That Time of Year

I'm doing taxes today.

I'm not feeling particularly creative or wordy.  Numbers are running around my head in loops, screaming their importance to an uncaring world.  Z. keeps wanting to sniff and disrupt my piles of receipts, taking keen interest in the milage record book.

Now that she spent 40 minutes running at the dog park she'll be less intrusive.  It's hard to eat paper when you're sleeping in the sunny patch on the floor.

Taking a break was good for me too.  A mild refreshment for my brain so it doesn't get overloaded and shut down.

But now the break is over and it's time to get back to the screaming, racing numbers.

Fear vs. Hope

I realized the day after I wrote about aliens that it was a post generated by and promoting fear.  At least that's how I feel about it, and that's not really what I intended to do.


Do the alien dreams I have genuinely worry at me?  Yes.  Do videos like the one I posted freak me out?  Yes.  Do I think there is a rational reason to be afraid, and that the phone call in that video is genuine?  At the risk of sounding like a lunatic, yes.


After all that, do I think our future is bleak and hopeless?  No.  A thousand times no.


I'm not always entirely sure where the hope lies.  Sometimes I get overwhelmed by how big and out of my hands it all seems, how little there appears to be that I can do.  This is true of life in general, and at times I've allowed myself to sit and stagnate.


That, I've learned, doesn't help.


I'm not always sure what action I can take to make myself feel better, and the idea of being in control of something I know precious little about other than how deeply troubled I feel about it is ludicrous, really.  I think the best I can do is try my hardest to make day to day decisions about life that I can live with, and be prepared to put up a fight against Darkness and Evil wherever I see them.  Hopefully then, if the shit hits the fan in a way that I've dreamt about, I'll be ready to do something about it instead of being frozen in fear.


And if it never happens, well, then I'll have lived a life that I hope I can look back on and say, yes, I did the best I could with what I had, and I strove to improve on that every day, and promote Light instead of Darkness, and Hope instead of Fear.

I'm Not Dead

Hi! I'm not dead.

Just in case you were wondering.

I've just been busy, and then forgot that I had a blog until I read the super-awesomeness that is www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com which you should all go read. And read the archives too.

I do feel like I'm putting some of the pieces of my life back together, which is good. In case I forgot to mention here, I felt like I'd lost direction and purpose and had no idea what I was supposed to do with myself.

I've finally stopped fighting the fact that I want to be a writer, and that's about all I want to do. Ever.

So I'm figuring out what to do with that, other than writing obviously, and we'll see where I go next.

But I won't wait so long in between posts next time.

The Darkness

I've been watching a lot of Dexter recently. He talks about the Darkness he has living inside him, that darkness he has to feed else it take over his life.

I can't relate. Not entirely.

Lately I've been struggling. Isn't that how all my posts go? Struggle should be a tag for my posts. Oh wait, it already is.

Last summer I was depressed. It felt like the world was one big dark hole and I was being sucked into it against my will and there was nothing I could do to stop the world around me from falling apart.

If we hadn't gotten Z. I don't know what would have happened. Z. made me get up in the morning. I had to do things because she needed me to.

I feel that dark vacuum sneaking up on me again and I'm panicking a bit. I think I'm aware enough to stop it - to reach out and socialize and keep myself from falling apart - but what if I'm deluding myself? What if there's nothing I can do to keep it from grabbing me again?

I can't stomach another summer like that.

S. and I can't survive another summer like that.

So I'm writing about it. It seems like a slightly futile effort but it's all I have right now.

I'm currently fighting the pull of the black hole, and today I'm winning.

Yesterday I lost. But today I'm winning.

Perhaps that all I can do, go one day at a time and hope that I win more often than I lose.

Life

Not much to say.

I've been in a strange head space since Wednesday. Not a bad one. Just a different one, and unexpected.

Z. is growling at a pit bull outside. The fur along her spine is all standing on end. It looks hilarious but I probably shouldn't be encouraging this.

We had hail today. My flowers survived. Huzzah for the balcony.

They cut down the trees in the neighbours' back yard. I am unhappy about this. The trunks lie bucked up in the alley, useless to everyone unless they let them dry out to be used for firewood. Another neighbour has a wood burning stove. Perhaps the loss won't be a complete one.

