. The change came fairly quickly. I was sleeping well and then, bam, all of a sudden I could not sleep one night. Not a wink. It was accompanied by a lot of creative ideas flooding my brain. I decided that I was a creative genius. Really, who isn’t? So funny how I could doubt myself one day and now this day I felt so sure that I was on the right track. (Yes, I was manic again). Who cares what others say about me? I was sure that I was heading in the right direction.

Was this mania? I was wondering. There was also some male attention that had me pretty excited. Was it more just that? Maybe both. “Is what Western Medicine calls ‘mania’ actually an expanded consciousness that is likely not sustained but can be accessed for creative and spiritual experiences?” This concept has always been at the back of my mind and remains there…I perceived great and significant spiritual experiences both times I was manic.

In the course of this, my parenting partner became aware of my new, elevated mood (state of consciousness?) – felt in Western Medicine to be a Manic Episode. I took my first Lithium capsule on my own counsel with the firm plan to restart the med daily. Well, that did not satisfy him. He wanted a Doctor’s assessment at the hospital. His intentions were good. He knew that I wanted to handle this as an outpatient. But after consulting with two of my close friends, it was decided that I would go to the hospital. I recall thinking that the book and/or movie (of my life – running joke) could only be enhanced by experiences forthcoming. I had no idea how right I was on this one. I still entertained the idea that everyone would allow me to take oral meds and settle this down at home. Maybe next time if that ever comes to experience. Alas, it was deemed that I was suffering with a mental disorder, was a danger to myself or others (debatable, unless you think being hugged is dangerous) and would likely not have agreed to inpatient therapy on my own. I was Committed under the Mental Health Act. The Act that locks up those whose Reality does not match the Reality of the Captors – known in the world of Integrative Psychiatry as Unshared Reality. This was my second go around with this Committed thing. My Mom is Retired from a long career as a Lawyer. During the prior admission, she informed me that I had less rights than a Prisoner under this Act: an uplifting thought.

I have always been committed but being Committed under the Alberta Mental Health Act …I can pass on that. I wondered to myself what purpose this served.

I am reminded of a fond memory from my first admission. I laughed so hard seeing an excerpt from Austin Powers Goldmember on You Tube where Dr. Evil does a Jail Rap to Hard Knock Life.

There is even some banjo playing – that is always good for me…

I was shown this while at the Relaxation Spa (as I often affectionately call the Psychiatric Ward) in November 2012 – my first time being committed. A group of us had gathered together in the evening before bed. I was sitting on a fellow patient’s knee. Whenever the nurses turned their back, on his knee I would jump. It is against the ward rules to hug or touch fellow patients. He was 6 foot 4 inches, 240 pounds and 23 years old. He and I befriended each other quite authentically during our shared experience. I met him in lockdown. Not many friends you can say that about. He had the kindest Christ-like nature. He was looking out for the other patients so tenderly which was my natural reaction also. I adopted him as a cousin. We enjoyed spending time together each with one earbud listening to various music. We might be walking down the hall or across a table at the cafeteria. He even attended my self-led stair workouts. Tricky with our earbud sharing. I am not sure what it is with me and younger men, maybe I am just young at heart? My new cousin was not at all worried. He was seemingly disappointed by my formula that I must not date men younger than “half my age plus 5”. A good friend had shared this with me and I have taken it as Gospel Truth ever since. This new friend was 5 years too young. So it was my cousin who entertained me with his iphone that evening and this Dr. Evil video. I will always fondly link it to the Relaxation Spa. Interestingly during the second hospitalization, hardly a connection at all with the other patients – just social courtesy. Maybe all the good ones are down in the lockdown unit. I digress.

Back to my story. It was a Tuesday night. I was led into a small room with a stretcher in the Emergency Department to wait for my hospital room to be available. Later, it was deemed that this room was needed by another patient and I was moved to a stretcher in the hallway of the Emergency Department. All. Night. Long. I determined months later on review of the nurse’s notes that it was all day the next day also – kinda lost track of time.

I actually enjoyed myself. That is the beauty of mania. I sat up most of the night and got slightly excited at each and every man in uniform that walked by. I even flirted with one of the female security guards. Maybe a fetish? (Oh dear…Felt like the female version of Benny Hill or something). I frequently said “Hi Officer”. I might have thrown in a “How is your night going?” My friendliness was not received with any warmth. I asked several times, “Can I hug you?” No. “How about a high five”. OK. So a lot of high fives. Last time I was in the Hospital for mania, it was a whole lotta love…which landed me in lockdown. Another story…

Wednesday morning arrives and I was taken to my room. Instant elation. I was in a single room to myself. There was a Beautiful stenciled quote on the wall, “What a caterpillar calls death, the master calls Butterfly”. My Psychiatrist informed me upon discharge that the stencil was a Guerilla Act. Love that! I was on a familiar Ward. Ahhhhhh… All was well. Within about 10 minutes, I felt an anger building up. Rather quickly. Within moments, I caught myself taking a large breath in…..and on the outbreath I shouted at the top of my lungs. The very top of my lungs. F bombs were sprinkled liberally amongst the ‘telling the whole world off’.

