Just me, a perspective

I was born on crisp autumn day. Quite helpless as I was blind & deaf. Everything around me was different. The air felt so cold on my skin. Mom probably didn't appreciate all the noise. I couldn't even hear myself. So weird.

As I caught a whiff of something, it drew me to it as if by instinct.

Probably because it actually was instinct, it was so strange & familiar at the same time. I could barely move, just scooted on my belly.

The scent was stronger as I slowly crept closer to the warmth.

Barely able to open my mouth, I cried out for my mother to help me, she was busy doing other things. My jaw felt so tight, struggling to open my mouth. 

Then, there it was.

Struggling with all of the strength I could muster, I pushed my snout until it made contact with the warm, delicious source. Then, I discovered that whatever it was, I could taste it though I had never tasted anything before then. 

It was then that I discovered that I had competition. There were only 4 others like me, they were also discovering the warm deliciousness with the sweet scent. I was quite content to suckle on it, even though I had 4 others to compete with. Then, one by one, more competition arrived. 

Seven more competitors.

When I started to feel a warmth from the sweet liquid that came out when I suckled, I started to become very sleepy. One of the others like me had nudged me so they could suckle. 

I fell over on my back, I was so blissed out, I didn't care. The sweet, suckled stuff had a calming effect. 

Within 7 hours, I had lots of company which meant more competition in suckling. The interlopers smelled like me & smelled like my mother at the same time.

Where was daddy? He was such a busy one.

I found out about him much later.

Drifting off in a state of contentment, I went. As the effect of the suckle stuff wore off, I woke up. My first taste was so much easier to get, now I had to compete with 11 others.

"Hey! Mommy! Do you know where that long wet pink thing in your mouth is going?"

"Personal space, mom! Ohh, that's why you're doing that. OK, Cool."

Something warm trickled from inside me. It wasn't suckle juice.

My life was quite easy as time went on. Competing with the others to suckle was a drag. Falling asleep with the others in a pile to keep each other warm was nice. When my belly felt the ache from hunger, something inside me told me to start scooting toward the sweet suckle smell. It was paramount to my survival to be able to smell everything, especially suckle stuff. 

Eyesight & hearing are overrated. 

Mom was right there along with the 11 other competitors.

This was a sweet time at the start of life for me. Then, one day after so many suckle times & lickings from mom, I heard something. At first, it was a bit soft then gradually became louder. 

It was the others. I could hear the others. 

Had I become a Borg puppy?

It was the others, like me, making the squeak & squeal as we twisted our ways to the milk bar. If I squeaked the loudest, mom gave me a little help in my awkward scooting. It eliminated some of the competition for suckle juice.

Poor mom.

She didn't squeak, just laid down, let all of us get our fill before she left for a short time. It sounded a bit like she might have found a source for her own suckle juice. I fell back onto three of the others, fell asleep until I was awakened by the 11 others making so much noise. 

I knew that I had better get over there if I wanted to fill the ache in my stomach that was growing stronger. Then, I felt a sharp stab on my belly. One of the others was crawling over me to get to the milk bar. The other one had sharp little things that dug into me as they clawed for traction, going over my back, my belly, my head.

"Ouch! Hey dude, not cool, that really hurt me. NOT COOL!"

With the other making so much noise, then, I joined them. It brought mom back to us. We learned how to get our mothers attention. Things were going quite well.

We piled on each other to stay warm as we slept, waking up to squeal for our mother to feed us. This was a pretty sweet life. 

Little did I know how quickly it would change.

At first, it was just a blur of suckling, sleeping, waking up to suckle again.

It was about 100 or so suckles later that I felt a weird feeling on my face right above the place that drew me to my mom. It was a bit frightening at first. Then, I experienced a soft filtered light coming in through the places on my face above what I realized was my smeller. My nose? I guess?

This was new.

Now, I could hear the racket made by the others, I could see blurry balls moving around. What was this?

Although they may have all looked alike, I could tell the difference. All of them had smelled like mom at first, now, they were developing a scent of their own. 

As awkward as this may sound, my own personal scent was also changing. It was a little bit like mom, becoming my own unique scent with time. Everything was ever so slowly changing. For me, anyway. 

A big change that happened one day was when I woke up with most of my tail missing. 

In fact, all of my brothers & sisters' tails were also missing. I went to sleep with it, woke up without it. It was nowhere to be seen.

Most of mom's tail was missing, too.

So weird.