And other than that I have not much to say.

Magnetic Attraction

When I was a little kid I discovered the concept of divining answers from a magnet on a string. I can't remember where I heard about it first; some book about divining for water and minerals, I think. I can't remember how I learned about it. I do remember that I immediately went out, made a magnet-string tool, and discovered that it worked. In my test run it told me one of our lambs was a girl. I already knew that but that's why it was a test. I thought it was wrong when it said bunny Patty was a boy and bunny Clover was a girl, but later that turned out to be true as well. (Patty became Patrick. It was a simple transition.)

I told my brothers about it. We were all able to do it, me and my youngest brother with a little more skill than my middle sibling. My youngest brother could make the magnet swing in different directions by thinking at it, even when someone else was holding the string.

My mom was squibby about the whole thing. "You don't know what you're opening yourself up to," she said. "Satan appears as an angel of light, you know."

I was puzzled at first. The whole concept of not recognizing darkness in disguise didn't make sense to me then. It makes a little more sense to me now but I still think that God gives us a pretty good feel for when we're being deceived and when we aren't. If we can't trust that instinct then we can't trust any of it, I think, since that's all we really have to go on.

That and evidence of behaviour I guess.

It does suck that we're so good at deceiving ourselves, but that's where self-awareness comes into things.

Dad seemed to think that divining gender was a simple electro-magnetic thing. Scientific. He had little to say about asking questions and getting yes/no answers. Probably because I didn't ask him about it.

I haven't used the magnet on a string for a long time. For a while when I lived in Rosebud I lost my ability to use it. Along with my ability to make clouds dissipate. I ran into a skeptic who had more power over me than I realized; more power over me still I think than I would like but now I'm aware of that and I keep my walls politely up to protect myself. Before I realized that though, my faith was tested and my connection to the other side was a struggle and nothing that couldn't be explained rationally worked for me. I lost the magnet. It slipped from my mind altogether.

A few weeks ago I am cleaning the office and I find my magnet from all those years ago. Still on the green braided yarn string I made to keep it safe. It falls out of a box into my hand like it had never left. I try to see what it would say about Z. but she keeps trying to bite it, so I put it on the dresser and forget about it again.

Until this morning. It is stuck to my glasses case so I pick it up and began to play around with it like I used to. What gender of baby will my friends have next? A boy. Will I be an RVP within the next 5 years? Yes. Will I be an Area Manager in a year from now? No. By next GTC? Yes. Will S. and I get married? No, but when I ask if we'll be together for the rest of our lives it swings yes. Will I live past 60? Yes. Will Scott? No. Hmm. Will we have children? This confuses the magnet. First it says yes; on further questioning it says one boy and one girl; then two boys; then one boy; then no children at all. We will, however, have a theatre company together. That it seems pretty sure about.

A friend of ours read S.'s palm and said he'll live to be an old man and he'll have three daughters, with me. Who is right? I guess only time will tell.

I notice that sometimes when it swings yes it swings clockwise, and sometimes counter-clockwise. So I ask if those directions meant different things. Clockwise it swings. Does clockwise mean yes for certain? Clockwise. Does counter-clockwise mean a likely yes but not a certain one? It stays counter-clockwise. I test it by asking something I knew the answer to - clockwise it swings. Again I ask if I'll be an Area Manager by the next GTC. Counter-clockwise - likely but not certain.

Huh.

Spoiler alert - if you haven't read The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, and The Amber Spyglass, skip this next paragraph.

I recently re-read His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman. In that series the main character, Lyra, uses a form of divination to determine the truth of things past, present and future. She learns that a substance called Dust is on the 'other side' as it were, answering the questions. The Dust also answers questions through the I Ching. Presumably it uses all forms of divination, but those were the only two mentioned in the books. The Dust is later revealed to be fallen angels. If I hadn't read the series it probably never would have occurred to me to ask who was answering my questions. It certainly had never occurred to me before.

Are you what Lyra refers to as Dust?

Definite yes.

Am I dealing with a spirit?

Certain yes.

Is that spirit neutral?

No.

Is that spirit good?

No.

Is that spirit evil?

Certain yes.

Hmm. Interesting.

Was my mother right about this?

Yes, she definitely was.

Was my father right about this?

Nope.

