Friday, March 19, 2021

Volunteer


I've always felt the need to have a purpose. During times I had none or was disconnected, I would get depressed and sometimes suicidal. Here are additional thoughts on the topic. In the early morning hours, I often scroll through social media and read emails. Oftentimes, I note connections and synchronicities in what I am thinking about and what shows up in my feed.

Amy Penny aka The Healer Chick recently posted this YouTube video by Dolores Cannon titled The Three Waves of Volunteers. She also has a book with the same title. Something clicked, and I felt the sense of excitement in discovering what I came to earth to do. Even if it's only my imagination, it doesn't matter. The discovery propels me to yet another level of understanding.

I came here as a volunteer. For what? To bring love where there is darkness and despair. This is an additional puzzle piece to post-traumatic growth. I'd been gathering clues relating to birth trauma, childhood trauma, and the chain of trauma that continued throughout my life which apparently affected my immune system and locked my nervous system into freeze.

I had also just recently seen information by Robert Schwartz about living according to the virtues you decided to work on before you incarnated... an additional puzzle piece to post-traumatic growth. This is his book on Amazon which I haven't read yet.

If I volunteered to bring love into the family I was born into, no wonder I changed my mind when I got here. It turned out to be much more difficult than I thought it would be. Dolores talked about this part. In changing my mind, I froze, rebelled, withdrew, didn't want to stay here, and became depressed… thinking it was much more than I could handle… then concluded that I failed. With a sense of failure, I went out into the world attracting similar situations because I didn't know any different. 

Perhaps it wasn't about the traumatic experiences themselves after all. And if it wasn't, if there is no such thing as failing, just another opportunity to learn what works by eliminating something else that doesn't, can you see where I am heading? Thomas Edison failed 1,000 times before he invented the lightbulb.

When I collapsed in 1999 and ended up on permanent disability, I gave up on love. When I collapsed in 2010, once again I gave up on love. I drowned in the sensation of feeling abandoned and worthless. Every so often, a supernatural event would occur to remind me I had spiritual helpers, but I didn't know they were always there but not allowed to interfere without your request unless it was an emergency.

Here I am today, back to volunteering. I recently took on another assignment. Relax, I told myself. Pace yourself. I don't have to do it all today.

As I continue my quest for post-traumatic growth, studying and drinking up the contents of all things relating to psychology self-help style, another layer was revealed to me as to why people feel compelled to confide in me. Energetically, they know I am a volunteer.

In seeking recovery from chronic depression (and grief), one thing that is recommended is to volunteer for a worthy cause. I struggled with this one due to physical limitations. But eventually, I found plenty to volunteer for. Plenty. So much so, as a super achiever, I burned myself out. 

I quit volunteering for a while but soon new projects found their way to me. I must be a volunteer magnet. I'd easily spend hours working on something that someone else may have completed in ten minutes. I had a steady disability income, although not enough for everything I wanted in life (like holistic medicine and psychology), so I volunteered to use my computer skills to do bookkeeping and secretarial skills for local nonprofits. It was technical work. I could detach emotionally while I stayed busy. My self-worth was dependent on completing tasks… for other people.

Volunteer. When I got back on the Community Attendant Service (CAS) program in August 2019, I found myself volunteering to mentor beautiful young women who were sent to be my helpers. At first, I felt like this was a part-time job. I had to create a task list for them, schedule the time, be up and ready for their arrival whether I felt up to it or not. I got to practice a lot of what I had been learning. It took a while before I realized why they (and others) felt compelled to share their emotional experiences and challenges with me.

Another layer to all of this was being told I am a Heyoka empath. I blend and merge with other people and often don't know that much of what I feel isn't mine. It is others. Which circles back around to pre-birth… in the womb… absorbing the emotions of the parents I volunteered to bring love to… in the midst of their acting out their personal wounded, traumatized inner children.

Volunteer. I compensated for my desire to volunteer by joining clubs and non-profit organizations, volunteering to be their secretary, social media admin, public relations person, and/or bookkeeper. I volunteered to help people get their stories/books published. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I ended up volunteering to study all the healing modalities I'd need to improve my personal health because I couldn't afford to pay others for these services.

Volunteer. As I circle back around into my original plan to bring love into my family, COVID brought the opportunity for my family members to learn how to use video conferencing technology. Because I had to learn how to use it myself, I decided to try getting my remaining family members connected via Zoom. It's been a wonderful reunion and success but also has its challenges. I often feel just as drained after a video visit as I do if I had visited in person. I want the visits to be uplifting but my natural tendency as a human emotional vacuum cleaner is to absorb all the uncomfortable emotions and leave behind love. Then I have to figure out how to empty my vacuum cleaner bag… but first, I'd have to figure out that it is full.

I like this newly inspired concept of being a human emotional vacuum cleaner. Just like spoon theory is a concept of available energy, I can determine how big my vacuum cleaner bag (or container) is… and remember to dump it out regularly. Before it gets so full it bursts. Before my little bucket overflows.

