FLEX AND CALM: Fumbling Through Post Concussion Recovery

Concussions and the things you learn about them the hard way

2021-11-01T11:48:00.008-04:00

Hello world, does anybody read blog posts anymore? It seems like there are so many blogs out there that it's hard to imagine anybody will care about what I have to say. Except, I feel like it needs to be said. About five or six years ago (it's hard to keep track of time when you're busy trying to keep your head above water), I sat at the opposite end of a soccer field and watched my kid's head hit the ground.

I knew it was a concussion even though nobody else believed it. Just like I knew the gender of my kid while still pregnant, even though everybody else swore up and down that it would be the opposite. It doesn't matter. It doesn't make any difference at all what I knew, and when I knew it. It doesn't change what happened and it doesn't change the fact that I couldn't do anything to stop it or to make it better.

Long before I ever got pregnant I swore my kid would never play soccer because of the risk of getting a concussion. But, she wanted to and I made her promise that she wouldn't use her head. So she didn't. It happened anyway. Instead of headbutting an airborne ball, she fell backward while in net and hit the ground. All I could do was watch.

That was the first one. But it wasn't the last one.

The next time, I wasn't there. It was at school. She collided with a friend. Both ended up with a concussion and the other girl got a broken arm as mine accidentally stepped on her trying to get out of the way. It was years ago. They're still friends and the bone is healed.

That was the second one. It took a little longer to recover but she seemed to be better.

Then, a few months later she was in gym class. They were playing basketball so there were a lot of balls flying around. When it was time to clean up, she got hit in the head by a flying basketball. Before she had a chance to recover, six more balls made contact. It was the end of the class so it flew under the radar. As she was making her way to her locker, a kid threw a Nerf football from the other end of the hall and it hit her square between the eyes. When I picked her up from school she was green and couldn't stand up.

It was a Friday and there was only one week to go before Christmas holidays. I had heard that the old logic of keeping movement to a minimum was now replaced by recommendations to get moving as soon as you can to speed recovery. So I suggested that she take it easy but go to school. At some point between classes she found herself standing beside a cinder-block wall, chatting with a friend, when somebody asked if she knew where Eva was. Completely forgetting the wall she turned her head in the direction of her classroom with the full force of an individual that is oblivious to the cement obstacle in her path.

That was it. After that she couldn't get up for three months. That was four years ago. She's still struggling.

We all are. A concussion isn't just a traumatic head injury to one individual. It's a life altering event for them and their entire circle of family, friends, acquaintances, and every degree of separation hence forth.

The funny thing is that despite all the lip service, when it lands in your sandbox, you quickly realize there are no real supports, only a never ending spiral of misinformation, neglect and confusion. The more help somebody needs, the less likely that they will receive it... especially if they live outside of the right catchment area.

Hospitals, it turns out, have two things in common: each tries to distinguish themselves with a unique area of expertise that they can showcase, and each limits access to their services to a very close cropped geographic area... this despite happily accepting Provincial tax dollars. So, I pay for services I have no ability to access. Sounds fair, doesn't it?

Of course we tried going to doctors. All sorts of doctors. You wait months to get in and you drive for hours only to be told that you should really get the anxiety addressed. It seems the experts of the day all feel that the only thing to be done to help with concussion recovery is antidepressant medication.

How's this for dark humour? Patient: Doctor, I have a traumatic brain injury. Doctor: There's not much we can do, it's all in your head. Is it? Is it now?

No, it isn't. To begin with we're a little lucky I suppose that she needed glasses anyway because otherwise we may not have learned that hitting your head can result in a narrowed field of vision and convergence and divergence issues. In other words, you start to see the world through a fishbowl with blinders. So, we got vision therapy.

They started her off with syntonic phototherapy. It's supposed to help with retraining the brain to help with balance by desensitizing it to certain wavelengths. I'll tell you, every time I picked her up I was wondering if it was doing more harm than good. But, we had to do something and in the end, supposedly it got a little better. While that was going on, they also did conventional vision therapy, to get her eyes to figure out how to work right. So, eventually the double vision eased up.

About two thirds of the way through the government shut down the doctor's offices for a few months because of COVID19. By the time they were allowed everybody was hurting. So it was only a matter of time before they started feeling like they were paying us for the privilege of helping my girl. So they just decided that she was done. I don't know. Maybe they were being honest. But really I don't think that they were. They just made a business decision. Just like all the other doctors and other healthcare professionals who make business decisions about not taking overly burdensome concussion cases or not getting certified to care for kids under 18 years old.

It's shocking how few providers there are who are willing to help kids with concussions.

When we did finally stumble on to health through hearsay and gossip links that eventually, maybe, put us on some sort of path to recovery, we realized just how little we had done until now. Even so, we are just scratching the surface of related issues that must be addressed if the minds infamous neuroplasticity super-power is ever to kick in.

Oh, and we haven't even started talking about the immense controversy in the fields of mental and medical health: can you treat traumatic brain injury without treating the mind and the other way around. Most providers seem to believe that they can do one or the other but it's not their problem that they've picked one or the other and they aren't going to worry about treating the human body as one complex and interdependent system. That's on the kid to figure out... or not.