I continue to ask questions. Are you accurate? Mostly. Is your aim to harm me? No. Is your aim to hurt me? Yes. Can you hurt me? Yes. Can you harm me? No.

The distinction is important - hurt is temporary. You can recover from hurt. Hurt is a burn. Harm though. Harm is a bigger deal. Harm is something that takes a lot of time and potential therapy to recover from. Abuse is harm. And hurt. Anyway. The magnet clearly understands the difference.

Should I as a Christian stop messing around with this?

Definite yes.

I put the magnet back on the dresser and go upstairs.

I wonder how honest the spirit on the other side is but I'm not sure if I'll go ask.

I might just use that magnet to find stray needles from now on.

Patron Saint for a Year

This is a break away from Reverb10.

I got this from the blog of a woman I greatly respect and admire.

Her patron saint for the year is St. Florian. I'd never heard of him before.

Mine is St. Patrick. Yes, the St. Patrick, patron saint of engineers, Ireland and Nigeria. Against the fear of snakes and snake related incidents. And apparently also the patron saint of excluded people according to the brief blurb I read when I got him here.

I read that to include those who are isolated or alienated.

Interesting, no?

I thought so.

I'll be back with the rest of the Reverb10 posts but I wanted to share this first.

Now, when you are least suspecting it -

I know you probably thought I'd forgotten, or given up on, Reverb10.

Surprise! I was writing them, but forgetting to post them.

There is a subtle difference.

So here's the next one. It's practically a bullet point list, but I did write it early in the morning - or maybe late at night - I don't know. Don't judge me.

What do you want to try next year? Is there something you wanted to try in 2010? What happened when you did / didn’t go for it?

I want to try to make a sundress. I also want to try to build a business so I can work from home. I also want to try to finish a novel I started a year ago; and try to get another novel sent to a publisher.

All of the above are things I wanted to try in 2010. What happened when I tried all those things this year - the sundress got put on hold when I had no iron and I had a bent needle on my sewing machine; building a business proved harder than anticipated and I gave up and restarted and gave up and restarted and then felt like God was telling me to slow down and wait for my time - not yet, not yet; I got too involved in the novel and then sank into depression and had to leave it alone; and I lost my other novel in my office which was/is a disaster area and only recently found it again.

What happened to me with all of this is that I felt worthless and like I couldn’t finish anything.

I know that isn’t true though. So I’m going to try again and this time I’m going to succeed.

Lessons

The best thing I learned about myself this year is that I have endless reserves of anger and rage. This may not sound like a good thing to learn about oneself but I find a strange pleasure in that, alongside the disturbing nature of the discovery. It means that when I need to be angry, when I need to rage to stay alive or to protect that which I value, or when I need that anger to be there to fight for what I believe in, it will be.

I also learned that I can let go of things like resentment. And that I can be patient and loving even when I don't feel like it. I am capable of a lot more than I realized.

I will carry this on with me. Knowledge is power; and self-knowledge even more so. Now that I know that I can let go of resentment, for instance, it's a lot harder for me to hang onto it in the first place. I see the endless pools of rage and anger resentment brings (and even if I think I can utilize that anger, I don't want to live there), and I'm not willing to have that be my default setting.

5 Minutes to Amnesia

You have 5 Minutes before you will completely lose your memory of 2010. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2010.

Here I go.

S. Him this year. His generosity. His love. Just him, in his life, crotchety and funny and sweet and sour.

Z. The dog. Her puppyhood when she was sweet and her current state where she's not. Such a biter. So much work to be done. Sigh.

Saskatoon. Hearing Keith Kochner speak. Having those ideas sink into my soul and remind me of what is important and what is not.

Learning about the way the world is working, the tyranny and oppression and removal of freedoms that is happening every day and nobody gives a shit. Alex Jones has a lot of information about this. It's scary but it's important to know. Even if you don't believe it, it's important to know. The Canadian government just passed a bill so that American troops can come to Canada to maintain order during an emergency. I think Canada gets to define emergency - but maybe not. And either way, we've just signed away some of our sovereignty. Great work, government...and great work, Canadian public, letting that one slide through without a whisper of protest.

The love I've experienced this year. I would want to remember that too. The revelations I've had in churches and at home.