There were so many things that were more important, soon, we had all decided to concentrate on suckling, sleeping, keeping each other warm. There was no memo, all of us just accepted it, did it. 

We were a family. Just to be clear, an all-Doberman family.

Dogs have been known to care for babies that are from a different mother, even from a different species.

Was there anything else?

In time I would find out. So many different types of animals, dogs, cats, birds, squirrels, opossums, raccoons, so much more out there.

Later on, I learned that all of them smell completely different even if

they look so closely alike.

Time went on with important things like sleeping, suckling, playing with my brothers, sisters. Sometimes even mom joined in. Not dad. He must have been off competing in shows, making more suckle chasers like me. He would go out into the big yard sometimes to run, to play, to roll in the grass. I wanted to be like him when I was done with suckling.

That time arrived soon. All of us were getting so big, we were suckling the life out of mom just to survive. She did seem more tired with time. She was also standing up to let us suckle on her. It was tough on mom. She seemed less patient, less calm than ever before.

One morning when we were all kicking up a ruckus for food, mom was off doing other things. There was a new, strange smell. It was brought out by one of the tall ones then placed on the floor. As all of us went over to check it out, the tall one offered some of it to me first. I felt so special. Opening my mouth to try to suckle it, it had a completely different smell, not as warm as the suckle juice. It was easier to get to as my competition was less sure about it than I was.

That soon changed as the others caught on.

Once, again, I had competition, lots of competition as the others caught on, began lapping up this new suckle. It was solid. It was only a short time before it had the same effect. All 12 of us puppy piled to stay warm as we slept. Mom was there less, now, the new food mostly replaced the suckle juice. We still suckled just a little, there was less to go around. 

Our suckle time was slowly evolving into actual eating, playing together outside. Plus, of course, making fudge & lemonade together.

Life was pretty much the same most days, after that. Eat, sleep, play, sometimes a little play time with mom. We were all getting bigger. The new food fattened us up a bit now that we were eating it all the time. No more suckle juice, just playing with mom.

One day, we were piled in the car, we were in the car for a long time. We were used to car trips, just ones that were shorter than this was. We had food with us, no mom, just the tall ones. We were taken into a very strange place. The scents, the noises, they were so different. More tall ones. One by one we were taken by one of the tall ones. When each one of my siblings came back close to me, not close enough that I could touch them. Then, it was my turn. The tall ones looked at me in that sweet way. Soon after that, one of them was petting me, keeping me soothed. Then, there was "the pinch". There was not much soon after that except, when I woke up, half of each of my ears were missing. There was no pain, it just itched.

All of us looked so regal in our different colored crowns. Looking at each other, sniffing each other. All of us smelled exactly the same. Was that the purpose? To smell exactly the same?

Then, the biggest change of all. The tall ones were looking at us, more, playing with us to see what our personalities were. They did some weird things. Placing each of us flat on the back to see how we reacted. Then one by one, picked each of us up by behind front legs, holding under front legs. Then, just holding up in the air with back legs dangling. Among us, my sister who was born before me, seemed to understand what was going on, the most. Typical older sister, she was quite smart, though.

One day, the tall ones were getting ready to do something. I wasn't quite sure. They were making noises at each other a lot. Fiddling with things, then putting the things they fiddled with in a pouch, then, putting everything in a bigger pouch. These tall ones often did some very strange things which I'm sure had a purpose. Hope so.

The tall one who seemed very motherly, picked me up, cuddled me in her lap. She was stroking my head, my ears, my neck. I became so sleepy, nothing mattered to me. Just the comforting strokes, a warm lap, being cuddled. She had done this before, this time felt different.

I had fallen asleep in the tall one's lap with clean fur, a full belly. Even the loudness of my siblings didn't matter. They could be so loud when one of them started up, the others followed. Sometimes I had joined in, though it gave me such a hurting head. Puppy problems.

Later on that day, a new tall one showed up. I was resting comfortably in the motherly tall ones lap. The new tall one approached, the two were making noises at each other. The new one reached out slowly to softly stroke my back. It felt nice though I didn't realize where this was going. More like where I was going.

The tall ones noised at each other for a while. The new tall one went with the motherly one to see my dad. This tall one also seemed very motherly. She gazed at my brothers & sisters. She looked at them, didn't touch their backs like she did when she first saw me. Hmm.

After lots of noising at each other, I was placed in the new motherly tall ones arms. It seemed that something was about to happen. Something that would change the course of my whole life.