Everyone has got to do this at least once in their life, right? I would love to hear a recording of this. I felt certain in the wisdom of this admonishment to the world. I admit that I cannot remember the details of the rant. My guess is that this might have been sustained for 4-5 minutes. When I was through, I sat down on the bed. Aaaaaaaaaah, that felt so much better. I took deep breaths and felt completely under control again. I felt healed. I marveled to myself how therapeutic that was. Next thing I know, the door was ajar. A man in uniform (oooo baby) peeked in with 3 nurses hovering nervously behind him. I was jarred back to the reality of my setting, “The Looney Bin”. Strange, if I had this verbal onslaught almost anywhere else in the world, it would have had no ramifications. I made a lot of noise but nobody was in danger or was hurt. Judging by the looks on everybody’s faces, I realized that I had to “sell myself”…and quickly or this could get dramatic. Instantly I was reaching out my arms consoling the staff, “I am so sorry”, “I am so sorry”, “I feel so much better now”… It was only the “man in uniform” talking. Hmmmm…. Strange. (And I catch myself still slogging that old fantasy). Even in this setting….Oh dear, Angèle. When will you let that one go? I was pleading with the Uniformed man, “we are connecting” I told him and he agreed. “It is OK”. “I am completely fine now”. The man advanced into the room slowly with the 3 nurses huddled in the doorway, the door fully opened now. One moment I felt I was connecting with him and then I saw the instant change. What? What changed? I was calm! He gave the nod. The next moment, 4 people held me down (despite the fact that I am not fighting them) and I was given an intramuscular injection of Haldol – an antipsychotic medication better known in my medical training days as Vitamin H.

“It is all Fun and Games until someone gets injected with Vitamin H”. Well this little injection left me snowed for two days!! I was shocked to hear my Psychiatrist nonchalantly agree, “Yes, you were obtunded”. Obtunded! Honest to God. His casual approach to the topic made it appear that this is a common occurrence in his world. I am not making this up!! My Mom and Dad inform me that they spent 2 hours that night watching me breath. They felt they frequently had to shake me to restart my breathing. I was in a light coma, essentially: a medicine-induced coma. Apparently 5mg is too much for me.

“It’s called the Haldol shuffle” Stated by a 35 year veteran of the Psychiatric ward.

Caregiver Fear: treated. Optimal? Not in my opinion. Is shouting dangerous? No. There is always two sides to all stories. Doctor’s defense? In his words, My Brain got a much needed rest. Informed consent obtained from the Patient, me? No. The Power given by the Mental Health Act removes all of the rights normally belonging to a patient. Pity …

I lament because if they had offered me something oral, I would have taken it. I was wise enough to know I had no choice. I am left with a sense that the system fears underdosing. I recommend we Let. That. Fear. Go. Debriefing this with one of the nurses, she felt that injection would only be given if oral was not an option. An Oral option was not presented to me. The nurse goes on to proclaim that the call to inject would be from one of the nurses. My perception was it was the Security Guard. Or they made the call with the door closed just upon hearing a little shouting. They did not even attempt to assess. Kind of a kneejerk reaction to my mind. So 2 less days in my Experience of Life. I have a saying, What is a day, a week, a month, a year in the big scheme of things. Then again, perhaps I was on an amazing Astral Tour of another Dimension. I do not have any recollection of what my consciousness was up to. Who knows how these things happen? Truth is Stranger than Fiction sometimes…

Interestingly, on my first admission, I had thought to myself that it would be my worst nightmare to be held down and injected with Vitamin H. Last time while in lockdown, too much love, I was witness to a fellow patient receiving the beloved injection due to an angry outburst. It hurt my Soul to see it … and every time I saw it in training, or in the movies for that matter. The other patients and I all felt that we could have talked to the afflicted patient and hence avoided the need for Vitamin H. I saw the injection was more about the caregiver’s fear than the patient’s anger. I will always wonder about a parallel system that is Heart-Open. I imagine care can be given without the need of the system’s beloved Vitamin H. I propose that intuitive people exist that would be in an excellent position to formulate a new approach to Mental Health Care. I have faced so many of my fears in this life. Add this one to the list. System 2, Angèle 0. But then again…who is keeping score?