And my five minutes are up.

That went faster than I expected. But I think I remembered the important things.

Action

To quote Reverb10 - When it comes to aspirations, it’s not about ideas. It’s about making ideas happen. What’s your next step?

Well shit.

This is probably what my Arbonne sponsor would like to know too.

Although I'm realizing what my dreams actually are, and defining what I really want, and it changes as I get older and more informed about the world, and more aware of what matters to me.

To answer this I really need to know what my aspirations are. The only repeating aspiration I have is to be a published author. I don't do much to promote this goal of mine. Although writing these every day is a baby step towards that - it keeps me writing every day - and that's something. I am slowly going through the full length novel I wrote two years ago, getting it ready to submit to a publishing house, and that's something too. It's just a lot of baby steps. Little pieces of action, far apart. I'm not sure why I'm not a big action quickly sort of girl. I never have been. But I don't think that's because I couldn't do it. Just for some reason I don't.

And with Arbonne...it's a strange feeling. I wanted to promote in November, to the next level, to share my dreams with some business builders and get the ball rolling. I was half-way there - and then doors began to shut. Gently. But shutting nonetheless. And I got the distinct, strange feeling that November was not my time. That it would be, at some point, my time to make Arbonne my focus. But not right now. I went to an Arbonne meeting and again, got the sense that while I needed to keep my toes in the water, it was not the time to 'hurry hard' at this.

I'm not sure why.

I felt strongly that I needed to start my business at the level I did. I don't regret doing it. I'm glad I started on this venture, and I still have dreams and goals. I just can't get it going right now and for some reason I feel like that's a deliberate thing.

It's strange but I'm going with it. If I can't follow my TUG (the ultimate guide, built into each one of us) then I can't follow anything.

Those are the two main areas I have aspirations in that I feel I need to take action on. One, I feel I need to take more action. The other, I feel I'm doing what I'm supposed to even if it doesn't seem like enough.

What are my next steps? With writing, it's to finish these prompts and get my book ready to send away. I guess I should set a deadline. I will have my manuscript (or a selection of it) in the mail to the publishing house by my next birthday (which is coming up pretty fast here). With Arbonne, it's to keep dipping my toes in, keep pushing here and there to see if there's a spot to find forward momentum, and wait for my gut (hmm, reverse tug and what do you get?) to tell me that it's time to move further, faster, now.

Integration

I have been increasingly blessed to find that I don't think about my body and mind being separated much anymore.

It still happens.

A few nights ago I had a little fit - I don't know what to call them. I used to get them all the time. Time speeds up and slows down simultaneously. My mouth gets a strange taste in it. My head feels larger and heavier than it should. Things are incredibly loud. I feel like I'm moving very quickly and yet everyone else is so, so slow.

I had a doctor tell me it might be temporal epilepsy. In which case I had a seizure.

That is a mind-body split. It was very strange since I hadn't had one for so long.

I didn't like it one bit.

I used to live my life as though my mind was connected and my body was absent. Lately I've had more moments where I felt my body was more connected than my mind. As if my body was trying to tell me something and my mind was completely oblivious. Or in denial. Or deliberately shutting out information I needed.

Migraines stemming from shutting down when I needed to speak up. Muscles tightening when I refused to acknowledge my stress. Heart beating hard and fast and chest tight when anxiety overwhelmed reason and faith vanished in the face of fear. Breathing being lost in the stress of the summer.

And my brain didn't feel that involved this summer. It was shrouded. Blocked. Fuzzy. Forgetful. Not present. So perhaps that's why my body had to step up, to keep me going, to keep me alive and functioning on some basic level that I had forgotten existed.

More and more my body and mind and heart and soul feel like one cohesive unit.

If that was a consequence of the summer, then I am grateful again that this summer happened.

Wisdom

What was the wisest choice I made this year, and how did it play out?

Good grief, Reverb10. You don't pull any punches, do you?

To answer glibly, and off the top of my head, I have no idea. I won't know until I have the wisdom of hindsight, time passed to show me the long term consequences of the choices I have made this year. It's near impossible to tell which of the choices I made this year was the wisest; and the context often determines what was wise at what time, anyway.