The lime green collar that was on my neck was removed. A new collar with a different scent was fastened around my neck. The new tall one, took me in her arms, carried me out to a new thing with wheels. I was placed in the front seat beside her. It felt so strange, hollow, empty & a little cold. It startled her, made her smile when I crossed the barrier between us to sit in her lap. That is where I stayed for a long time. It was a bit scary; I could no longer hear the others.

My connection to the others had been severed. Maybe it was that I was no longer connected. I had left the borg puppy collective.

This was where my new life, in a new living space, with new tall ones had begun. There were new rules, new places.

The best part?

New toys, all for me.

This is the when

 

When you have been taking care of yourself plus a few other people for your whole life. Does it get any easier, like, ever? A counselor once told me that I had learned to be a super shock absorber. 

When faced with too many sink or swim occurrences in life, I had to learn to swim. Even taught myself how to actually swim in water.

Many different ways that life has tried to beat me down. Knowing that it has to be me to comfort myself. Has to be me to pick myself up, make a plan, heal myself with almost anything that isn't food or drink. Numbing myself with substances is also a no-fly zone.

When I find myself in a rut or a funk or when someone hurts me, emotionally, spiritually. It's all on me to heal myself. With each experience, figuring out what to do, having a plan B,C,D.E.

Some people will say that it borders on hatred & cynicism when I stay closed up, protecting my vulnerabilities. Choosing safety, peace & happiness over trauma, being used is a choice I will always make.

In this world where so many people love money, will do just about anything to anyone to get more money. More ...More...More.

No amount is ever enough.

So, chasing the almighty lucre, often stepping on others to get to it.

That's when the beast of gold oozes in. 

The golden rule.

The ones with the most gold can make their own rules.

Watching the people around me as they go through life with the sour & the sweet. I noticed that when they are grieving, there are people around them. Checking on them. Taking them out for lunch or dinner. Sending flowers to them, writing messages of encouragement.

It's rare that people do that for me. My dear friend, Janice, is my rock-solid friend. Known each other for most of our lives. She says that I am like that for her as well. Which is very nice. Win-Win.

After a 16 hour drive, arriving at my destination. A whole week or more of time with family. 

When I finally made it, me & my big beautiful Doberman, PJ. The bold, beautiful adventure started.

There were adjustments made, for sure. Going from 500 ft above sea level to 4,500 or so above sea level. The dryness, the adjustment.......

yeah.

It has been absolutely wonderful. It's easy to forget how much I love & miss family members until we embrace once again.

Duty Honor Service - Step into your future

At one time, being on the streaming service bandwagon seemed cool. As I sat down to review my finances, I realized that I barely used four out of the five I was paying for. Narrowing it down to CBS All Access which became Paramount+ or Netflix.

Netflix got rid of most Star Trek so, the one streaming service I kept was Paramount+ with Showtime.

The point was less about saving money, more about keeping from wasting it on that which I no longer used or needed.

When it was first announced that a new series was coming, it was more than just another new series. It was a new STAR TREK series. 

Having been fascinated by nearly every Star Trek series, being willing to start with zero expectations or preconceived notions.

So, it began.

Star Trek: Starfleet Academy

From the first glimpse of a 21 years of age, Caleb Mir (Sandro Rosta) towering over Chancellor Nahla Ake (Holly Hunter) looking ragged, angry, full of contempt from having his mother taken from him at the tender age of 6 years. 

His mother taught him how to survive in a ruthless, cruel, often dangerous world that often has zero compassion for a starving child.

Granted, Sandro Rosta is a full foot or taller than Holly Hunter. Chancellor Ake stood firm, laid out her plan.

BAM!

I was drawn in like a hummingbird to sugar water.

It has been so sweet since then.

Endeavoring to avoid spoilers, there will most likely be a few. Stop reading right here, if you would rather avoid all spoilers.

So far this series, which covers the return of Starfleet Academy, is so diverse. It introduces so many different races. Races that were present long ago as well as new ones & new adaptations of prior. Also a few mixes of races from different planets, entirely.

Jem Hadar/ Klingon

Klingon/Tellurite

Cherons

Orions

Khionian (They vomit glitter.)

The first Photonic cadet, ever.

Dar-sha

Of course there are returning roles such as "The Doctor" who we first met on Star Trek: Voyager

His renditions of live opera performance are impressive.

Commander Jet Reno 

(Tig Notaro) was first introduced in ST Discovery. She seems to always have a deceased wife or a living girlfriend. She's very snarky. 