This second hospitalization allowed great contrast for me to reflect on. The first time, I was refusing therapy for the first week. I was a defiant teenager throughout. I am wiser now to see that this system is pretty nailed down. Once you are in, Committed especially, the only way out that I am aware of is compliance – at some level anyway. New tactic this second time was to refuse most medications but ensure I took just enough to satisfy my Captors. Then you lower the drugs even more once you are discharged. My scientific, Doctor self had many doubts as to the validity of the system. Who sets the boundaries? Who made the rules? How long ago were they made? When was the last time we thoroughly questioned what we do in Mental Health Care? Not so fun fact: Big change to the Alberta Mental Health Act now compared to the time I trained as a Doctor. It used to be once the acute phase passed, the conditions no longer existed to hold a patient against their will – one week maximum. Now a power surge was given to the Act when a clause was added that a committed patient could be held up to 30 days. I understand the spirit of it. It is just a whole lot of power given to the system. In the reality that I experienced in my first admission, the doctor wanted to maximize that 30 days, as was his legal right. Huge power differential between the patient and the Doctor. All rests in the Doctor’s judgment. (*see P.S. below) Mine justified my length of stay, despite stabilizing fairly quickly, during my two admissions as a chance for me to attend the group therapies. In a nutshell, the groups are well-intentioned yet lame – except art therapy! My assessment is that those working this system want everyone to live in the same sized box as they do. Many perceive through lenses of fear and scarcity so love and abundance appear invisible. But the beauty of the diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder – I had noted this decades before being diagnosed with the condition myself- is that part and parcel of the diagnosis is lack of insight into one’s condition. If you think differently from the system, it is just further proof that you have the disorder and nothing you postulate could possibly be true. Catch 22. My own professional family members were completely taken in by the argument. My mother had rarely before in her life listened to anything a Doctor had told her…until now. The Doctor’s fears fed into my mom’s desire to keep me safe. Any good mom wants her child to be safe. Better to be safe than sorry is the chosen mindset. It is the biggest irony of the whole matter. My mother’s history was as one of the biggest skeptics towards Western Medicine that I know. Then I heard her echoing the fears of the Doctor. There was a fire blazing in my brain. If I should go off the medicine and the condition recur, it could burn hotter and be much harder to extinguish – if it is extinguishable at all. Wow! It is so risky to stop the medicine. Oh, please…

My experience feels completely otherwise. Want to be clear, I do benefit from my low dose Lithium (600mg). I am curious. My sense is there is a wider understanding to my condition waiting to be discovered. I will figure out how. I know that I can. …And it is easy. My mania came back into control within a couple of days. Not really a big deal. The Doctor had a timeline that was a gradual earning of privileges, like leaving the ward but only in the company of family, tricky with limited visiting hours, and over time builds up to day or weekend passes. I must jump through the hoops for my Freedom. OK. Watch me jump.

I love Freedom…

I wrote these words while on a day pass. Not really sure when I would be discharged. It felt out of my hands. I had a wonderful day visiting with my friend and daughter. I spent 2 hours sitting in my orange Adirondack chair listening to my backyard waterfall and appreciating the lush greenery and the numerous blooms. The Salvia flowers offered punctuations of indigo. My clematis vine with its purple flowers was in its full glory – a true spectacle. I was in a hurry to write about this hospital experience. The sooner I expressed this, the quicker I was Free. I did shed a couple of tears each time I have thought about or told this story. The tears were the Soulful, super-healing kind…

I was discharged the next day, making it a 13 day stay. It was funny how the Doctor mentioned he was sending me home and “what did I think of that?” My squeaked reply, “there is a God”. We closed that chapter. Yes!!

Home Sweet Home.

At the same time, I Had Never Felt More Assaulted in My Life….

Philippine Prison – Dancing Inmates 2010 Tribute to Michael Jackson. Love this! Those inmates look pretty organized…

Above written July 2013

April 29, 2014 I add:

I enjoyed a trip to Norway in October 2013. It was the first time I had experienced illiteracy in any significant way: minimal at best. There were a few small incidents where I was truly lost. Once at a parking machine. Several restaurants, I needed to review the menu one on one with with server. That is always fun albeit humbling. The funniest experience occurred in a small town called Ålesund on the west coast. I attended the Aquarium and was grabbing a snack before I left. I was craving milk…just white milk. I saw a cooler displaying several varieties of milk, different colors. The carton depicted in the photo is the very one I purchased that day. I did not ask questions because I have a lot of experience buying milk. Or so I thought…I purchased this milk with 100% confidence. You don’t know what you don’t know…until you know it. This carton was white. I presumed that the milk inside would also be white. I drove back to my hotel and then opened the carton and took a sip. Big surprise!! It did not taste right at all! What is going on here? It almost tastes like….watermelon?? I have never heard of watermelon flavored milk. I must admit, I am not a fan. When I looked at the carton, I laughed out loud. That cow looks like a watermelon! Now that I have tasted it, it is so obvious. Yet that watermelon cow was absolutely invisible to my eye when I looked at that white carton and instantly jumped to the conclusion that the milk would be white because that was what I expected. I wanted that milk to be white. Watermelon milk was outside of my sense of what was possible – outside of my reality. So it was invisible to my perception even when it was in clear sight.

I ask you to try to put yourself into the situation I describe.

I liken this mundane example as an analogy to the security guard and staff jumping to conclusions about me when they heard my therapeutic rant. The rant was over. They were setup to believe that I was a risk to someone and needed to be controlled. I think shouting might scare them. I was there. I beg to differ. Worth noting I was 33 hours without sleep by this time. A little edgy perhaps? It is not a crime. Or is it? Kinda reminds me of Medical School…

There was a risk that I might have had lusty thoughts about the man in uniform. I have been known to say “hi” to men in uniform. Sometimes I ask for a hug, usually settling for a high five if I am lucky. This was the greatest risk I posed at that time.