Oh, and we also haven't mentioned the link between hormone dysregulation and concussions. Consider yourself lucky if the provider you are talking to is aware of the link but damned if they're going to touch that one with a ten foot pole or a 2.5 year waiting list.

Modern reality: where dog poop makes people more upset than Kristallnacht

2018-11-11T13:01:00.002-05:00

This week something happened in a local high school that served as a reminder that Kristallnacht could happen again. What followed after makes that realization sink even deeper.

As so many communities do these days, ours has a Facebook group. Aside from the odd question about what contractor people recommend for a small job of some sort, there where three posts. Two of them really got people's blood boiling. One had to do with a toy table that somebody had left out and nobody bothered removing months for months. The other had to do with people not picking up after their dogs.

In between I posted the following and while I suspect many read it, most rested silently. Only a handful even acknowledged, let alone responded. It's not a sign of the times. It's an omen. A scary one.

This is what I wrote:

"So, I just wanted to share something that happened at a local high school this week. But, first, to not assume that everybody remembers, today was not only the day that many schools commemorated Remembrance Day.

It was also the end of Holocaust Education Week. As well, this week marked the 80th anniversary of Kristallnacht (if you don't know what that is, please take a brief moment to look it up).

As well, it is the week that finally saw our Canadian government issue a formal apology for Canada’s 1939 decision to reject an asylum request from more than 900 German Jews aboard the MS St. Louis ocean liner, sending them back into Nazi hands, where a quarter of them subsequently perished. This apology came on the heels of last week's shooting at a Pittsburgh synagogue where 11 more people died.

If you feel that these things are all far and remote, either in distance or in years, they are not.
This week, at a local high school, a boy ran up to the classroom of a Jewish teacher and shouted, "which one of you are Jewish?" to the students who happened to be out in the hall. The fact that this teacher is Jewish was known to him as he taunted the shocked observers and threw a bag of dimes on the floor. He wasn't acting alone. Standing, watching, by the wall were a group of girls. Though he ran like a coward when the teacher demanded that he come to face her, the girls did not run. They didn't show any sign of shame and they refused to tell the teacher who the boy was.

Today, the school took measures to punish the boy and comfort the kids in the class that witnessed what happened. But, so far, those girls, the willing mass participants, as far as I'm aware, were not punished.

If you pay attention to the news, anti-semetic sentiment is on the rise, even here in Canada. Even now, in 2018.

On November 11th, all manner of media will be flooded with beautiful photos and drawings and the words "Lest We Forget," likely followed by a heartwrenching melody. We'll likely see images of soldiers who lost their lives in service or maybe even due to PTSD and watch the few remaining vets, along with their modern counterparts lay wreaths at various ceremonies. But, unless we learn to remember the second half of that phrase, long since replaced by three hollow dots, history truly will repeat itself, and all those brave men, women and children would have died for absolutely nothing."

One person responded. She wrote:

"This was well said, especially in light of recent tragic events. My family stems from four sole survivors of their respective families that lived in concentration camps during WWII. Two of them were Jewish, two of them were catholic and their country was invaded by nazis and they were tortured in camps. The heinous torture that the witnessed and endured is enough to make you ill. We have heard the storeys from their mouths to our ears.

It’s extremely important to remember that people suffered and were persecuted for reasons fueled by hate and propaganda- and it it’s still going on today. And not even only far away. I have personally even seen swatiskas in a [local] park. That may seem harmless to some people who have never experienced such discrimination, but to those who have, it’s a terrifying message that you are unwanted here and need to go away. We have seen it time again where the creators of such vandalism take the opportunity to violently send their message to innocent passerby’s. I personally know of victims of such assaults in Toronto.

It’s important to remind our children that there is zero tolerance for discrimination of anyone. It’s not good enough to remember the suffering and thank those who helped. It went on for way too long and it should never happen again (to anyone, anywhere). I think that is the underlying message of Remembrance Day. It’s sad to me that those girls in your story cowardly did nothing to stop it...it’s a sensitive topic for many, but that’s how it starts."

Less than ten people liked the like button and nobody commented. It became simply another forgotten dialogue with one more response from me and a final. "Exactly," from her.

"Exactly," I wrote. "What we never seem to mention is that Hitler came to power through popular consensus, in a democratic election, on an economic platform. Long before the Nazis figured out how to gas in mass executions they burned people alive in pits not far from where the winds carried the stench of human flesh to nearby villages. People knew what was happening and said they did not. This is how it starts. A bag of dimes boldly thrown on the ground and a vile cat call, in a multi-cultural hallway, in a place where nothing like this could ever happen."

After that things went back to the status quo. Another posting about some mundate household chore that the owner doesn't know how to handle.

What did Shakespeare write? Something wicked this way comes ... . Oh, but, it's okay it was said by an old witch, and she was probably Jewish.

You'd better listen because this is how it starts

2014-04-11T18:58:00.002-04:00

At the National press conference held earlier today to announce the release of the Annual Audit of Antisemitic Incidents, CEO, Frank Dimant (noted spokesperson for grassroots Jewry) commented that many of the tactics we are seeing today are reminiscent of the antisemitism experienced in the 1930's. He called the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement (BDS) a recycled Nazi-era strategy - then used against Jews, now being used to target the Jewish State.