Several more.

Loving all of it, it's heart breaking to me to see how so many people rip it to shreds. Many of them want the same Star Trek over & over with very little difference.

If social media had been as prolific when STNG premiered, it would have most likely faced the same cutting, backlash hatred.

Starfleet Academy is a fresh new take on cadets that are mostly teenagers, just staring their Starfleet careers they are often referred to as zygotes or little chickens or even kids.

Because they are.

That's what I love. 

The freshness of it, the newness of it, the molding of young intelligent minds to explore the universe together with wonder.

Maybe I'm easier to please than most, maybe my mind is more opened. Not so open that my brains fall out, ha ha! Just curious.

Curious about everything. Open to possibilities, wonders of the world & beyond to be discovered. To be experienced, enjoyed, enriching life as we know it.

There are just enough returning aka legacy characters to give it a feeling of continuity while still retaining the freshness.

Admiral Charles Vance

Commander Jet Reno

Lt Sylvia Tilley

The Doctor

Dax

Loving the show, staying up to see it when it dropped at 0200 every Thursday. Having prepped some yummies earlier in the day for each new episode, a sci fi love fest that Erica Ortegas would love.

Granted, she is in a different series ~ ST Strange New Worlds. Her oft used line - Bring Snacks - resonates with many trekkies like me.

Usually it's kimchi & stuffed eggs.

Sometimes, keto cloud bread wraps with goat cheese & kalamatas

Homemade Korean beef kabobs with shrooms & pineapple.

Still coming up with new recipes for when the new seasons air.

In the interim, watching the Artemis II footage is fascinating.

If you care at all about ST SFA.

https://c.org/tQtGfMfLhB

Reverse Strategy

There are many words & phrases to describe a person. Many of these which a person can also self-describe. Now, the tough part of it all.

How would you self-describe? Short term? Long term? If at all.

It used to be that I kept a very tidy home. Mostly organized. 

Dirty enough to be happy, clean enough to be healthy.

(Actually, I loathed that phrase)

There have been so many changes in life, for me. Mostly, over the past 2 decades. Maybe hundreds of changes, maybe thousands. 

Saying this, right here. The full responsibility is mine. The choices I'm making & have made are on me. Just wanted to admit that upfront.

Living in a small town has its beneficial points. Along with the sweet, the less sweet must also be embraced by the residents. There are fewer people, according to Google, only 8,000 in the town where I live.

While there is less crime, fewer stop lights, lower prices on many things. There are also fewer people which means that as an adult, when I moved here in 2012, there were fewer people who were willing to form a friendship with me. 

That could be on me.

This is a small town in Texas where blue laws mostly apply; there are more churches than gas stations or restaurants. If a person wants to socialize, they will mostly have to go to church. Most people in this town have family members close by. Many of them have lived here for all or most of their lives. They have very little room in their hearts or their lives for a new friend. This is common in small towns.

Am certain that most of the people in this town would like it if I died or moved away. Sad, yet true. It's just the way it is so I accept it. 

A very redeeming quality in this town is that when there is a catastrophe, the people pull together to help the one who experienced the misfortune. They do whatever needs to be done to help.

It's as heartwarming as it is beautiful to see.

The people here, are surface friendly. Even if they attend the same church that you do, that's all the socializing you will get.

If, like me, you are not from here or married to someone who is & not related to anyone in this town. Socializing outside of going to church or a quick conversation at the grocery store is all you get.

Myself, I'm single by choice, no interest in dating, no children & unfortunately my buckets of cash are held in a Nigerian bank. 😁

Small Town Translation: I'm nothing aka nobody.

There is one person in this town who helped me a lot, we took trips together, did some fun things, had some adventures. She spoke of people helping each other & she did help me. She won my trust. As I saw where she could use my help, I cleaned her car, cleaned her kitchen, cleaned her home many times over the 5 years when we knew each other.

#1 Mistake. Believe a person's words.

She spoke of helping me clean my home in return. It never happened.

With so much upheaval in my life, my house suffered right along with me. Wanting to believe she would help me with my house as I had helped her. After 6 months, I had to realize it was just talk.

Because of other circumstances that are no longer of concern, the friendship ended. In truth, it became toxic, I ended it.

My house had suffered greatly. People I tried to hire to help, for one reason or another, it didn't happen.

My goodness, I cried as much as I tried. It felt so futile. The house looked so bad I sank into a depression. The depression was so deep, the house became worse. I made plans, made some progress then I relapsed over & over. The methods I had used before to get motivated to make progress were not working.