I would love to do a small research project putting 30 healthy adults through the conditions I experienced on my first day in the hospital. Left in a busy Emergency Department without sleep for 33 hours and then incarcerate them in a system that they do not believe in. I wonder what type of response they would have? I have always found it so ironic that those first hours when a patient is admitted into the hospital, presumably they are most acute in their symptoms, they get the least care. Almost none? I wonder if a small dose of oral medicine (better yet, a 20 minute long hug) given to me upon arrival in the nearly full-blown manic state might have prevented a scene that was traumatic to the Souls of all involved.

I hold steady that I could have taken a wee extra little something to supplement my restarting the Lithium and rested at home with a friend by my side. Two days later, I would be able to care for myself again. Hospital Staff living in the Fear/Scarcity mindset were a risk to my Health. In Medical Terms: Iatrogenic harm. I would have recovered uneventfully by my own care at home. Of that, I am sure.

We have such a long history with this Abusive Behavior. I boldly state that we do not even know the Natural History (see prior story “Wisdom Teeth…”) of so many of these conditions anymore. Are we painting every patient with the same brush, so to speak? When looking through the lens of Fear, Love will appear invisible.

I now hold strong in the belief that feeling emotions is an important therapeutic activity. If that feeling requires ranting, that is a pretty safe form of therapy. It is not known to have a lot of side effects aside from feeling better. Scratchy voice can be noted if the rant is particularly long…and loud. Louder can be better in my experience. When your caregivers misinterpret an important therapy as a symptom and treat it with medications, you might Fall Down (poke fun at the large Fall Prevention Booklet psychiatric patients receive upon admission) or worse become Obtunded.

Dictionary.com defines obtunded as to blunt, dull or deaden. So interesting that my well-intentioned Psychiatrist chose this word to describe his care. To come alive can appear a little alarming to the uninitiated… Mind the Gap (described in the story Lost in Translation).

My Hypothesis In a Nutshell.

The Moral of the Story: Watermelon Milk comes from Watermelon Cows. Always.

P.S. – Want to add that there is an appeal process to the Commitment – aka Imprisonment. As is often the case, I learn by doing. First admission I appealed but withdrew it once I perceived the Doctor and I were cooperating. I took the medications. Gained 20 pounds in 1 month – nice drugs man. I had felt I would be home right away. Yes, sometimes I am wrong. This was one of those times. A fellow patient who had his hearing the night mine was scheduled won and was discharged immediately around my day 10. I was shocked…and dismayed. I felt betrayed. I did not think the system was so sneeky. I recall working in this system. Hmmmm… It had changed apparently! By the time I figured it out, my new appeal was scheduled to be heard after the 30 days was up. So second go around, I applied for appeal instantly. Now I get it! I am a slow learner. The soonest I could be heard was 13 days into my admission (Appeal is the latest rage in Committed Mental Illness so there is a backlog): the day of my discharge. Now isn’t that a coincidence? My appeal was never heard because I was discharged hours before… My guess is I would not have been discharged had it not been for my appeal hearing coming that night. I could be wrong. I have been wrong before…

Wisdom Teeth: What Have They Got To Teach Us?

May 2, 2014 / Disabled Angel

Have you ever wondered why those teeth way back there carry the name of wisdom teeth? Well I have. I came up with an answer that tickles my fancy.

I was walking dogs with a dear friend, 3 dogs between us. Canines and girlfriends were happy tromping along some of Edmonton’s trails. My two dogs shown in the picture. Our conversation went this way and that as is so lovely between friends. Somehow we got onto the topic of wisdom teeth.

I attend with some regularity to my dentist: started seeing him when I was 17 years old. He lives 3 doors down as I coincidentally moved into his neighborhood over 10 years ago. He just cannot shake me apparently. I have always enjoyed our conversations. Never found any reason to go elsewhere. I am seriously skeptical (understatement) towards both the Medical and Dental professions -and any and all systems?- so it is nothing he should take personally. Many years ago, I am guessing twelve, it was recommended that I have my wisdom teeth extracted. I have only two of the usual four. Xray evidence shows the other two were never present. I have always prided myself in that I am evolutionarily advanced – ha ha. There appears no obvious function for the wisdom teeth so why bother having them, right? The two in place were impacted. The teeth pointed sideways and were up against their neighboring teeth. The concern was that they may erode the adjacent teeth (this is bad) OR they could develop an abscess (infection with no connection to the surface – dreadful) OR they could affect the alignment of all of the teeth – OK cannot really remember the details here. It was determined that mine would be very difficult to remove. I am older so the teeth are more embedded in the bone – etc. etc. He opted not to consider doing this himself but referred me to a specialist. Well I am always curious to learn more so off I went.