Expansion. The sensation of expanding beyond my physical body when I close my eyes… expanding to blend in with universal life energy… and universal love… expanding beyond my storytelling mind, toxic thoughts, and their resulting emotions. Doing this without alcohol or drugs. Wouldn't it be nice to become addicted to expansion? I've been reading you can be addicted to toxic thoughts.

P.S. I decided the bus I am going to use in the bus analogy (continued from my last post) would be a yellow school bus. The thoughts that often hop on board are unruly children.


 
I must be their competent bus driver and pay attention to the road. Let the bus monitor deal with the children.

According to ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy), one cannot change toxic thoughts or make them go away. You must accept them and take them for a ride. Maybe at some point, I can upgrade to driving a luxurious tour bus. But for now, I must nurture my inner child and the inner children of the people who are in my life.


After all, I volunteered to love. Including myself.

In the meantime, it is vital for my survival (and yours) to establish boundaries. Use a word such as regardless to restate your boundary once you figure out what it is when someone you establish a boundary with attempts to climb your castle wall to invade your space.

Yes, I like this analogy, too. The ultimate fairy tale always has a castle. Some get locked in a tower (depression) for years before they are rescued. But some will die there alone. Some live in dilapidated filthy castles, imprisoned in their minds, and don't allow anyone into their space. Some keep their castles spotless, and invite people to fancy balls. Then after everyone leaves, they retreat into their personal gloom. Some castles have lots of rooms for guests. Who are these guests? Your thoughts, of course.

Perhaps no one is who you think they are… not even you. Have you ever noticed a sense of transformation when you let go of false beliefs and create new ones? It is a possibility for everyone…

Here's to synchronicity. After I wrote this early this morning, I opened Judith Orloff's book Thriving As An Empath to March 19… setting your intention:

I will be ready for renewal. I will anticipate spring with excitement and embrace the ongoing transformation of my mind, body, and spirit.

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

Graffiti


There's a bridge by my apartment complex that goes over the creek. Many youngsters have walked under it, leaving their words and opinions on the frame under the bridge with thick permanent markers or black spray paint. At one time, I enjoyed walking under it and up the path to get to the park, but with the graffiti there, not so much anymore... not even riding my mobility scooter. 

I often wondered why happy people didn't write graffiti. Can you imagine what it would be like to see all kinds of happy doodles of daisies, hearts, critters, art, and encouraging words? It seems like only the angry ones write graffiti... at least the ones I have personally seen. Have you ever noticed that?

One day about three months ago, I sent a message to a woman I met along the way who has the responsibility of taking teenagers who are assigned community service to the job sites and supervising their work. I suggested this graffiti cleanup as a project. She had to talk to city management first. About two months later, she notified me that she got the approval from the city and that they took care of it.

Like (depressed) teenagers do.
With a roller and white paint.
Just over words.
Just to get the job done.
No fancy shapes.
No interest in making it look nice.  
Maybe they were the ones who wrote the words.

Now, instead of words, there are misshaped squares of white paint on top of gray dirty cement… a permanent reminder (to me, anyway) that demeaning words used to be there. 

Maybe I could have contacted the art community instead… the people who are painting beautiful murals all over town.

What inspired this post?

I am still doing the work of cleaning up my mind… which I recently heard is called post-traumatic growth. The book Reclaim Your Life: Acceptance and Commitment Therapy in 7 Weeks came in the mail, and I read through the first lesson. I love the analogy of your thoughts being like passengers on a bus. You are the one driving the bus, so you decide where you are taking the passengers (thoughts).

Then the thought of the graffiti came to me… my uncomfortable thoughts are like graffiti in my mind... words that poisoned my memories, my health, and my nervous system.

Graffiti.

Maybe I can search my memories for the offending words, write them down on a piece of paper, and paint white-out or gesso over them. Nothing fancy. I could do it like the teenagers did.

Do you think it will work?

Thursday, January 28, 2021

Time

Constant yet ever-changing...
the same scene yet always different
as the shadows move throughout the day.

What is time?

Years past -- gone in a flash.

A new month of a new year -- gone in a blink of an eye.

What I gained in 2020:

  • I discovered I am what is known as a Heyoka Empath and opened up again. This explained a lot of my mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical challenges throughout my life. Unaware, I had been collecting energy from everywhere which was draining my system.
  • Recognition of boundaries I must establish to manage my energy -- both physical and empathic -- and learning rituals on how to accomplish this. I must take spoon theory to the next level. 
  • I got satisfying answers to most of the mysterious experiences I've had.
  • I didn't feel as bad about limitations in going places because no one else could either... however... 
  • I had the ability to participate in meetings via Google Zoom for local clubs... including the Central Texas Writers Society... and the ones I volunteer to do bookkeeping and secretarial services for.
  • After learning how to use Zoom for local community meetings, I was able to establish long-awaited family connections. Since they had to learn the technology themselves because of Covid, they were willing to use it for our family visits.
  • I received additional financial support due to stimulus payments and SNAP funds.
  • I found Princess... a 2002 Ford E150 van equipped with a lift, power doors, a hand control, and a driver's seat that comes back and swivels for transferring, and I said good-bye to my 2008 Dodge Caliber that had been loyal to me for 10 years. Best of all, I was able to keep my plate 9DPRN which means to me that I've lived the 9 lives of a cat, and I am 'D' PRiNcess.
  • I produced six more books (one big one and five small ones).
  • I read other people's books relating to energy medicine, trauma recovery, psychology, and more.
  • I celebrated five years in one place.
  • I continued to volunteer to do the bookkeeping for Reaching Beyond Words... and Lampasas Family and Consumer Services.
  • I said goodbye to Jesyka (my beloved attendant) as she left to pursue a career as a CNA at a nursing home... and decided to buy a house in Tennessee. She had introduced new technologies to me, brought me jigsaw puzzles including a set of Thomas Kinkaid ones, brought me the MyShare spy camera so I could keep an eye on (and be entertained by) the community cats that assemble on my back patio, and passed on her Samsung 8 Galaxy phone to me when she upgraded to the S20. Best of all, she was instrumental in helping me gain more confidence in myself.
  • I watched amazing save-the-planet type documentaries which inspired me to do my part, no matter how small... which was followed by...
  • ...having my compostable garbage picked up once a week as well as all the plastic bottles to get recycled. Then...
  • I accepted an additional volunteer opportunity with the invitation to be the secretary for Lampasas Community Gardens, founded and launched by the same person who picked up my compostables and plastic. How's that for synchronicity?
What's coming up for 2021?
  • On January 5, I met my new attendant, Lety. As for me, it is a match made in heaven. She loves to grow plants, and we have many interests in common... including the love for pecans. We have pecan trees growing everywhere here, and she brings me bags of shelled ones. Her parents have a honey farm in Mexico, and she brought me delicious citrus-flavored honey.
  • As part of the Community Garden project, classes are being established to teach people like me how to grow food... at a community garden. I am excited! I won't be hungry with all my friends participating in growing food and bringing me a few things from their gardens... and as secretary, I get to keep up on the latest developments of this project.
  • Continued family Zoom meetings.
Have you created a list of the highlights of 2020 and started one for 2021? If you feel like sharing, email me... (or use the contact form).

Monday, January 18, 2021

Addicted to Sugar

Once upon a time, I was addicted to sugar. I stand corrected. Once an addict, always an addict. Little did I know that I was feeding a monster that was living in my gut… and growing… which drove this addiction.

You might think I'd be obese, but I was thin. I could eat a quarter-pound bag of M&Ms within a few hours, an entire bag of Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies in a day, or an entire tray of fudge in a day. Many times, I ate an entire half-gallon of ice cream in a day.


What was this monster? A yeast infection aka candida overgrowth that got out of control. 


How and when did it start? When I began to get sore throats at around age 18, and my doctor prescribed antibiotics. Numerous times. I kept getting another one. It turned out to be mono… Epstein Barr virus. At one point, I became so sick, I was zoning out while driving and repeatedly missed my turnoff. 


In the meantime, I was dozing at the wheel. Even during the day. When I was 21, I dozed at 10 p.m. one night and opened my eyes to see the car I was about to crash into. At 35 mph, my little Fiat folded like an accordion. Numerous tests were done while I was at the hospital for six days, but all came out negative. My case was a mystery.


We didn't have the term leaky gut back then in the 70s and early 80s. As food continued to leak into my system and my immune system continued to send the cavalry out to attack what was leaking into my system, I developed more symptoms… including what was initially diagnosed as bronchitis. I coughed so hard, I couldn't breathe. More antibiotics. At one point, I happen to get an asthma doctor at the clinic I went to. He told me I had been misdiagnosed. I had developed asthma. Then there was daily asthma medicine. If I forgot to take it or chose not to, I'd get rebound asthma.


Back to the addiction. Candida overgrowth is a real thing. While my immune system was efficiently going after everything that was leaking through my gut, candida overgrowth was demanding and feeding off all the sugar I consumed. Sugar is candida's food. Double whammy. 


How I managed to continue to get to work each day or perform my job is a mystery. I was always tired. I still remember my coworkers assuming I had iron deficiency anemia and giving me an iron supplement for the Christmas gift exchange.


In 1982, I got pregnant with my son. During this time, I paid attention to my diet and didn’t indulge in as much sugar. Just the same, I developed complications in the third month and was ordered to bed for the remainder of the pregnancy.


I’m not ashamed to admit that I went on Welfare for the first three years of my son’s life. In addition to childcare being a challenge, I just didn’t have the energy. We went to the local foodbanks which doled out hotdogs, huge blocks of cheese, pasta, cereal, bread, and more. I grated the cheese to make macaroni and cheese.


One day I went somewhere that was near a chiropractor’s office. They were doing a blood sample presentation. Take a drop of blood, put it under a microscope, and show you what your cells look like on a large monitor. Mine were all clumped together. The technician explained to me there was too much fat in my blood that was making my cells stick together. Sticky cells can’t get enough oxygen. She talked to me about what I was eating, and what did I do?


I quit eating fat altogether which I later found out is not good, either. You need a certain amount of fat for hormone production. 