Still trying, still looking for a solution, still fell deeper.

Even the professional, trained counselors can't be trusted. I learned that lesson up close & personal.

Here is where it starts to get better.

As a new recruit in BMTS, the TI (Training Instructor) taught us to make lists. Lists for anything to keep order, accomplish tasks, do inventory, make assessments. 

I did that.

I did that over and over hoping it would kick in. Although it had worked before, like the whiskey, it wasn't working any more.

New strategy.

What if I did a list in reverse?

Accomplish a task, great or small, then write it down as completed.

I have one week off of work, so last night I worked on a few tasks. So far, it has worked!

Five large & 3 small tasks completed in one day. Go, me!

A few setbacks kept me from doing more. PTSD is real!

Setback/Irritation #1

The noise from the next-door neighbor teenage boys loud truck stereo is so irritating. He has a big truck with a stereo that booms so that it makes my windows vibrate from his bitches & hoes tunes. The windows in my home vibrate then my dog goes off so I have to calm him. It wakes me after I have only had 3 hours of sleep.

Mostly, I work all night, so, often I have to sleep during part of the day.

The boy could wait until he's out of the driveway, that would be courteous. Even not boom-blasting it at all would be better.

I did courteously speak with him about it. Not much change. UGH.

Setback/Irritation #2

Someone next door got a shiny new silver car & a shiny new black car. The owners parked in one of my parking spaces which I pay for as part of my rent. If I had kept allowing it, the owners of the cars would think it was okay.

Not only that, the loud truck teen also moved a piece of my furniture from my parking space, to be rained on & baked in the hot Texas sun. Didn't ask me, didn't say anything though he has my cell number.

Such a sense of entitlement to do as he pleases.

Best to kill it in the cradle.

It's not okay, so, I sent a text. 4 hours later, it was still there, so I put a note on the car. An hour or so later, the car was parked in my back yard which is still trespassing. The person took the note off then littered by dropping it on the grass.

I'm going to have some company this summer, didn't want to have to chase the owner of the silver car or the black car to move it every time one of my guests' visits.

After consulting a LE Professional, they let me know that if I needed help, to let them know. So, I texted it to the loud truck teen boy. He said he was "busy". After letting him know that one of Grahams finest would be happy to assist him, it was moved within 20 minutes.

Who raises these people to act so entitled, so lacking in courtesy.

The silver car is parked in my back yard. 

Even the Marines choose which hill to die on. The people may have terrible manners, I dislike it, will live with it.

Setback/Irritation #3

Add to this, the Graham USPS has delivered something I ordered, to the wrong address. To someone, not to my mailbox. This is the 4th time in a 6-month time frame. I tracked them down myself, before. It's so irritating to have to make up for someone doing their job so poorly.

These irksome occurrences divert my energy, slow me down while I'm fighting myself to accomplish what needs to be done.

Anyway, these little annoyances from discourteous people sap my motivation just enough to slow me down a little. PTSD sux.

 

As I decided to wake up early to get more done, here I go. 

Continuation:

March 25: 4 large tasks done plus 1 small one. Go Me!

I have 4 more days to work on the house, get things done.

Trusting My Gut Instinct

If by chance you hear people talking about such things as gut instinct. It's known by a few other terms.

Intuition

ESP

Second sight

Sixth Sense

Excitotoxicity

This aspect of life has only become stronger the more I heed it, the more I follow it. The more I have belief in myself, what I know. At times it's also reassuring to see concrete proof.

A little over a year ago, I was told some very painful, very distressing news. 

It broke me.

Uncontrollable crying in public.

Sobbing alone in my bed.

Wanting to trust the one who told me though it devastated me. Wanted to believe that they wouldn't be so cruel as to tell a lie to me that would hurt me so much.

Then, a more rational side of my psyche took over. From anyone or anything else, I would have verified sooner. 

I wanted to trust.

Wanted to believe.

Wanted to think someone wouldn't lie to me about something so poignant. So relevant to my heart, my life.

Then, something occurred to me.

Although not all records are online or if they are, if the information is private or sensitive, one only has to ask.

The Veteran's Association is known for keeping meticulous records.

Far from perfect, though the records reach quite far back. Some records are from 100 years ago forward. Some records are more extensive. All of the records contain basic information.

Branch of the Military

Date of entry into military service.