The specialist was a friendly sort. He approached the appointment as if having the surgery was a given. For me, I was curious. Let me learn about this and then make a decision. He appeared the expert as he rattled off so many facts and figures about the percentage risk of each of the numerous possible complications. Nice. Good to know your figures, for sure. I listened attentively. I was trying to be objective but I would be lying if I did not admit I was leaning away from having the surgery. Sounds risky and I had no symptoms. What would I gain to have the teeth removed? He had gone on and on about all of the risks of the surgery. My big question: “Well, what are the risks if I do not have the surgery?” Full stop. The answer was not nearly as well put together. Stumbling with words. Grasping at little anecdotes. Not a fact or figure was found. My favorite little vignette was the lady who was over 100 years old and developed an abscess of her wisdom tooth. This required surgery which was a pretty big deal for her. Hmmmm...The drama. I was left wondering about its relevance to my situation. I felt quite encouraged that the lady lived for 100 years without a wisdom tooth problem. What are the chances of me living over 100 and developing an abscess of the wisdom tooth? It sounded kind of comical to me. Of course, he could not answer that. BUT it could happen…I forget any of the other details.

I was left with the idea that the Dental profession did not know the Natural History of impacted wisdom teeth. My scientific mind was displeased by this. I teasingly encouraged both my own Dentist and this specialist to do the research. Would this not be a very common condition? The public would be well-served with this knowledge. What is the Natural History of impacted wisdom teeth in today’s age? I am loving the title of this fictitious study. That was then. It is very possible that it has now been published for all I know. Today, I do not really care that much if that research ever gets done. Maybe there is an easier way…(trust your instincts … heresy).

Medical School taught many things. A large proportion seemed awfully esoteric. But I was impressed with the importance of Natural History (meaning what happens when a disease is left alone with no treatment). There are many examples that when someone stopped to study the Natural History of a condition, it was determined that the treatment was worse than the disease. Some types of Prostate Cancer are pretty slow growing and can be the kind of condition that a man dies with but not from. Having the prostate removed could leave patients with all kinds of unwelcome effects relative to doing nothing. Removing tonsils is another example where once they were routinely extracted with little provocation. Over time it was determined that the majority of indications for tonsillectomy are no longer recognized. It is a rare person who ever has their tonsils extracted in today’s age relative to decades ago.

Discussion with my friend began because her son was booked to have his wisdom teeth removed. Her reaction to my story prompted me to write it out. Our conversation led to how powerful fear is. Whenever we are faced with a health-related decision we wonder, “Am I in control here?” I could not see myself ever having any issues related to my wisdom teeth. Not that two Dentists did not try to sell me on the idea. I chose not to buy it. My life is an experiment of sorts. As is every single one of our lives. I am willing to embrace uncertainty. My short Medical career emphasized how much less certainty there is than we might like to believe within Medical Science. (Sorry, I do not mean to frighten you. But…) I take full responsibility for my decisions. Even had there been Natural History research done, it would not really tell me my future experience. The past is the past. That study group is that group. There are so many variables individual to individual, I cannot really assume any research cohort holds 100% relevance for my individual experience. It is a problem long known in the Scientific Community. Medical Science considers what is best for the population in most of its decisions. This does not necessarily serve every individual. It will serve some.

When the biggest reason for a decision is playing into fear, I would not choose that decision. Intuition and/or heart-based decision making would trump any and all fear-based decisions. So my life can stand as my best version example of this trusting of my Self. I believe that we all are in the best positions to make decisions for ourselves. When we hand over the reigns to someone else deemed more knowledgeable, we are not stepping into our power but giving it away. Not that we cannot take in the information from deemed specialists. When we have strong inner intuitive forces giving us guidance, it goes against us to ignore those. There is the counter argument that I opted out of surgery because I was afraid. Who really knows? This is my story. I am sticking with it. So when I heard myself describing this important shift in my decision making rules to my friend, it answered my ‘tongue in cheek’ question of what wisdom teeth can teach us. Did that make any sense? I have come to embrace my long-winded storytelling style. Fiction or non-fiction? That is for you to choose…

Disclaimer: I am a Storyteller. This story is not intended to be used as Medical or Dental advice related to your own personal care. Please do not let my credentials lead you astray. You read this at your own risk. Tee hee…

Here is a little video clip talking about Fear that I like called “No Fear in the Now” by Sadhguru: (very short 1 minute, click title to view )

Love his words: It amounts to “socially accepted levels of insanity…Suffering something that does not exist.”… “If you are rooted in reality, there would be no fear”.

Approaching 50 years in “the game” and I have come to believe to my core in the importance of experiential learning.

I often say, “Let the moment teach me”. I am still developing my ability to be present in the moment. Improved way to live in my experience…

P.S. Looked for a song to go with this story. First time that I had been unable to come up with something. So I searched You Tube and typed in wisdom. I saw that wisdom teeth funny was a choice. Page upon page of videos were there that I assume to be a parent enjoying the suffering of their teenaged or young adult who had just had their wisdom teeth out. Mmmmm…. Held no interest to me. My inquiring mind was wondering how many of those procedures were truly required? No way to ever know…

So I broke down and watched one that was titled “Wisdom Tooth Girl Finally Meets Ellen”. Hey, where there is Ellen, there is fun! BUT….it was a girl under the influence of narcotics used in the surgery thinking one of the staff was Ellen Degeneres (who does look a little like Ellen). So maybe the narcotic antics was what all those other videos were about. Don’t care to find out.