When I got into my 30s, my mother met a retired holistic chiropractor and told him about me. He decided to take me on as a patient. With nutritional response testing and some other tests, he diagnosed systemic candida. 


Step one. Restricted diet to starve the candida. Neither I or Candida was happy. But there was the hope I could feel better. Among some other things, I was also given caprylic acid. I remember after three months being allowed to try bread again. I bought a sub sandwich, ate some of it, and promptly fell asleep at my desk. At least this solved the mystery of why I was dozing at the wheel -- even during the day. I had to return to the restricted diet for the rest of the year. 


Step two. Once the candida was reduced to what was considered manageable levels, it was time to rebuild my immune system. This process took another year. I remember rotating between echinacea, goldenseal, and astragalus because my immune system could build up a tolerance if I took one of these for more than two weeks.


I got to feeling better and got myself a new job. Each morning, the coffee table was supplied with complimentary danishes and other sugary treats. Once addicted, always addicted. I got myself sick again. But that chiropractor retired for good and couldn't be contacted.


I didn't just get myself sick, I didn't heal from injuries… and developed what was eventually diagnosed as fibromyalgia. Then came the cocktail of pharmaceutical drugs prescribed by the pain management doctor I sought out. 


I mentioned leaky gut earlier. Still an unknown, some of the symptoms it was causing was painful inflammation of my fascia. Lumps of scar tissue could be felt on my scalp, arms, and other parts of my body. And bread, pasta, crackers, and other wheat products were triggering this autoimmune reaction which I didn’t find out about for still years to come. 


In addition to sugar addiction, I became dependent on opioids and all the other powerful medications I was prescribed. 


As I turned 50, polycystic ovaries and pelvic inflammatory disease roared like a dragon and required a complete hysterectomy. I also found out I had been born with Spina Bifida Occulta at L5 (lumbar spine), that L5 bilaterally fractured from the pars, and my spine had been slowly slipping off my sacrum. No, it wasn't suspected MS that affected my legs, after all.


I am going to skip over the part (years worth) when I began to figure out the leaky gut thing and the whole process of getting off all the medications while learning alternative methods of pain management. If I could remember the terminology of all the human body parts, and the education was free, I could perhaps have become a doctor or other type of holistic practitioner. 


Actually, a whole lot of free education came my way. I watched each docu-series that came out that related to my challenges. One was on fibromyalgia that included sleep apnea as a root cause of chronic musculoskeletal pain… due to lack of oxygen in the muscles. (And remember when I was told my cells were sticky?) Turned out I had sleep apnea.


Nutritional response testing identified my hypothalamus was underfunctioning. It could have always been that way but it could have been thrown off initially by the concussion I got in that car accident I mentioned… and later by pharmaceuticals. Homeopathy improved its function. 


A 23andme DNA test identified I couldn't methylate folic acid into folate. I began to take a methylated vitamin formula and was amazed when carpal tunnel and ulnar nerve pain vanished.


D deficiency was identified. Supplemented with D3-K2 lipospray… which raised my level significantly within six months.


Sensitivities to foods I had deemed safe turned out not to be. Oatmeal was triggering painful arthritis in my hands, knees, and spine. 


There's more, but you get the point. 


As for sugar addiction, I don't buy any anymore. But I still succumb to it when it is laid out at pot luck events… while I notice others around me piling it on their plates… despite their afflictions with diabetes.


I'm reading up on energy medicine these days… neuroplasticity… balancing meridians… grounding… developing new healthy habits… setting new intentions…visualizing… growing new brain cells… attempting to heal the effects of trauma. 


Dr. Joe Dispenza says we can grow a new body. I know how the cells of each body part die off and new ones are born. Every so many years, we do, indeed, have completely new bodies. But there is another layer to this. We will continue to birth the same cells in the same condition unless we change the programming (thoughts, emotions, beliefs, nutrition, and more).


I haven't been to any potluck feasts in close to a year due to covid... which means I haven't been tempted to eat sweets. It would be nice if next time I see them, I could turn away just like I do with meat and other animal foods… wouldn't it?


I shake my head each time I see a photo of a child's first birthday party to include a cake with frosting plus ice cream. The baby digs both hands in and covers his-her face. The addiction cycle begins so early in life. Take away all the products in grocery stores that have sugar in them, half the store would be empty. 


You might be thinking there are sugar-free treats. That’s a whole other topic. Instead of SUGAR, they include aspartame, saccharin, sucralose, and more. All these are time bombs as well.


Here’s an article titled Experts Agree: Sugar Might Be as Addicting as Cocaine


Another one titled Did You Know Sugar Was 8 Times More Addicting as Cocaine?

Saturday, December 26, 2020

The Mystery of the Cougar

It was just another day in the life of Rita. She woke up with the sun, transferred to her wheelchair, and went to the kitchen to get the cat food she put out for four community cats: Little Mama, her two sons Munchkin and Ringtail, and Little Girl from another litter born at the same time. She opened the cabinet door and scooped two cups of food out of the container she kept the food in.