For the video of Frank Dimant's opening remarks visit www.bnaibrith.ca

APRIL 11, 2014, TORONTO -- On the eve of the Jewish festival of Passover during which Jews around the world will join together to recall their ongoing struggle for freedom and national Jewish liberation, the League for Human Rights of B'nai Brith Canada, is announcing the results of its Annual Audit of Antisemitic Incidents.

Canada-wide incidents of vandalism and violence increased by 21.6% and 7.7% respectively over the previous year. Only incidents categorized as harassment showed a decrease, dropping by 13.9%. Overall, there were 1274 cases recorded, a 5.3% decrease from the previous year's Audit. Reporting of harassment may well be down as Jews have expressed apprehension regarding possible social repercussions and retaliation in the workforce such as losing one's job.

"The sustained level of antisemitism in Canada when taking a ten year view which shows a 49 % jump should be of great concern to all Canadians" stated Frank Dimant, CEO of B'nai Brith Canada. "Jews of all ages are being targeted at home, work, school, and even at play. Notwithstanding Canada's national and international efforts to counter antisemitism, a strong pattern of this prejudice continues to prevail across this country.

"The numbers are only part of the story. What we are hearing from callers is a growing sense of dread among Canadians," said Frank Dimant, CEO, B'nai Brith Canada. "Although the numbers for this year are down slightly, hatred of Jews has veered so far into normative discourse that it is no longer seen as wrong.

"Antisemitism was seen by many in the Jewish community as a thing of the past. However, the de facto replacement of 'The Jew' with Israel, combined with the constant barrage of Holocaust imagery in relation to the Jewish state and Jews and its supporters create a visceral sense of apprehension. The fact that Europe with its Western society and similar socio-economic status to Canada is seeing dramatic increases in Jew-hatred and intolerance cannot help but awaken a tremendous feeling of communal unease.

"On campus, the problem is further exacerbated by unending streams of anti-Israel resolutions by student governments creating a situation where the once week-long Israeli Apartheid Week now spans the entire school year. At the same time, Jewish and pro-Israel students are derided as racists, Nazis and baby killers. This kind of harassment has marginalized and silenced their voice . That this type of imagery is so prevalent as we get set to mark the 66th anniversary of the birth of the Jewish state and 69 years since the liberation of the death camps is disconcerting to say the least.

"While Government officials have strongly condemned antisemitism including the rise of the new-antisemitism, Police and Attorney Generals have shown a reluctance to resolve complaints such that it is easy to see why Canadian Jews have resigned themselves not to report all incidents.

"We will embark on an educational campaign to encourage members of the Jewish community to stand against apathy with a renewed fortitude to directly confront bigotry in their midst while working with B'nai Brith Canada and its League for Human Rights."

A message in a botttle

2014-03-10T03:15:00.001-04:00

This is a message in a bottle that I hope you'll find one day.

This is a love note of the deepest kind that I know you'll stumble onto by accident when you'll need it most.

I'm putting it out here because I can and because I don't know how else to leave it.

First, I love you. I've always loved you. I've always known you would exist and be incredible and that is exactly who you are.

You are amazing and beautiful and talented and fragile and wonderful.

You are the most delicate of flowers and the strongest of people.

You are an iridescent precious gem and only ever need to compete against one person. Love whom you love and be who you are and know that you always have a home and are never alone.

Second, of fear I need you to know that nothing is yours to punish yourself for. If somebody (especially me) says that you are hurting them, that you are going to cause them to be in pain or anything like that, or worse, it only means please stop. But you are not responsible for anything beyond that...even if you didn't stop because you didn't want to or you couldn't. You are not God. You are not destiny or the angle of death or anything insanely crazy like that.

Be responsible but do not carry guilt.

You are a good person and have a fire inside you that is beautiful and you are wonderful and I love you always.

You existed long before you were born and will exist long after I die. You were meant to be exactly who you are and yours is to love those who deserve your love. You know who they are. For all the rest, as hard as it may be to turn and walk away: once is their fault, twice is yours.

Remember that the right answer when anybody asks you "who do you love" is first and always "me" because without loving yourself how can you ever truly love anybody else? I love me and that is why I love you because you are all the best of me that is within my power to give you. But I am not you. You are greater than the people who made you.

I am by far not your only fan but I can tell you that I have been in awe of you for longer than anybody else. You are amazing and I am grateful that you chose me. Thank you, baby.

l.f.e.

y.g.m.

Here we go again

2012-10-26T04:57:00.000-04:00

We're heading into the busy time again. Hopefully this time will be different but it is hard to know where the time goes and harder to know where to find the money. Just spend way too much on something but you can't find it in Canada so you have to pay three times what it is worth to order it from the States. Not sure exactly what they mean by 'free trade' when they try to skin you alive every chance they get just to get it over the border. ... isn't so much the governments as it is the couriers. I sort of wish I it was even half practical to go drive to Texas and get it myself.

... argh I never know how this thing is humanly possible but it comes out each time so we'll see if we can pull another rabbit out.