Date of birth - DOB

Date of exit from service

Home of record

Current place of residence (if they are still living)

Place & date of death

So much more information is available when the social security is submitted. The thinking is, I surmise, if a person has a

SSAN - Social Security Number, it indicates that the requester has had a certain familiarity with the Military Veteran being searched for.

BINGO

Many people lie about so many things. Lying for different reasons or just out of habit, just for the halibut. It seemed a bit fishy to me.

It's part of my personal integrity to endeavor to be truthful.

Truth is about concrete basic facts

Honesty pertains to emotions

When someone lies to me, I trust then verify. The last time I was told such devastating information it knocked me off my axis. Threw me into a tailspin. Though I did believe the persons words at first, it nagged at me. Something felt like it was off, like I wasn't being told the truth or possibly only a half truth.

It spurred me to dig deeper.

Using a SSAN unlocked the records I was seeking.  When the records appeared. I had the answer I was seeking.

Being lied to is unsettling. Uncovering concrete proof is liberating.

There are no actions I will take after seeing the truth. Just knowing the truth is enough for me. When I saw the concrete truth, it set off a slight quivering in my gut. It gave me simultaneous quivering in my gut while a sense of peace washed over me in waves. This was very recent, so, the sensations are fresh.

The gut quiver has softened; the feeling of peace prevails.

Planning Ahead

As far back in life as I recall, I have been one who plans. As a child, I was taking notes, listening to people around me speaking of what they liked, what they desired. 

What to get for them for Christmas ~ In July!

By 7 years in age, I had known what my mission in life was, for a few years, why I was on the Earth. My personal purpose.

For as long as I was alive it was my mission to do good in the world, to do things that were conducive to the happiness of others. Occasionally, for my own delight.

People can make up their mind to be happy or less than happy. Doing kindnesses for others facilitates being happy. 

Many grains of sand make a beach. 

Many bricks make up a house or building.

Many drops of water make an ocean or a lake.

Many bubbles make a bubble bath.

People must choose to be happy, giving them little reasons can help though it's ultimately up to each person to decide.

In the past 2 decades or so, after the trend of home decor that leaned toward Victorian style. Then, it was Country Victorian. Then, just Country Style. Then, French Cottage/Shabby Chic. Then, some of the styles were merged in different combinations.

After all the different styles, many people felt a sense of being overwhelmed, hemmed in by so much stuff.

Starting out in life, as a girl in late teens - early 20s, my desire was to just be. Since I was living in Hawai'i, I just wanted to be at the beach. Just feel the sun & trade winds on my skin. Just go to Bobby McGees with a group of people who were fun to be around. 

Just go with my boyfriend, Michael, to The Old Spaghetti Factory in Honolulu. Then walk around Waikiki, holding hands, a kiss here & there as we walked around, talking, laughing. People would comment that we were a beautiful couple. Both fair skinned, blonde with light colored eyes. 

Plus, the way we looked so happy, together. There is something to be said for a long-term relationship with someone who makes you feel cherished. At that time in life, 6 months was a long-term relationship.

We didn't have "the talk", it wasn't necessary, we were both exclusively dating each other, it was a mutual understanding for us.

For me as well as Michael, dating was seeing each other exclusively. It did include a bit of making out, no groping of a sexual nature. Nothing of a sexual nature. He wanted to wait for marriage. As did I.

Just being with someone who made me feel safe. From his haircut & confident demeanor it was obvious that he was in the USAF. People were surprised that I was, too & we were the same rank. 

Time moves us all forward. For those who catch the wave of change, they move forward to find their passions in life.

For some people, who remain stuck, they self-stagnate then turn to unhealthy practices. Substance abuse, heavy nicotine addiction, hoarding, overeating, miring for so long that they are unable to climb up out of the abyss. If nothing happens to propel them to change or no person helps them, they will eventually pass on that way. 

Often, the addictions lead to an early death. So sad.

Here is where the climactic truth begins. The chlamydial life pain.

Many stories that are said to be true, of experiences with visitations by spirits. As often as the identity of the spirit is known to the living observer, sometimes it's someone they didn't know. 

Haunting, just the same.

From the many decades, even centuries of conditioning, many people fear the visitation in the form of paranormal events. It's a part of everyday life to me as it has been for my whole life.

Often the entity is attached to certain items, certain places. Sometimes attached to a living person who may or may not be able to help them. The strongest barrier is for the living to actually acknowledge the entity. Most of the living won't.

Contrary to the many paranormal stories, You Tube videos, ghost tours, etc, most encounters are harmless.