When Rita opened the door, she saw a man riding bareback on a white horse. People didn’t ride their horses back there. She watched him take the horse down the hill into the creek, where weeds had grown as high as the horse’s back. She looked away for a minute, and when she looked back, the horse was standing still without its rider.

Alarmed, Rita tried to think fast. Should she call 9-1-1? What happened to the rider? The horse appeared to be stepping purposely as if to stomp on a snake. Did the rider get thrown? About five minutes later, the rider appeared and climbed back on the horse. Then they rode out of the creek and back through the park.

The following day, Rita saw a woman carrying a bow and arrow… walking down through the high growth. This, too, was highly unusual. The huntress continued walking past Rita’s ability to see where she was headed, so she closed the door and continued with her morning tasks. But she could not get those two incidents out of her mind.

Filled with curiosity, Rita called out to Gertrude, Thomas, and Esmeralda… three mallard ducks that hung out together in the creek – known as the Quackers – because they often spread rumors. Most of the time, they just floated along quietly and peacefully with the current. Today, the noise of water splashing as they were taking their daily bath drowned out her voice. At last, a heron swooped down into the water toward them.

Heron: “Hey guys, the lady up there is trying to get your attention!”

Gertrude: “Oh!”

The ducks shook the remaining water off their feathers and waddled up out of the creek to Rita’s patio.

Esmeralda: “What’s up? Heron says you are trying to get our attention.”

Rita: “Did you see a white horse down here yesterday?”

Thomas: “I saw the white horse. Some stupid idiot rode it into the creek where the cougar was fishing for her breakfast. When the horse saw the cougar, he freaked and threw the idiot off into the water.”

Esmeralda: “Thomas, it’s not nice to call people stupid idiots.”

Thomas: “Sorry.”

Rita: “Thomas, did you say cougar? There was a cougar in the creek?”

Gertrude: “Oh, yes! Good thing we were way up the other part of the creek… or we could have been breakfast instead of the fish.”

Heron: “I only saw that cougar when there was a full moon. Maybe it is a vampire cougar.”

Just then, Squirly Squirrel appeared. “I saw the horse, the man, and the huntress, too. She raised her bow and arrow and shot the cougar in her chest. But what was strange is the cougar vanished.”

Rita: “Vanished?”

Squirly Squirrel: “Yes. Vanished. I saw it from the top of the tree.” Then, he picked up an acorn and ran back up the tree.

That afternoon, when Rita opened the door again, Little Mama was sitting still by the edge of the door looking down at the water dish. She looked very tired. Before Rita could say anything, Little Mama said, “Rita, I’ve come to say good-bye.”

Rita wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a lot of blood on Little Mama’s chest. Alarmed, she opened the door, but Little Mama backed off and slowly walked away. Because Rita was wheelchair dependent, she couldn’t go out on foot to follow her.

Squirly Squirrel returned a short time later bringing his wife, Angela. “Angela has something to report.”

Angela: “I saw the huntress shoot the cougar. The cougar broke the main part of the arrow off just before she turned back into one of the neighborhood cats.”

Rita: “Oh, no! Could that be Little Mama? She was here earlier, and I could have sworn I saw blood on her chest.”

Rita went to her kitchen and looked up out the window to see Little Mama sleeping under her car. She got her mobility scooter out and rode over there but couldn’t do anything. When her attendant arrived, who had fourteen cats herself, she laid down on the ground and tried to get her out. But Little Mama didn’t want anyone touching her and somehow got the strength to run out from under the car and off to another part of the apartment complex. The attendant reported she saw a stick in her chest.

Little Mama didn’t show up for breakfast the next morning, and Rita was very worried. Squirly and Angela arrived and said, “We will run around and see if we can find her.”

Meanwhile, the other three cats were off somewhere doing their jobs as security officers… keeping mice, rats, and snakes under control. They returned late afternoon for a snack of dry cat food. Squirly was sitting on the stump on the side of the tree switching his tail around to get the cats’ attention.

Squirly chattered away at the cats. “Where have you been? We have an emergency!”

Ringtail: “Ground patrol. Five mice, one rat, and a snake. What’s the emergency?”

Squirly: “Something has happened to your mother. Rita wants to talk to you.”

Munchkin and Ringtail cautiously approached the patio where Rita was waiting.

Rita: “Hey guys, have you seen your mother?”

Munchkin: “Not since this morning at breakfast. What happened?”

Rita: “I think she was shot in the chest with an arrow.”

Ringtail: “Oh, no! I told her not to wander around the creek during full moon!”

Rita: “Why is that?”

Just then, their cousin Little Girl appeared. “What’s up?”

Munchkin: “Mama was shot with an arrow while she was a cougar!”

Rita: “Little Girl, do you know anything about this?”

Little Girl: “Yes. Auntie killed a baby snake last month. Her mother turned out to be a snake witch and cast a spell on her. The snake witch also sent for the huntress to shoot her.”

Rita: “Oh, my! What are we going to do? Mama won’t let anyone touch her… so we can’t get her to a vet.”

Little Girl: “I don’t think Auntie wants to be helped. That spell did more than just turn her into a cougar. It also was a spell of doom. She no longer wants to live.”