Bullies need victims and I am nobody's victim

2012-10-22T06:10:00.001-04:00

As a child I never got bullied. I got teased, tormented and ostracized. Large groups of kids would surround me and pick on me and tell me that they would kick the crap out of me after school. Once, a girl in my class opened to door to the change room while I was half naked so that the boys could see me. Another time this girl who supposedly had a part-time job as a wrestler followed me to the bus as I went home and smacked me on the head as I got on.

For years some guy used to crank call my house whenever I got home and say obscene things to me. We thought he must have known me because when I wasn’t home he wouldn’t call. Then there were rumors about guys from my school who had been arrested because they had gotten caught stealing or something like that and the calls stopped. When they came back, so did the calls.

I didn’t go to dances or have anybody to talk to at lunch except for one or two close friends who were quick to turn their backs on me when they realized that it was causing damage to their reputations to hang around with me. Some days it was really hard being alone. Usually I just threw my head in a book and read, read, read. Not to escape but for something to do.

I joined clubs at school but everybody seemed to belong and I never really did. I didn’t know what it was like to go to parties or experience that dreaded peer pressure. I watched a lot of TV and Nancy Reagan kept telling kids to say no to drugs and there were all kinds of warnings about condoms and so on. I kept waiting to put those teachings into practice but there were never any opportunities. It’s not that I was an overly good kid. It’s just that nobody bothered.

Then I started to feel like there was something wrong with me. Everybody had boyfriends and went out on dates and the one guy I met at art camp at 12, going on 13, went to school in Ottawa. Technically he was my boyfriend but even though we never broke up we never saw each other and I can’t remember more than two or three letters. We did go out once or twice when he came back but it was really nothing worth remembering. All I remember the first time he insisted on kissing me was saying “great, now that we have gotten that out of the way, can we get on with the rest of the relationship” and him laughing like I was a silly little girl and saying that no, we were supposed to keep kissing. He was 16 and back then seemed so much older.

Truth be told, I never felt all that attracted to anybody in any sort of sexual way until my early 20s but felt like I should have been because everybody else seemed to be. So I did stuff that I shouldn’t have because I was trying to be normal and wanted to do more than fit in. I wanted to be the kind of cool that didn’t care. Inside I called myself a whore and kept waiting for somebody else to call me that but nobody ever did.

According to everybody else I always got the hottest, coolest guy in school but I never noticed that. As soon as I would end up in a relationship I would try to make it THE relationship, knowing that it wasn’t. I tried to play house because I wanted things to be normal. But I always knew they weren’t.

Have I ever been in love? Absolutely! I fell in love completely when I picked up my baby girl and she, still and infant, patted my back as I hugged her. That was the first time I felt anything close to the sort of zing that you hear about and read about and see in movies.

But have I ever been bullied? Where I come from you don’t get bullied. You get persecuted. My people have been hated for years and the whole world is usually trying to get us. We are fighters and each time the mob of she-women descended on me in the school halls and outside, I fought back. I never just took it. One time I looked up and actually saw a teacher full body on top of one of them holding her off to try and break up the fight.

Sure my knees shook but they shook after. They still shake after. But during a fight, I fight. I fight with fists and feet and knees and words. Sometimes I fight thin air because of fear and pure adrenaline and then I get in trouble. Because now I am fighting nobody or people who don’t deserve it. I’m still going. Liking the Engergizer Bunny I’m still going.

Then I crumble. This morning I woke up at 2 a.m. because I dreamt that my house was on fire. We weren’t in our actual house but it felt like some sort of home of mine, one that was new to me but mine, almost like the way you feel when you go stay at your parents place after you have already settled into a family of your own. My husband was in a room and he had that guilty look on his face that he has when he comes in after a shmig. He never smokes inside but I smelled smoke and asked him if he started smoking inside now and we had a little moment. I pinched his nose and was about to ruffle his hair and kiss him but looked up and saw smoke coming through the ceiling. We freaked and he ran to take care of it. I ran to get my stacks of papers and computer.

It’s not that I didn’t care about the kids. I just knew we had time and that they would be safe but the papers I had to protect: our passports; our identity; then my taxes and all the business stuff, and then my laptop and camera. I could smell the smoke. I didn’t think you could smell smoke in a dream. I woke up and knew it was a dream, only peripherally double checking there was no actual smoke anywhere.

In the dream I remember starting to feel like I’m choking so I dropped everything and went looking for the kids. It felt good to drop everything and not care about anything except for the kids. It always feels good to do that.

Right away I google the meaning of a house burning down in your dream and guess what I get: it means that I feel like my external world is crumbling. How true. For the first time in my life, I had found a home to call a home. Everything felt right and now it doesn’t. Everything I was doing was for something and now that something has been taken away and I’m stuck with all the stuff I was doing and in the mean time there are people out there who think I care. I don’t care but now I am obligated.

So now I am angry. I need a way out and a way to escape and it feels like the world is burning down in a way that it never has before and do you know why? Because of all the things that somebody could say to me to hurt me there is really only one little phrase that I can’t seem to let go: nobody likes you. You are unprofessional and nobody wants to deal with you anymore.