Eureka!! I guess I was looking for Reel Wisdom (7 minutes, click title to view)

It is a montage of clips of wisdom from an array of movies that we love.

Wrote Spring 2013

Ode To Forrest Gump

April 29, 2014 / Disabled Angel

The Assassination of John F. Kennedy. Historical event. I was impressed by my parents account of the huge impact felt by everyone in the world. I love hearing stories about the old days. Both parents were in the same school when the JFK news flash hit. All students were ceremoniously gathered to hear the sad news from their teachers, mostly Nuns in this devoutly Catholic School on the Canadian Prairies in Saskatchewan. The collective mourning is powerful. Many times, I have heard other baby boomers describe their experience of the incident. Some events hold world significance. Similar was when the commercial planes struck the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on Sept. 11, 2001.

I can recall my own 9-11 story. I was just enjoying a normal morning with my 2 preschool kids. Jacques, a year old, was napping. Elise, 4 years old, was playing independently in the basement. The phone rang – my mom. She was at work. It was the rarest event to receive a call from her either during or after work hours. She was not the talk on the phone type (opposite to myself). Her calls were mostly related to booking a social event for the family: down and dirty, no extraneous details. No chit chat. So I was pleasantly surprised to hear from her. Immediately noted her tone was different. She informed me of the news. She rightly assumed that I was unaware of the world event. My knees felt weak. We actually just hung together on the phone trying to integrate this information. What did this mean? That 2^nd plane hitting had the world wondering, how many events had been planned here? Were we safe? Not really sure. It was so comforting that my mom was the person delivering this headline. We appreciated each other in this strange moment. Finally, we had to end the call. Like everyone, I was in shock. I just existed in suspended animation. I recall feeling so blank. I did not want to take off in panic but it would be so easy to do. I found myself wandering back to Elise in the basement. I did not speak. I would go and watch her play. Well, she started talking … about burning buildings. “Mama, I see a lot of smoke. There are some buildings on fire.” I cocked my head to the side. Did she overhear my conversation with my mom? I did not think so. What did I say out loud? I could not really remember. Hmmmm… Was she aware of this via telepathy? With me and my mom? From another source? I was kind of freaked out by this. She just looked to me for my reaction. I tried to remain neutral. After a long pause, I shared with her the statement that some big buildings were on fire in New York. I certainly opened my mind to the idea that Elise had vision and capabilities different from my own. In the weeks following, our family cocooned in our home – not going out for social events- and just thankful for our little patch of Paradise- along with the rest of the world.

“Where Were You When The World Stopped Turning” by Alan Jackson.

On a brighter note, I have just today declared in my own mind that seeing Forrest Gump, the movie, is another of these profound Universal moments. I have come to understand that many people like me (whatever that means) were very inspired by this phenomenal movie. I deemed it my “Favorite movie of all time” the instant I left the theatre shortly after its release. I did not fully understand why at that moment. I can fondly return to that monumental minute (and have so many times). There is not another movie that has had this impact on me. It was this moment that I have come back to over and over. I just looked up at the sky on that fateful dark, cold and clear night. Pause. I thought to myself “that was the best movie I have ever seen!”. Forrest looked at the world through rose-colored glasses so to speak and look at the results! So uplifting!!! The magic in the seamless application of historical clips – Yes! The endearing leading man with the Southern accent- yes! His deep and faithful affection for his friend, Bubba- Yes! The tortured character, Captain Dan who redeems himself in the end…via Forrest’s modelling – Yes! The big dreams, seemingly impossible, achieved – Yes! The loving mother who saw the perfection in her son and ensured he saw it too – Yes! The deep romantic, committed love for his girl eventually bore fruit. Forrest did fully experience his True Love, Ginny – Yes! Weaving in history amongst this Fiction – it was soooo fascinating. I added the quote, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know which one you are going to get” to my personal vocabulary – pulling it out regularly whenever I saw an opening. I vowed, right then and there, to purchase this movie at the earliest opportunity with the commitment to watch it with my kids at the appropriate time in their development. I really wanted to use it as a tool to discuss the Philosophy of Life. Keep in mind that I was a Newlywed to my Med School sweetheart at this time. I was committed to having a Family but there was no specific idea of when. The topic of having kids was not in my life or relationship otherwise.

It was months later, browsing in a local Independently-Owned Video Rental store (long out of business when Blockbuster entered the neighborhood), I saw the used copy of the Forrest Gump Movie. I bought it without hesitation. I have partially fulfilled my destiny. It was one of the first DVD’s that I owned. I was slow to get onto this idea of owning DVD’s. Watching a movie twice always struck me as counter-intuitive. There are a few movies that I have come to enjoy rewatching – usually comedy or musical.