Rita went back inside, wishing she could catch Mama Kitty and get her wound treated. She looked up out her front window to see Squirly running across the parking lot. Angela soon followed. They saw Little Mama laying under a car in the next parking area and came back to tell Rita. She got her mobility scooter out to follow the squirrels. Just as she arrived, Little Mama climbed up into the motor of that car.

Rita: “Oh, no!!! If the lady who owns this car comes out to start it, she could be toast! What do I do?” After experiencing a few moments of panic, she decided to call the cat lady. Teri was the one who founded the TNR program and knew these cats. Even though she had been up most of the night, she decided to come out and assist. She brought a trap and blankets. Rita went to knock on the car owner’s door and asked her to open the hood. But Little Mama was a very smart cat and managed to get away. For an injured cat, she sure was fast… and was soon out of sight.

Meanwhile, the city had hired a goat keeper to bring a herd of goats to eat up the overgrowth in the creek. He had his goats in another area of the park when all these events occurred and were moving them in that evening. He happened to be walking by to count them when Teri returned that evening with additional traps. He asked them to wait for him to finish counting, and then he could talk to them. Teri and Rita filled him in on what was going on. He was relieved the cougar didn’t eat any of his goats and said he would keep his eyes out for her. Teri gave him her business card.

The following morning, Teri called Rita. The goat keeper called to tell her he found Mama Kitty. She had passed away further up the creek… and knowing how special she was, he buried her, placing an arrangement of rocks shaped like a cat on top to protect her. He also tied orange flags on nearby branches, so Rita could find her.

Munchkin, Ringtail, and Little Girl conducted a proper cat funeral. Some of the other nearby colony cats attended as well. Rita visited the site several times, and Teri said that Little Mama was now the angel of the creek.

 In memory of Mama Kitty who passed away in 2019.

Saturday, December 19, 2020

The Adventures of Gnat

Introduction: This story was inspired after a tiny nuisance of a gnat persistently tried to fly up my nose. I couldn’t help wonder, if one did, what would he see? Enjoy this little tale I weaved!

(Previously published as an audiobook and for Kindle.)

Gnat circled around the face of the new universe he found, looking for a way inside. It was a huge universe... oblong in shape, with four branches as well as mountains, valleys, and unusually odd colored tall grass. Alas, he found two black holes and decided to fly into one of them.

Blackness ensued... no light to be found. Zillions of cells were busy with diverse tasks. Gnat tried to find one that wasn't so busy, so he could ask what the center of this new universe was.

Suddenly, Gnat was swept away into its depths, where both colors and absence of color presented itself. There were both things and no-things. Existence and non-existence. Beginnings and endings. At first, Gnat tried to fight where he was being taken and held on to the closest cell he could find. But a sense of surrender overcame him, and he finally stopped fighting.

Gnat observed a beautiful interconnected universe with planets and stars. But what he found the most amazing was that each of the planets was interconnected with all the others by a stream of energy. As he floated along, he tried to feel the essence of this vast universe. Love. 

With love, all the cells peacefully flowed. Cells aged and died off while new cells were born. As long as love was present, the new cells were healthy. But if something else like fear and anger came into play, all the cells were affected negatively.

Gnat wondered… where is the center? Where is the source? How was this universe created? Just then, one of the cells grew larger and began to speak to him with telepathic words. “It all began with two cells which merged and began to multiply within a sensation of love.”

Gnat felt the pulse of the universe get stronger and faster... was a storm coming? Pounding sounds got louder and the pulse he felt earlier got faster. He looked around at the group of cells that suddenly began working harder to bring a rush of new oxygen to all the other cells. He tried to stop one and ask what was happening, but it said, “Not now! Can’t you see we are in a hurry?”

It seemed like forever before the activities quieted back down. Gnat had to sit out the commotion and wait out of everyone’s way before he could continue on his journey. 

He came upon an area that seemed brighter in contrast to darkness and a group of wise cells was guiding worker cells in their tasks. Some of the cells were carrying other dead cells to a place where they would be purged to somewhere else. He went up to the one he believed to be the leader and asked, “What are all these cells doing?”

The leader invited Gnat to sit down beside him and began to explain: “Cells are like the employees of a company. The company is the organ that the group of people forms. Multiple companies interact to provide the overall services that human beings need, such as electric—water—gas companies. The management of these companies will sometimes have partnering meetings to share information and find out where the strengths and weaknesses are with the goal of making improvements in the operation of the whole. Each person in each of these companies performs a specific job. Sometimes lots of companies will gather together to have business expos.”

The leader paused, and continued, “We are all inside a human body. Each cell in this body performs a specific job. When an employee becomes overwhelmed by stress, he/she may take action that will affect all those around him/her... spanning out into all other aspects of the company which will affect its function. When cells become distressed, it affects the organ that it is a part of, ultimately affecting all aspects of the human body it is a part of. The same thing happens when positive emotions such as love, compassion, and happiness are predominant.”

Gnat sighed, trying to digest all that he was told. Then he asked, “Could you give me another example? Explain it in another way?”