Three people have said this to me lately. Why? I know their reasons and who (or what) they are. I know that they are doing this to try and intimidate me and to control me and because they know they can’t. I know. But I still feel raw. I hate them for making me feel this way and the stress, at my age, is showing my age. It is coming out in physical manifestations and for that I hate them more. Because then I get scared. I get scared that I won’t be there for people who do matter; who do care; WHO DO LIKE ME.

But my, this is a personal letter to be posting in such a public forum and let me tell you why: because I am not a victim of bullying. Bullies need victims like fire needs oxygen. I am not a victim. I am your nemesis. Now, you go worry about me because I will not let my world go down in smoke.

Sometimes I feel like crying

2012-10-21T09:47:00.000-04:00

It's been a while
I have something to say
Sometimes I feel like crying

Apologize, move on, keep doing
But nothing feels quite right

I feel so trapped
So indisposed

So used and trampled and abused

It's my own fault
The blame is mine
I don't know how to stop

The spiral is unwinding

Today was hard because I'm scared
Nobody cares what stress
Has done to my imagination

The more I try
The more I die
Inside and on the outside

I feel like all the fates conspired to give and then to take
Away from me the talents they
Instilled and then distilled from me

In the grand scheme
Of life and being
I know that all good

But my small fragile mind and ego
Have more than they can handle

For all my life I have been there
Inside and on the outskirts

Watching the friends and actors play
The strings of social interaction

They make it look so easy
Smooth

I think there's something wrong

Inside my head
The music plays
But not to anybody else's strings

My nerves are tattered
Frayed and snapped

I don't know if its over

The problem is that haters yell
And lovers watch from sidelines
So should I vanish
Dig a hole
Stick all of me inside

And then the more
Obsession strives
To choke my breath from me
Of little babes who truly need
What I am not delivering

It's time I stop
But I can't stop

I need to cry
I think

Social media etiquette

2012-02-12T05:22:00.000-05:00

Social media users are a bit of a delicate lot. On the one hand they love it because it allows them to stay in touch and share of themselves, their thoughts, their hopes, their dreams, their annoyances. On the other, they demand a hands-off approach.

If you comment it has to be a maximum of four words, and that's a stretch and should stay within the lines of:

:)
:(
LOL
OMG, LMAOF
I can't stop laughing
So true

... and so on. It really isn't a medium for any sort of true interaction even if you know the people, and used to consider them friends. Plus, you can't see their reaction and they can't see the spirit in which you wrote whatever it was that you posted.

The result is this detached society that is oppressed by self-imposed isolation. All these screens behind which we hide are creating a void and you are not allowed to cross it because it is not socially acceptable. Period.

And it's addictive. Such a time waster but once you get sucked in you can't loosen its grip. It's like a lover with an axe to grind. There is the real interaction: between user and machine, even if the machine is the length of a pointer finger and pointer finger.

I have to ask, is it too late? Are we permanently disjointed? Or am I only now waking up to the fine art of social interaction and it has always been this way? After all, nobody really cared how your day was even before the handheld and now nobody asks because presumably, they are always in touch.

Madonna rocks

2012-02-05T21:50:00.000-05:00

I never used to realize how tiny Madonna is. But I always admired her. She isn't particularly talented at music, or dancing, or acting but she knows how to put on a show and she is a brilliant business woman.

She's tiny but packs a mean punch and if I could even master a portion of her talent, as lacking as it is, I'd still be better off.

A deep, deep, hole

2012-02-04T15:03:00.000-05:00

This is the month of love, not because of Valentine's day. For other reasons. I still think he's great but he has his doubts.

I don't blame him. It's been a tough go. There's this hole I got myself into and sometimes I want out also. At least I want help.

I'm tired and guilty and frustrated and tired.

I look around and it isn't where it should be and everything is in the wrong place, piled high about itself. There doesn't seem to be an end or a way to dig my way out. Only a final end to fear and not care about.

I can understand the wanting. Hoping there is something "on the other side". The other side of what? Of existence? Of course it is ridiculous to assume there is anything other than this. But there is a hope that drives so many people and it is infectious and maybe even a bit necessary.

After all, there would be a whole lot of people that would become paralyzed with lack of motivation to function if they really knew that the only thing waiting for them after death is nothingness. A complete and utter lack of being, including themselves.

That fear and longing and ego all goes 'poof' like a smoke. Poof.

Is there maybe a vapour? Like when you put out a candle and then there is that trail of smoke and that smell that lasts a little while until it is adequately diffused into the surrounding atmosphere? Probably. But that's all it is. A remnant of something that was. It can't hurt or want or do or create. It is dissipating and perfectly devoted to the act of becoming unthere.

You have to go on and argue and fight and be because we as a group have come up with distractions as we wait for nothing to arrive. We have to want to care because life will exist until it stops and we aren't the ones to decide if it does. But when it does, it will just ... not be ...

What if its close?

2012-01-28T16:04:00.001-05:00

Maybe this is the end, all down hill from here? What if it's something more than a bad headache? What happens if I can't follow through on all the promises?

What if?

And what if not? Can't stop and paralyzed with wonder.

It isn't my problem

2012-01-26T03:21:00.000-05:00

I'll tell you what is and isn't my problem.

My problem is what prevents me from being where I am to where I want to be. If, on occasion, that involves me caring about somebody and needing to help them (even strangers) I may pause on my path and adjust what to do first. This is my personal choice.