“I am nothing if not adaptable…”

Well, that copy of Forrest Gump was not watched again until Elise, my first born, was 12 years old. Over the years, I heard myself declare that I would watch it some cold, dark winter night (it was my favorite movie of all time after all) when I needed a little lift…but I never actually did it. The DVD just sat on the shelf for untold years. I had mentioned to Elise my plan and again, did not really make it specific. One day, Elise recalled that I wanted to watch this movie with her, “Can we, Mama?” YES! Well, my enthusiasm for this big event had Elise very curious.

“I am nothing if not enthusiastic…”.

We watched our schedule for the right moment as I felt that Jacques and Jean-Luc were too young for some of the content. OK, I now recall that I had forced Elise and Jacques to watch the opening scene of the feather floating through the air…so Beautiful.

Opening Feather Scene of Forrest Gump

I was reminded of it by Veggie Tales – a most awesome creative cartoon series: hilarious in such a quirky way. The Veggie Tales had a ritual of including a “Silly Song” and one of them was their version of this Forrest Gump scene.

Veggie Tales: Larry’s High Silk Hat – Silly Song An artistic contrast to Forrest Gump…

Watching Forrest Gump with Elise (boys all occupied elsewhere) is a treasured memory. There were a couple of moments where she turned her head – those oh, so embarrassing to be watching with your mom scenes – remember those? But experiencing it together and the discussions that followed were heaven for me…and I think for her too. Two years later, Jacques started asking for his milestone moment watching Forrest Gump with me. He was only 11 years old. I had it in my mind that I would wait until 12 like for Elise. Well that did not last long. When Jacques gets something in his head, it would take a whoooole lot of energy to prevent his will from being fulfilled. I have always said, from birth onwards, that Jacques would never be left in the Forest (love the pun here…ha ha) to starve to death. He just has a way of ensuring his needs are met. He is a good example for the rest of us. A strong force. I have no idea where he got that from…(?). Tee hee. Well, we never quite found the moment that would allow delay for Jean-Luc seeing the movie also. So JL was only 7 years old. It was so great. Discussing the movie with them – Yes! And now we could add a few more little inside jokes to our large arsenal. “You got your lemon shrimp…You got your sweet and sour shrimp…You got your …” (Remember that scene?)- so fun. Jacques captured Forrest Gump’s accent instantly so I am regularly treated to little excerpts.

Do you notice that Forrest is looking at his Curious George book in the photo with his son? We also see it in the opening scene when he is putting his feather away. His neat and tidily packed suitcase was opened with the Curious George book tenderly placed on top. Love this song Upside Down by Jack Johnson which appeared in the Curious George Movie. You must listen to this uplifting song. It is Jack Johnson & Curious George!! You don’t see that every day. I love children’s entertainment.

This past summer, I was intrigued with some You Tube videos discussing the Philosophy hidden in the Matrix movies. I vowed to re-watch the first one. In order to remind myself, I entered a calendar reminder to repeat daily at 7PM that stated “watch Matrix”. The daily alert that became a part of our routine led to Elise very mindfully choosing to watch them all. I was only enthusiastic in watching the first alongside her. So many grand discussions came out of that one too. So funny, somehow in my “moving onto icloud” from Mobile me, I lost my entire calendar. At first, it was such a blessing that the alerts were captured. I developed the habit of reminding myself of almost all events 1 day prior and 1 hour prior. So I always had a day’s notice if I had forgotten something from my calendar. Well, for most events, they just play out and then were gone but the Matrix reminder was on daily repeats with no end date. I occasionally do this when I want to capture a task that is not time specific. My version of a “To Do” list. Only one or two things at a time can be handled this way. I have a To Do app. but never look there. Once the action is completed, I just delete the entry for all future entries. So, to this very day, at 7pm I am reminded to “Watch Matrix” – a running joke. I have not really put time into finding the solution to remove this reminder …maybe “someday”. Truth is stranger than Fiction sometimes… (I add in: “Someday” finally came. Months later.)

Love talking philosophy with my kids! And they know it. They will often try to distract me (to stay up later for instance) when they see my eyes light up in that special way.

“I am nothing if not consistent...”

Wrote this early 2012

Joan of Arc

April 25, 2014 / Disabled Angel

Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark – Maid of Orleans (Joan of Arc) Remember this one? Trip down memory lane for me…

Have you ever had a strong impulse to do something that makes absolutely no sense? It should not surprise you that I have this happen regularly enough. Does everyone? I call it intuition. Myself, I have tended to doubt these strange urges. As I move along, I remind myself that I should not doubt, especially myself. That is the worst thing I can do for my own evolution and growth. These impulses/urges/intuitions serve me – in ways I rarely understand at the outset.

One little example was my urge to read the Joan of Arc story. I finally followed up on this recurring impulse in March of 2012. I wrote this in September 2013 so memory has lost a few details. Where the original thought came from I could not recall. It surprised me how insistent this thought was. Maybe I allowed magical thinking to take me on a wild goose chase…but it was fun!