“Cells are also like the leaves of a tree. Each leaf is an organ made up of the cells that make it a leaf. Groups of leaves are on a branch. All the branches feed off of the trunk, the main source for the leaves’ nutrition. The trunk becomes a network of roots that go down into the earth... interconnecting with the cells of the soil which interconnects with the cells of the water. Leaves also photosynthesize the sun’s rays, along with moisture in the air and carbon dioxide, and provide oxygen for all other life forms to breathe. These life forms all have efficient filtering systems that carry out carbon dioxide and toxins. Sometimes trees will get sick with a fungus, and if it is not treated, the fungus can kill the tree. Life forms can contract a fungus or other disease which can sometimes be fatal.”

Gnat replied, “This makes a lot more sense to me. Since I am a tiny bug, I usually hang out in trees.” Then Gnat asked, “Do you know anything about ants?”

“Ahhh! Ants! Ants live in large co-operative colonies. In some ways, a colony of ants is similar to the cells of a human body. I am like an ant Queen. Most worker ants could be compared to red blood cells. Some worker ants have completely different responsibilities and could be compared to white blood cells. The complex tunnel systems ants create in the ground could be compared to the arteries, veins, and neural pathways inside this body.”

After thinking the ant explanation over for a few minutes, Gnat asked, “Do cells have friends?”

“There are groups of cells that hang out together, so I guess you could compare them to a human having friends.”

Gnat contemplated all he was told, and then a huge burning question rose inside of him. “How long do cells live?”

“Boy, you sure ask some deep questions! Let me see… I’ll start with the ones who live the briefest lives and end with the ones that live the longest. Sound good to you?”

“Yes, it does.” Gnat replied.

“These are the ones I know of at the top of my head. Certain cells of the digestive tract live for only a few days. Sperm cells have a life span of only about three days. Colon cells die off after about four days. Skin cells live about two or three weeks. Some immune system cells can live for up to six weeks. Red blood cells live for about four months. Pancreatic cells can live for as long as a year. White blood cells live on average more than a year. Brain cells typically last an entire lifetime.”

It got quiet for about five minutes as Gnat and the leader cell breathed slowly and deeply. Then Gnat asked another question. “Do cells ever commit suicide?”

“Yes, sometimes they do. When a cell becomes damaged or undergoes some type of infection, it will self-destruct. A cell’s inability to self-destruct can result in the development of cancer.”

“Thank you for taking the time to explain all of this to me. Would you be able to guide me back to where I came?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ll have to take you somewhere else and have a guard escort you out. But first, I have some very important tasks to complete before I can do that.”

“OK, Gnat replied.”

“It was nice getting to know you, said the leader.”

“Yes, indeed, said Gnat.”

Four hours later, the leader cell finished his tasks and returned to Gnat to take him to the guards. One of the guards escorted Gnat back through the tunnels from which he came. Brightness became darkness, which then became blinding while his eyes tried to adapt to daylight again. Just as Gnat got to the back of the edge of the sinus, a severe earthquake rocked his world. Little did he know that he had caused the slightest tickle which produced a reaction of a terrific sneeze.

Suddenly, Gnat found himself catapulting faster than he’d ever traveled before. Out of the nostril, he flew and smacked so hard into a tree trunk, that the breath was knocked out of him. After a while, he regained rhythmic breathing and was able to return to his Gnat family, eager to tell them about all his adventures.

The End.

Sunday, September 6, 2020

The ABCs of What a Depressive Episode Feels Like

I had quite a few good months. My natural self is optimistic. I could say affirmations like, “I am one day closer to getting … " and really believe it. What, I asked myself, changed or occurred since then? I asked all the usual questions that included, “Is it something I ate?” It is no longer good enough for me to blame hormone changes on my moods. I used to take antidepressants when I fell into these episodes and stayed on them to avoid them all together. Ultimately, while the anti-d helped temporarily, they had their own consequences. At the end of this post, I wrote what the solution turned out to be (for me).

Below is the list of what I experience from A-Z. I’m not kidding, when all of these converge simultaneously, it is extremely uncomfortable (an understatement). It is not uncommon for an episode to occur after experiencing stress… both the good stress of excitement (I found a van and sold my car) and one such as the explosion that went off near my apartment the other day during a thunderstorm. I’m pretty sure something blew up by my apartment when lightning struck. I thought about the people who endure this sound on battlefields on a daily basis. It would have been nice if lightning could fizzle everything on the following list so it doesn’t come up to taunt me ever again.

Change. Many changes came up in front of me all at once. There’s always a day in the fall when all the leaves of most of all the trees fall like rain. Within a week, the following occurred. I found my ideal van -- a 2002 Ford E150 that was converted with a remote-operated lift and power doors, an alternate hand control in addition to foot pedals, and the driver’s seat comes back and swivels to transfer. The seat is comfortable, it is easy to drive, and I can even see over the dashboard. In order to get it, I put my car up for sale. It sold within hours. I am in shock that it is no longer in my parking space. As for the van, it is 18 years old and needs repairs before I can use it. Every day I don’t see it in my parking space feels like an eternity. My beloved attendant gave her notice. I could always depend on her. I feel the pain and grief of empty nest syndrome. The new one I was supposed to get never showed up, so I had to fend for myself last week. Fending for myself involves increased pain, loneliness, and exhaustion. The agency that services me has lousy communication which is quite frustrating. They don’t seem to have a system of notes that all the employees have access to. Frustration mounts as each communication error piles up. Have you ever waited with anticipation for someone to arrive and they never show up?