It is not my problem if somebody else can't find a ride to my wedding... unless it is my to be husband, parents or minister. It is not my problem if some over protective parent decides to sign their kids up for way too many after school activities and wants to but can't fit in something I am offering. It is not my problem if the world going to come to an end when you think it might or might not and does or does not take everybody but you.

This is, yet again, one of those obviously ridiculous and completely inane statements that you never even thought you would find yourself re-reading more than less than once. But there it is, and still relevant because of the moment in which you find yourself.

What is more, 'the end is nigh' is somehow translated in the eyes of believers to 'the end of times'. Once again, let us define what is god and the end of exactly what. Time will not end as it is a completely abstract concept that carries with it some sort of finite hint of a beginning and therefore an end... relatively speaking. But relative to what? This is the question. It comes back to the idea that we are the supreme beings. That humans are the center of the universe and all revolves around us.

This concept flies in the face of so much actual physical proof to the contrary that it is not worth even perpetuating this myth. Oh, but except there are enough people to believe it that we keep bringing it back again and again, perpetuating the greatest lie of all time.

Let us regroup now. How ultimately significant is it to know if we are the product of a divine spirit and therefore the most important of gods creatures? As a life form onto its own it is our individual responsibility to ensure the continuation of the species. It is the role of any and all life forms to try and perpetuate its own existence. Same goes for the amoebae, same goes for that snail that wants to cross a busy highway, same goes for me, same goes for avid church goers and, same goes for martyrs. The idea is that when you die you have to die for something or it was a waste of a life.

Life is sacred. This is not a problem, it is an obligation and a universal truth.

My problem is not that some people feel that they have the right to debate the validity of others' right exist.

My problem does not even begin until they either tolerate, encourage, or perpetrate judgement on entire groups of people simply based on their gender, race, religious convictions, or nationality.

Ultimately, it is a contradiction of the human prime directive to assume that any man or woman is so enlightened that they can, without a doubt, relay and act upon the will of god by taking away what was not given by or of them.

Wow in the face of her

2012-01-24T16:43:00.000-05:00

Went and had a coffee date with my favourite man today. Sat at a cafe and watched him devour a chocolate cheesecake as I pondered how to approach the article for the next issue SouthFields Village Voice.

The title is 'The end is nigh, hide your women' and really is about the rebirth of the divine feminine.

By all accounts something big is coming down the pipe. Strange things are happening that people are unable to explain, and with ever increasing urgency. Still, it does not mean that human life is about to be obliterated.

So, I say to this lady in the cafe: pardon me (she was reading so I figured she was an 'intellectual' of sorts). But, how many women profiled in one magazine is too many. I explained why the question and her response was: god help us if that is the case. Women were not meant to rule. We are good at many things but holding positions of power over men is not one of them.

I was struck at this thought. She went on to elucidate that men are our protectors and it is not our role to dominate. We are best in their servitude. I had to check my long calendar on my watch to find out what century we were living in.

I am not a militant feminist by any means but it is not about subjugation. For sure there are followers and leaders but true feminism is not about that. It is about being treated as a human first and not being prevented to be regarded as such simply because of your gender. It is not about pigeon holing yourself into a predefined role because we are the weaker sex.

I said to her: look at Sparta. It was the women who kept things running. In every culture when men go off to hunt women are left to defend the homestead, nurture, and care for the young. Never mind childbirth, etc. Her response: oh, I don't believe that. Men are off doing what men do and women are protected by god.

... huh? At best, is she saying that men are in no need or are simply not protected by god (by her own logic).

I smiled, said thank you and walked away.

But is this my audience or is this what the great flood was meant to wash away as it renews the earth for another few thousand decades?

In the course of our dialogue she said: the end is coming, that's for sure. But it won't be this December. It is up to god to decide when the end of times will come. ... in other words, not in my backyard, and I am going the heaven anyway... don't know about you my heathen.

Okay, I'm still writing about the divine feminine. I trust that some people don't share her opinion out there and those that do are free to disagree.

cyclical abandon

2012-01-24T06:39:00.000-05:00

The world is a living organism that is continually cycling through rebirth, growth, mass destruction, and reinvention. Life forms rise and fall due to cataclysmic events.

Major innovations, discoveries and advancements are lost forever and changes are not always for the better.

People, individually, are insignificant and it is questionable how integral a life form may be in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps the only reason we have the ability to reason and create is to create a reason to continue existing until such time as we will not, as a race.

It is a natural function of any life form to perpetuate its own survival and as humans are the weakest of all living things, our ability to reason is the only thing that enables us to survive. This means that as a natural consequence we have the ability to decide, collectively that there is no point at all.

Going back to the idea of rebirth and recreation, and marrying it with the notion that we need to have something greater than ourselves to believe in, we create the notion of divinity.

Long, long ago humans devised the theory of a single divine creator. As long as ancient logic can determine, it was a single earth mother type of deal that birthed all existence out of a void, often depicted as her womb. Matricentric (a word that spell check wants to reject, and with little wonder) society was strong in many ways but not equipped to withstand force. Their sole military arm was in the form of the Amazons and there is question as to whether or not they were what they are professed to be anyway.