Having a coffee talk with a friend, Mark Anielski (Economist & author of The Economics of Happiness, recommend BTW) was the straw that broke the camel’s back. When I mentioned that I was strongly urged to read Joan of Arc, he lit up in discussion of Mark Twain. I guess Mark Twain (many a good quote originates with him, I take notice) had a career long fascination with the Joan of Arc story. Really? Mark strongly recommended that I read The Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc by Mark Twain. I really wanted to comply. Mark Twain wrote and then rewrote this work. He felt it was so important.

Being lazy, the first line of attack was Chapters.ca. I saw the choices. The Mark Twain collection was quite expensive. I would like to have seen it in person. I order another version of the story…quite cheap. I was shocked when it turned up and was a graphic novel aka comic book. I laughed my head off. And read it in one sitting. So now I had the bare bones of the story. I did not understand why my intuition thought it was so important. Within days, I was having coffee with a beautiful friend (raised in Russia and culturally Russian, love the unique perspective she gave me). She was adamantly complaining about some books that she had purchased: Classic stories for her sons but they were revised editions. She decided that it was important for her boys to read the classics as they had been written. Hmmmm…. I felt there was a message for me. So I could not take my comic book version of Joan of Arc and call it a day? Guess not. I needed the reminder.

Mark had suggested that I go to a specific Used Book Store and obtain the Mark Twain writings. He had seen it at this store before. OK, I am on it. Urban adventure…
By chance (completely), I chose to do this on March 17 – St. Patrick’s Day. The location of the bookstore recommended to me was in the heart of bar and pub zone of Edmonton. It was a true adventure bouncing off the throngs of people congregating near Whyte Avenue. Many were dressed up in green for St. Paddy’s Day and already drunk mid-afternoon. Who knew Edmontonians took St. Patrick’s Day so seriously?? I stand educated…and entertained. Actually a very good day to attend the bookstore as the book search was unsuccessful so at least there was a twist of the carnival atmosphere. I took my fun as it came.

I was informed at the recommended bookstore that my desired item was sold sometime in the last week. I tried three other used bookstores in the neighborhood. I even peeked into the Chapters store but they did not have it in stock. Later that same day, I purchased it on Kindle. I was sure that I looked there first, didn’t I? Oh dear… I pushed the Easy button right then…”That was easy.” Funny how there is usually an easy way. I ended up there eventually. Lacked clarity perhaps? Maybe a little outing was more fun. Yes! It was my journey… Ha ha.

So I dug into the book and read it in reasonable time. The big take home message for me was Obedience. Joan of Arc was instructed by God and she complied, even and especially when it made absolutely no sense to her or anyone else. Doubts existed but she did not let them dissuade her. The voices gave specific advice along with the expected outcome. To everyone’s amazement, especially Joan herself, the advice proved successful to a great cause. So as the story rolls along, everyone started to trust Joan’s Intell (intelligence, information). Ironic that I wrote a story about trusting my intuition to read Joan of Arc: a story of trusting in one’s intuition. In the Joan story, there was God as the author of the ideas. I am willing to loosen that up a little. Maybe it was not God but Joan herself (same thing in my world but not for everyone), her highest version Self. Maybe it was more alignment to Self/Source than obedience. A story about Alignment. Is that not listening to our intuition? How do we know whether we are getting good, who is to define good anyway, advice? I do not know. But how do we know we are getting bad advice? No idea.

I decided that if I cannot trust myself, then who on earth am I going to give my trust to? Why not trust myself? I could live out following my intuition and learn how to interpret more and more with experience. Sometimes we take our intuitions too literally, to my mind. There is fine tuning required. I cannot think of another way to learn about our own intuition than to start to follow it and see where it leads. We are always free to choose along the way. We can obtain more information if we feel we need it. Push comes to shove, intuition seems able to trump all other forms of decision making. Just read all of the famous stories, watch the great movies, biographies of successful people. How many different ways do we need to hear the same advice? This short story I have written can be yet another.

You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

• Steve Jobs

How Do I Discover My Joy -Follow the Breadcrumb Trail by Bentinho Massaro (4 minutes)

“We want to be able to tap into the frequency of passion and let that guide us in our everyday life”. Bentinho Massaro

Excerpt from Bentinho’s video:

If you start to use everything for passion now instead of passion then. You start following that breadcrumb trail until they get bigger and bigger without explaining themselves…ever.

Before you know it, you are this ecstatic, expanded being.

You’re on a roll. This has become your new default mode.

Future disappears. Time disappears. You start creating less of the illusion of time for yourself.

You are in a state of magic if you are in a state of passion now.

You don’t need to know what it is or why it is. You just know that it is.

Recommend these words from Lee Harris posted April 25, 2014. I am a huge fan of Lee’s wisdom!

An Intuition Invocation:

I am ready for higher levels of intuition in my life.
I allow the process to move through me at the easiest and gentlest speed for me.
I am excited to see where opening to this part of myself will lead.
If I feel fear, I will allow myself to breathe and drop into the excitement beneath the fear.
I am open.
I am intuitive.
I am listening and sensing.
It begins..

~~Lee, from Intuition and You

That is what I plan to do. What I have been doing these past couple of years. It has led me to right here, right now.

Cool!

Wrote September 2013

Storyteller and Artist in Life