When things stop working, it’s time to buy a new one. My Epson all-in-one doesn’t scan anymore. I found this out when I decided to scan my songs to upload into Google Drive after someone suggested it would be a good idea to have all my music on hand… just in case I come upon an opportunity I had lost hope in ever manifesting. I felt like the Epson was contributing to killing my dream. I took it personally. Making decisions is not one of the strengths I can boast about. I had no idea what to replace it with. I felt frustrated. Fortunately, a trusted friend came to the rescue and made that decision for me. Now I wait… for it to arrive via Fed Ex… with notifications warning me that due to COVID, shipments are likely to be delayed. I was thinking that with Labor Day sales, it would be a good time to buy a new one and was advised to order one NOW because due to COVID, manufacturing of computers and computer equipment has slowed way down. Ordinarily, I would think this was a high-pressure sales pitch, but another friend had just told me she tried to replace her laptop but everyone was out-of-stock. In my somewhat isolated life, I had forgotten how much COVID had disrupted everyone’s life. I found myself sad about everyone who was affected. Now for the ABCs.

A = Absolute. All or nothing. Amnesia. Achy. Angry. Aggravated. Agitated. Annoyed. Abandoned.

B = Bitter. Bed. Bull s**t. What I feel like saying because I am fed up with (everything). Bumping into everything with my scooter.

C = Change. Catastrophe. Everything is a catastrophe. Claustrophobic. Crabby. Crazy.

D = Desperate Dissociation. Diving into the Deep. Defeated. Disappointed. Dissatisfied. Depressed.

E = Everything is going wrong. Explosive. Exhausted. Envy Everyone.

F = Fatalistic. Fatigued. Forever. Frustrated. Fearful. Flustered.

G = Garbage. Grumpy. Gloomy. Glum. Grieving.

H = Hot flashes, especially during the night. Hungry. Hopeless. Humiliated. Homesick.

I = Irritable. Insomnia. Inconsistency. Impatient. Isolated.

J = Jumpy. Jittery. I seem to drop everything I pick up. Jealous.

K = Knock over. I seem to knock everything over I come close to.

L = Lies. I feel like everyone is lying to me. Lonely. Longing. Letdown.

M = Maybe. Too many maybes. I need to KNOW for SURE.

N = Nothing. Nothing satisfies me. Nobody loves me. Not even me. Neglected. Needy.

O = Oppressed.

P = Printer. The scanner on my printer died. PTSD. Pessimistic.

Q = Quesy.

R = Remorse. Resentment. Racing mind.

S = Sinking. Suffocating. Starving. Shame. Suffering. Scared. Stressed. Sleepy.

T = Tomorrow. Maybe I will feel better tomorrow. Terrified. Tormented. Teary.

U = Unknown. Uncomfortable. Unhappy.

V = Volatile. Vulnerable. Van. I was all excited about getting a van, but I can’t use it until it is fixed.

W = What is happening to me? Weary. Worried. Weak. Withdrawn.

X = Xcruciating.

Y = Yearning.

Z = Zombie.

Now that I’ve said my ABCs, I will tell you about the wisdom that came through after about two weeks of this.

First, I sat down in front of my committee of little 5-year-old dolls to hear what they had to say. I didn’t get much of an answer. I think they may have been afraid to speak up.

Memory: Ah ha! I did what my doctor advised and stopped taking Vitamin D because my blood levels were nice and high! Didn’t I learn NOT to do what doctors suggested? I felt better than I had in a really long time with the level that high. I pulled out my bottle of Energetix Vitamin D-K2 Lipospray and sprayed some under my tongue.

Memory: Irritability, racing mind, and hot flashes turned out to be symptoms that my hypothalamus needed support. I was irritable about EVERYTHING and hot flashes were depriving me of much-needed sleep. Did you know the hypothalamus controls your body temperature? I put a dropper of Energetix Hypothalmapath under my tongue. 


Memory: Essential oils: of course! I have oils that are supposed to help improve your mood… including a blend called Cheer.

I was absolutely amazed. Within HOURS I felt so much better! I felt like I was ME again. Optimism returned with really believing I am one day closer to getting situations resolved. For you, it may not be your hypothalamus or low Vitamin D levels. It is best to get tested… blood test and bio energetically. The root cause can be anything from food sensitivities, dehydration, not enough sleep or exercise, estrogen dominance, the death of a loved one or situation, loss from a fire-flood-tornado, an illness or accident, or damage to the brain from a head injury or trauma.

I suppose you can also blame it on the full moon.

Meanwhile, in a moment of synchronicity, I just received an email from the Food Revolution Network with this post. Have more time to read?