When greed and thirst for power arose the female communal norms could not stand up against the rise of a patriarchal, war-based system of power. To cement its dominance, the first order of business was to destroy what they could and to vilify and subjugate what they could not obliterate.

Naturally, to remove the woman from a role of strength and leadership it was necessary to destroy her. The idea of the Goddess was intolerable. The Greeks could not erase all traces of her from power so they change the order of existence. They re-wrote history, transforming the more powerful ones, like Hera into evil, jealous shrews and others into weak, proud,and vain creatures who lived for self-satisfaction.

Even amongst the male gods not all were equal. Struggle and strive, quest for supremacy became normal and divine.

But here is another theory. Perhaps the matriarchal pagan system was also predated by a monolithic, female centric one. There is no way to tell. It was too long ago. Still, there is ample evidence to suggest that the female deities who predate the Titans and Olympians where really splintered off from just one female form.

Is it not systemic of a patriarchal society to state that woman cannot be all things? She cannot be strong, just, nurturing, self-sufficient, wise, sensual, creative, determined, and engineering, all in one! For a patriarchal society to gain any sort of legitimacy they had to prove that no one woman could be strong enough to replace an army of men, nor that it took an army to replace her.

Though Zeus birthed without a female counterpart this never indicated that he could do without women. He, the greatest of all the gods, was lustful, jealous, and punitive. His female counterparts were all his weaker.

Some say that the dawn of a new era is at hand. They predict that the 2012 winter solstice will herald the rebirth of the divine feminine. Others cite a quickening of the planetary pulse as impetus for cataclysmic change that will reshape life as we know it. Many will not survive and we are powerless to change is, just as pre-Hellenic society could not stop the onslaught of change that would last tens of thousands of years. Just as the dinosaurs and 70% of aquatic life forms did not survive that massive meteoric assault. It is impossible to assume that change is not upon us. But what is there to do about it?

Only one thing. You cannot change what is not within your grasp. So do that. Grasp those you love and love them. Be grateful for every millisecond that you have with those whom you love and who love you unconditionally. That is all you have. Breathe them in and hold those moments in your minds' eyes. When you touch them - when they touch you, think only of them and forget everything else.

Do you believe in the power of positive energy? Forget all that. Live only in the power of that moment. That energy. That energy is the only thing that matters. It has no polarity. No gender. No self-awareness. It just is. It is life's force and the only thing that unites all living things as existing and the only legitimate reason to fight for anything.

Freyda Tartak is wonderful

2012-01-05T23:42:00.000-05:00

I am. It's true. I'm awesome. I'm not overstating things. I've accomplished a lot these past few years and I'll accomplish even more in the next bunch.

Finally things are starting to settle down. Beyond the dust I see that all the little things I've done before really do make sense and I do have all the answers I need right here.

illiteracy amongst us

2012-01-03T20:56:00.000-05:00

Today I had a conversation with this guy who used the phrase 'speak your opinion'. I opined that this was not proper English and we got into a very awkward discussion of sorts. Now I don't know exactly why but I know I'm right. I wish somebody would help elucidate this conundrum.

maybe I'm wrong. I have been before. maybe I can't remember his exact wording. maybe I'm right.

he's still arrogant.

How Helium.com turned me into a writer

2012-01-03T08:33:00.000-05:00

There are a many ways to get started in writing. I used to think it involved education and although I have some, it isn't in this field. So, I make mistakes. A lot of them.
But before Helium.com and Amazon's Create Space I did not think I would ever get published. I didn't think I could make a living at writing. Now I write. I write all the time and I get paid to do it.
I've written a book (Broken Axle Spinning Blind) that I am very proud of and I've sold articles through Helium. I also write for a local up and coming indy lifestyles magazine.
Life is good. I do think I have Helium to thank for it. It gave me the confidence to realize my dreams and with the new year upon us I can't think of a better time to give credit where credit is due.

For my loyal blog followers, thanks for reading. I did take a bit of break for a few months but will be more active this year.

I hope this year will be good to all of us but at the moment have nothing more to ask for.

Omens

2011-12-30T09:35:00.001-05:00

So I'm not all that superstitious, only I am. Probably shouldn't be admitting to this on the world wide web but there it is.

I don't like crows. I know, they get a bad wrap but I still think they are a bad luck sign. Funny though, black cats are just cool, especially with white paws.

Biggest bad omen though is entering a new year with a messy/dirty house. That's my mission today. To enter on a good note. It's an old proverb I think. Something about enter on a bad note and that's how the rest of your year will be. It's been a crazy hectic successful year but messy. Very, very messy.

I've got one day to make amends. Wish me luck.

Gotta love Big Brother (oops, I meant to say Google)

2011-12-28T09:56:00.000-05:00

So, I did a google search and then came to this blog to enter my musings of the morning only to find an ad for the company that I had just done a search for pop up on my blog ... creepy ...

No, really folks. Google is crossing the line. How about Google+ (no aliases allowed!) Even if you don't want to use Google, they'll find you and expose you.

My mind is reeling from the repercussions. Just imagine that poor woman trying to build a new life for herself and escape an abusive husband or a people in the eye witness protection program or political dissidents or ... you get the picture. But, some holier than though idealists in a padded office at Google central have decided that you cannot hide and you must be exposed.