But if asked to actually choose one - going to listen to Keith Kochner speak in Saskatoon. Not only listening to him speak, but taking in what he had to say, and growing, and bringing change into my life because of it. If anyone reading this ever gets a chance to go to an Exchange Event, I would recommend it. There is so much to take in. So much change to put into effect. So much to ponder and let go of and rewrite. So many areas of my life that it applies to. I went because of Arbonne; it's shown me that my true passion in life is to tell stories, and the desire of my heart is to tell stories that change people's lives (hopefully for the better). And to live in Balance. I have yet to figure out how Arbonne, and theatre, and every other choice I've ever made, fits into that.

But I'm no longer freaked out about that process, and I no longer think I need to have all the answers yesterday. This is a journey and I am growing peaceful with that reality. Most days.

I think that's all the wisdom I can put into action in my life right now.

Rocking My Socks Off

When I graduated from Rosebud a lovely woman took all the graduating women to a spa for mani-pedis and massages. The woman who did my pedicure said I had the softest feet she'd ever worked on. She asked if I ever went barefoot.

I told her I wore socks and shoes almost all the time, or socks and slippers. She said that explained it, at least in part.

All that to say, I don't rock my socks off.

I didn't do a lot of parties this year. I'm not sure I did any, actually.

I didn't do a lot of social gatherings either.

The best social gatherings I went to were with people S. worked with. They came over for his birthday. We went to one of their places for another birthday party, and for an end of season party. Outside, or at a local pub, surrounded by people who were full of life and energy when I was not, was a way to fill myself with some of that energy. Music, or the sound of people and doves in the backyard of the house next door; a fire pit, food cooked over the flames or brought by cheery waitresses. Comfy clothes, decent. Pizza on blue couches in a third story apartment that felt way, way higher. Chatter. Talk. Theatre and life mixing. Games. Drinking, alcohol and pop and water with ice crunched between the teeth.

The feeling of acceptance.

Those were moments of connecting to community too. Those were moments that I will remember from 2010.

Beautiful Souls

Another prompt from Reverb10 - Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different & you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.

I'm a few days behind. I'll catch up on the weekend. Writing is tough...yeah, yeah, I know. I love it. But it's tough to take time for it when I'm gone all day and I want to come home and spend time with S. and the dog and not my computer.

When I thought about this one I didn't know what to write. I don't know what I do that makes people light up. It seems to be a bit random. Little moments of true un-self-awareness, those moments when a person is just truly themselves, no censorship - you know the ones? Where you see someone and get an instant crush on them, as one of my acting teachers once put it. Not a sexual thing - just a moment of seeing their soul. It's beautiful.

And I'm not sure what makes me different. Or rather, I'm not sure I can articulate what makes me different. It's my soul. That can't be articulated.

Community

Where have I found community (online or otherwise) in 2010? Where would I like to join, create or connect to more deeply in 2011?

On a side note, I'm enjoying Reverb10. Even if I feel rushed doing it.

I have noticed this year that I started with a feeling of community. Within and outside of the theatre. I had gigs, friends I was working with, confidence and joy. And then that went away and I felt a vacuum of community in my life that led me into depression, or at least damn close to it.

So I've felt a loss of community that was, in retrospect, kind of self inflicted.

I briefly felt a sense of community at a church I went to three times, before it began to push all sorts of buttons for me.

I've felt connected to my neighbours for the first time in two years. Not strongly, like I was used to in Rosebud, but still connected. It's something...but not a community.

I've felt connected to people S. worked with. A bit of community, like a family I was married into. The people I've worked with, in some cases more than others, like a little bit of that too. But not enough to sustain me. And that's not what work is for, after all. Not outside the financial, anyway.

So, to answer the question. I've found community in dribs and drabs, where I could, because I realized I desperately needed it. Mostly offline, much to my surprise now. Although I spent a lot of time on Facebook. Which I guess says something about social media vs. human connection.

I would like to be more connected to my 'old' friends in 2011. I would like to find community in a spiritual sense this coming year, whether in church or in an informal setting. I'd like to plug into the theatre community, in some way, and into the Arbonne one as well.

But mostly with my friends who've been there through thick and thin. And some new ones I'm making now. Relationships are important to me and I want to keep that a priority.

Making

What was the last thing I made? Is there something I want to make but need to clear time for?