A personal belief I hold is that the earlier centuries of people who were tortured or executed or ostracized at the least left behind a residue of fear. In 2026, people might be scorned or laughed at or yes, ostracized. 

The undertone of it is still fear.

Ostracized for even associating with someone who has strong ESP.

Also known as intuition.

One camp says intuition is hogwash, just lucky guesses.

One camp says to trust your gut feeling or trust your intuition.

My camp is full of bowers of flowers, laughter, beautiful music, smiles. It has become more so since I began listening to my intuition, my gut feeling, if you will.

Please dig through the word salad to the meat of this idea.

Mmm, meat, good, mmm, potatoes, good.

There is one current running through encounters of my own as well as those described by others. It's that many entities can't or won't move on because they are still strongly attached to a place, prior possessions or even people. They can't or won't let go of it.

If you have ever had a feng shui attack, a few rounds of decluttering, letting go of that which once served you which no longer does.

You may know the deep relief of letting go.

AKA less is more.

Letting go while being alive is far easier for those who are among the living than it is for those who have passed away from living in a body. Couldn't let go of earthly trappings. 

Passing on without ever letting go.

It seems like an earth life principle though it goes far deeper into a spiritual principle. Letting go of things that no longer serve you, letting go of living people who are unhealthy to be around.

Letting go while still in living form is by far, easier than when a person passes into spiritual form still clinging to people, things, places that they didn't or couldn't let go of in life.

This directly addresses life, also of home decor that is the current trend. The movement of minimalistic living. The movement of minimalism at different levels. Also known as Swedish Death Cleaning, clearing, downsizing. 

Adopting principles of Feng Shui.

Peeps, it's more difficult than that. 

Things are only things, you might think.

Those things hold memories that many people are emotionally attached to. The memories of happy times, people we love, places we have been, the essence of a time when life was so good. A particularly happy event or occasion.

It's really the memories & loved ones that are cherished. The things are tangible representations of that person, place or happy time. Sellers of trinkets at touristy locations thrive on this desire to have something tangible.

Letting go can feel like a betrayal of that which we hold dear.

In truth?

Most of letting go digs deep into the very base of these. 

Letting go is actually a way to honor them.

This is why it frees us emotionally, spiritually.

Yes, it even frees us of the feeling of being hemmed in by clutter.

The tricky part is to be ready to let things go. 

Something that put me on the track to clutter was becoming friends with a woman who I found to be fascinating. She had lived in the same house with all of her stuff for at least 10 years. I was just starting out. Had only been married for 3 years. My baby was almost 1 year old. A lot of my time & resources were devoted to her.

The friend's home had a lot of everything. 

Artful, tasteful clutter. 

She constantly remarked at how stark my home was. How barren it was of style, of anything.

At this point I will say that it was up to me, I voluntarily took her words to heart, I began collecting "stuff". The friendship with the woman soured when I discovered her volatile temper. She put me on full blast three times in private, twice in public. At a crowded restaurant on Hickam AFB, she was so loud, so aggressive. The other people there, were very concerned. Two people asked the manager to do something about the loud, crazed woman ranting & raving without taking a breath. The manager was going to call the cops if she didn't calm down.

If I even said anything it would fuel her verbal attack on me, so, mostly I said nothing. 

With a bully like her, you can't win.

Never knowing what would set her off, walking on eggshells around a tyrant is not a friendship. 

It's a very agonizing feeling. Her tirades threw me into some very deep depression & anxious times. Even my small children were astonished that I just stood silent while the woman went on & on for up to 1/2 hour which felt like longer. She would start out, then, become louder, more vicious the longer she went on.

I had to back off, way off, end the association for my well-being.

Having learned to avoid that sort of abusive person, life is better.

Because I had decluttered my own home, then, helped a couple of very minor clutter cases. In the past when I helped other people to declutter, if they were willing to do it yet not quite ready, they would start accumulating all over again afterward.

The change begins internally then the change can be external. A person must be ready to let go, make internal changes after letting go, revel in the freedom to breathe a bit easier.

WARNING

Change can be unsettling. Even a baby being born must struggle to adjust to its new environment after the struggle of being born. Many people may even cry like a baby as they adjust to their new reality.

I did.

In present day, going through a decluttering is an emotional roller coaster. Sorting through items from different stages in my life. Just as I think it will get easier, an emotional time bomb appears. It's then that I used to stop for that day which sometimes turned into a week or more.