Even those who try to escape an online presence will not be saved. Cross links are everywhere ...

We are all living in glass houses and it seems to me that the all-mighty Google is resting back and casting stones.

I say all this, typing it into Blogspot, a Google product.

Boxing Day 2011

2011-12-26T11:36:00.000-05:00

I feel about as satisfied as can be today. The madness is over and now for a few weeks of rest. There are meetings in the not too distant future and crazy deadlines and all kinds of obligations but for now all I have to do is be here.

No place I'd rather be.

a fond farewell

2011-12-20T15:19:00.000-05:00

After 41 years of marriage a woman suddenly gets diagnosed with cancer and dies 3 months later, leaving behind eight grand children, three children, and a very lonely husband. The hall was packed and tears were shed.

The pastor... don't know if it was just me... seemed somewhat bored with the proceedings but this was all taken in stride. Nobody was there for the pastor.

The most amazing thing is it was the women who were better able to holding together. The men cried like babies ... so did I, though not a guy.

Twitter is for twits

2011-12-20T01:38:00.000-05:00

So, I'm a twit. I still don't get so much of it but I tweet. It is amazing how much closer you get to the strangest people. There is no way that somebody I watch on TV or whose books I grew up adulating would ever get anywhere close to hearing something I had to say if it were not for Twitter. With Twitter I am right there, right with them. Unbelievable. Cool. Scary.

The point, of course, is to reach out and connect through social media. It is the intent to spread your social circles and expand your ability to interface but does it ever feel like cyber stalking at times.

Well wishers

2011-12-20T01:32:00.000-05:00

Got a call this morning from somebody who loves me. Seems that the past evening's conversation weighed heavily on his mind. He did not mean to discourage, only to shield.

It is the sort of rationalization that has kept me from producing all these years... the idea that my eye and hand are not trained. The point is that it could be. Why not? All it takes is the doing. It is not impossible. I just have to want to. I don't think I ever really fully realized that I just had to want to. It was never that I was not good enough.

With maturity, you do gain further understanding. I get it now and it isn't stopping me. Not anymore. Now, it doesn't matter if I will succeed at it because it is no longer the point to succeed at it. It is only to do. I am doing.

I am an artist

2011-12-18T22:07:00.002-05:00

I had an epiphany a long time ago. Actually, it was an anti-epiphany. The sort that prompts artists more talented than me to burn their brushes and canvasses. I've never been so extreme though I do feel mediocre.

I'm not mediocre. A bit average but not mediocre. Potential is there but so are many, many nagging thoughts, mostly put there by those who wish me well.

So, the epiphany is this: if you listen to the people who mean you well instead of be brave enough to try anyway, you'll never get close to quenching that thirst.

Do I want to be a famous, established artist who makes a living at painting? Truth be told, I couldn't care less. I have never been motivated by money or the impressions of others. I have, however, always wanted to have an art studio, filled with large canvasses and paint, paint, glorious paint, everywhere. I have always seen myself in the midst of colour and life and in a dream am too afraid to fall asleep to even come close to dreaming, I see myself fearlessly attacking a canvass the size of a house, music blaring and hearing nothing but movement.

So, I've started. I'm on my third painting and I wouldn't say they are particularly good but I don't want to correct them or change them. Not because they can't be made better or because I'm in a rush to move on to the next one but because each one is like a dent on the road to a destination. In each mistake there was a motivating purpose. It's only paint.

My question tonight was: if I display it for public view will I only be embarrassing myself? The answer: "no". My second question: does it smell of amateur? "yes", though put differently "it has the potential for great commercial success." Interpretation: I need practice. I need to work harder. That's fine. I need to study? Always.

But, back to "Broken Axle Spinning Blind", my poetry and my cover, ... no real education behind it. Only pure depth of feeling and lots of heart and I still love it.

So, maybe I'll hold off a bit before showcasing the stuff until I can show skill as well as talent.

Apathy

2011-12-17T00:31:00.001-05:00

Haven't written in a while. In part because I've been busy. In part because I have been thinking of shutting down the blog. Today I'm glad I didn't. I have something to say and I hope you'll listen, take note, and spread the word.

There's been more and more talk lately about onlookers observing as an injustice takes place. More and more, rather than intervening on behalf of somebody being beaten to a pulp, video tape it and post it to YouTube. Sheep. That's what they all are.

I stepped in today and when I turned around found that the onlookers did not back me up. If the mob had turned on me, I would had been toast and nobody would have helped. I went home wondering if I had been out of line or overreacted. I hadn't but those around me certainly under-reacted.

We tell our children to not get involved because we don't want them to get hurt. We teach them to not stand up for what is right. Would I change this message for my children? NO! I don't want them to get shot, stabbed, beaten... but what if we don't stand up anymore?

Is it because we are scared or because we don't care or does it even matter?

What do we do now? Those who will perpetrate are invincible because nobody will stand against them and they have no reason to fear repercussion until after the fact. Are they shamed by the public airing of their deeds? Does the fact that they get arrested AFTER THE FACT serve as some sort of deterrent?

Come on people! What are we going to do about this? What is the answer?