The last thing I made, or felt creative about, was a present I wrapped. I didn't make the present - that I bought - but the wrapping process made me feel like a creator which was nice. It's pretty, sitting on my table until I see my friend tomorrow. It's orange. She reminds me of the colour orange. I hope she likes it.

The last thing I actually made, though, was a sock-shoe for the dog. It was not my idea. S. took an old holey sock, cut it apart and measured (roughly) a sock for Z. And then asked me to sew it. So I took orange thread (a colour theme perhaps) and sewed up the sides of the bag for her foot. She didn't much appreciate it but at least her foot can bend where it's supposed to. We'll see if we make any other sock-bag-shoes for her.

And I want to make a summer dress. The pattern is cut out. The material downstairs. It needs to be ironed. Today I noted to myself that I feel like I have no time to do anything. I'm not sure that's true but I know January will be upon me before I've prepared for it and I don't like that. The feeling of panic, being rushed. I need to sort out my time usage. And figure out how to utilize that fricken commute in the evening that goes for 45 minutes when it should be 20. Stupid traffic.

Letting Go

Again, Reverb10.

What, or whom, did I let go of this year?

In a word. Resentment. I held onto some anger I didn't need. And I let go of that this year.

It was a wonderful, good feeling.

Of all the things to let go of, that was the best one.

Wonder

This is from Reverb10.

I ponder the question, how did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? And I think, off the top of my head, that I didn't.

This year was a year of ups and downs for me. Incredible ups. Intense downs.

I started the year with such joy and hope and excitement. I was going to be involved with four theatrical productions, possibly more. I was going to have two shows produced that I had written. I was unemployed but with a sense that things would be okay, I would be provided for and my soul would be fed and I would be okay. My faith was strong. My joy complete.

The first project of the year. Working with friends. Writing a show out of the blue - so three written works produced! - and having a blast, and making money doing what I love. The wonder of that experience just happened. I didn't go out of my way to cultivate it. I just experienced it and revelled in the love of it.

Working with children in a homeless shelter. I wondered, in a different way, at their lives. The fact they would use the microwave on the toy kitchen and not the stove or oven. They would use a toy phone but not talk to each other. Again I didn't cultivate a sense of wonder, and it wasn't a sense of wonder in the way I suspect is meant by the question I am pondering.

Then we started rehearsals for the second theatrical project of the year. A play I wrote. A character I loved. A process that was just fun, just playing with friends. A wonder I felt at the joy and the fun and the play. This wasn't work. It was sheer enjoyment of being alive. It was wonderous. And then the show was cancelled - postponed - cancelled. Three days into rehearsal. Anger warred with disappointment warred with resentment and more anger. Fury. Rage.

The other two shows I was supposed to be a part of were cancelled too. Both my plays now unproduced sitting in drawers where I couldn't see them.

More anger. More rage. Much more resentment.

Depression.

Unemployment again but this time without the sense that I would be provided for. Without a sense of purpose. I felt lost and drifting. Inexplicable anger, misdirected at those I love instead of those people, and forces, I was angry with. No wonder, unless you count wondering why I was so angry and upset and sad and dark. And then it was just numb and apathetic.

We got a puppy, at first a minor distraction and then a reason to get up in the morning because she needed me to. It probably saved me. Even if it also showed me the darkest pools of rage, brought a great fear into myself because how could I be so angry with a little baby, innocent of ill intent, to the edge of hurting her but at least I could stop myself from crossing that line. And I was feeling something again. Even if it wasn't wonder or joy.

A patch of light. Visiting home for a few weeks. Nothing to do but no pressure to do anything. I couldn't find work here, I was a visitor. And then a spot of interest, a chance to take matters into my own hands, Arbonne was a chance to make money and have some aspect of life come back, and so I took it and floundered.

I realized there was no balance. Either all focus was on writing, or acting, or Arbonne, or socializing, or finding work, or playing games. When doing one the others vanished. I realized this was what I actually wanted - balance - all aspects of a whole life showing themselves at once. More than riches or fame or success. Balance would be nice.