With my pup who is very curious about everything, it adds a slight delay. He needs to sniff everything. Also, he must go out occasionally to make fudge or lemonade.

The difference is that after uncovering the spiritual principles of attachment & detaching, it makes letting go more meaningful.

As much fun as it would be to come back in spirit form to haunt & scare the crap out of some people who might deserve the scare.

I just say - "nah".

Moving on is more precious than any of that could ever be.

There's a plus!

Plus, if I can move forward in life, I can only imagine the richness of moving forward without the trappings of Earthly thingamabobs.

For Love

People run hither dither getting ready for what is touted as the most romantic day of the year. Up front it looks like chocolate candy, roses, hearts, promises that will most likely be ignored by the promiser within hours.

With that said it may seem the meaning of the day is lost on me.

Untrue.

For many years I did celebrate it in a way that was more meaningful to me than what is good sense to most people. Two months ahead of the actual day, I ordered 1 dozen each of red, white, pink, long-stemmed roses. The evening before February 14 was spent tying a length or two of contrasting curling ribbon at the base of each rose. Securing a large vase with water on the front passenger seat of my car, it was a delight to me to hand the roses out to people who it might bring happiness to, to have one. Gender, age, race, relationship status, it was for everyone.

On that day, everyone was my boo.

If you have ever been in a school where the student council, cheerleaders, etc. delivered things to students in their classes on certain occasions, that was what it felt like. Though I was the one delivering them, it gave me the same thrills as though I was the recipient. Seeing the surprise & joy it created for others that was actually a bonus. 

Spreading pixie dust.

This year, deciding to do something differently, shake things up, make it feel fresh, new.

On the night before - Friday the 13th - turning off all electronics before 6 pm. Phone, laptop, iPad, smart TV.

The only electronic device I left on was a stereo with pre-recorded ocean sounds. The ocean waves, gurgles of dolphins, whale song. Sea birds calling out in the distance.

It was magic.

As a gift to my dog, PJ, giving him a deep cleaned crate & new blankey made him happy. He gently took the new blankey from me, unfurled it, jumping then waving it through the air like a flag of victory. Taking his new blankey into his crate, he sniffed around it with his tail wiggling fervently. Yeah, it made him happy.

On February 13, I had prepared my Caeser Salad. A personal recipe that I like. Iceberg lettuce, arugula, goat cheese, kalamata olives, a sprinkle of fresh chopped basil & my home-made creamy Caesar dressing. Just 1/2 tablespoon to accentuate the flavors. Having made 2 loaves of keto cloud bread, just 1 slice was enough.

Of course, I did the usual for PJ. Rising from bed, brushed my teeth, washed my face, changed from night clothes to day clothes. Took my supplements, downed 8 oz of water. Fed PJ his morning meal, we went out the door to the park for him to have fun running & sniffing.

PJ is still energetic after an hour at the park. We arrived home; in repose on my bed to drink in the richness of ocean song.

Closing my eyes to a light flutter, pondering on what the people of the ocean might be saying. Letting the richness of whale song engulf me. With imaginings of being there. Communicating with fascinating creatures in their own languages. As a polyglot 5, languages fascinate me. The pitch, cadence, little pauses in slight breath.

Whipping up feelings, emotions of what they might be feeling. What they might be communicating. The sub-text.

Hey Fred, watch out for the sharks today, they're cranky.

Did you see those big boats! I could drench every person on them.

Hmm, after those bulls got done, I might be expecting a calf.

That cutie I was with was as big as a whale, oh, she is a whale.

The wave of krill looks promising today. Time to breech.

Those female dolphins are cute, too small, still cute.

How deep should I swim today, trying to beat the record.

Maybe I ought to tell the calves to stick close, today. The current is getting strong.

Thanks be to Triton who protects us all, who preserves us all from whale killers.

I'm a whale, I'm so majestic. Orcas are pretty. Dolphins are the comedians of the ocean. Tuna is the chicken of the sea. Charlie.

Closing my eyes, intending it to be just for an instant. I worked until the wee morning hours. A bit of a relaxing nap is good.

Softly drifting into a dream.

I'm a mermaid. Long flowing hair, emerald green eyes that match the shimmer of my powerful fins, wide tail for speed. The current is strong as I swim along, feeling it as it smooths over my body.

Fully enjoying the sensations of my surroundings. 

Escaping the day to day can feel like I pressed a reset button.

It was so enjoyable I might start doing this for every Valentines Day.