I put myself out there. I get work. I wonder at how the pieces are suddenly falling into place for me. What happened? What was I lacking all summer, why is there light now where there was darkness, why hope where there was despair, why joy where there was an endless hole of anger? And the anger is still there, simmering. But it's not at the top anymore. It's progress. Or at least pleasant. I have time with friends. Work with money. Arbonne appointments. Family visits. Love. Auditions. A writing class. A welcoming congregation. Life is full of wonder and joy again.

Life throws some curve balls. I lose my job. Arbonne falls to the background, people say no, they don't want to hear what I'm doing. We can't go home for Christmas. The dog is being a little shit. The church is full of lies. The audition is a bust, writer's block surfaces.

And I hear a man speak about resentment circling down to resistance circling down to revenge. About the foundational stories that provide cracks and leaks and lies in the houses that are our lives. About how to identify those stories and change them and begin to heal. To let go of resentment. To let go of the lies and find our way to Balance. True abundance in every aspect of our lives.

And I let go of resentments I've held since the spring. Since the shows vanished along with my joy. I begin the life-long process of replacing lies with Truth, of reprogramming the voices in my head, of finding Balance with a capital B.

People still say no to Arbonne but for some reason I feel that it's a gentle Not Now from Him. I don't know why but I am okay. Moments of despair instead of weeks of darkness. A chance to speak blessings into the lives of hundreds of people every day, people who may not know what I'm doing but for whom I hope it makes a difference anyway. A Joe Job transformed into a chance for Light to triumph. A dog who is still being a shit but instead of unfathomable anger I find patience and an acknowledgement that she is there to teach me as much as I am there to guide her on the path to Good Dog. Writer's block dissipates. Auditions still a bust but that's okay too. It's about more than that, a bigger picture, a life of joy and abundance instead of panic and lacking.

New friendships grow out of unexpected places. Chances to share a faith that is unconventional at best. To share a joy and a peace and a gratefulness without labels or limitations. Old friendships revitalized once my resistance was thrown away. Joy in the hiccups of an unborn baby.

I am finding my sense of wonder again and for that I am so, so grateful. If that is what the summer was for. For me to appreciate the Light again once I began to find it. Then I am slowly growing grateful for the summer as well.

Blinded by the Light, or perhaps just Blinded

I've started going back to church. My neighbours invited me with them and I decided to go. Something was missing in my life, some hole that I decided needed to be filled with God. And thus - church.

The first Sunday I went, I was amazed by how welcoming everyone was. I hadn't been there for 5 minutes and four people had shaken my hand. Welcomed me there. Expressed pleasure that I existed. The worship music was lead by an enthusiastic and decent group of musicians and singers. The sermon, delivered by a young man in his third year of seminary, was also enthusiastic, if completely unsophisticated. I was surprised by how it landed with me, how my intellect didn't get in the way and write off the young man for losing his place, his train of thought; for his entire sermon of cliches and non-original thought. It landed, and I had an experience, my faith renewed like it has not been for years.

I went back the next Sunday. It was another guest speaker. An old man, a man who preached in the style of my youth, designed to push my buttons with his incessant prattle about how God will make you wealthy if you tithe with an open heart and just have faith. After all, he and his wife had faith that God would provide when they stepped out and bought their fifth property without knowing for sure they could pay for it.

Thanks. That's really relatable. Fifth property, huh? I bit my tongue and held in my cynicism. When I talked to my mother, decompressing, I got the mixed messages of "I can't handle the Prosperity Gospel" and "You shouldn't go to church to get something out of it. Going through the motions has value too."

Full of cynicism and confusion, I slept in the next Sunday.

The pastor's wife called me a few days later to see if I was okay. I was both pleased to be missed and annoyed that I had to call in sick to church. And then she asked me if I could use my acting talents to help the youth put on a Christmas banquet in 6 weeks. "We haven't chosen anything yet," she said. "But the youth pastor is quite a talented actor too! He did all kinds of things in high school. I'll have to chat with you both on Sunday!"

She prayed for me too. Prayed that God would shower me with blessings, money, and find me a good husband one day. She didn't ask if I had a man already and I didn't volunteer that information. She did a lot more talking than listening and I just wanted to get off the phone before my phone bill got higher. I might have tithed when Old Man Prosperity preached but it hadn't returned to my wallet, guided by the Golden Hands of God, just yet.

I hung up with a rueful smile. It was true, what my acting teachers had said. Every time church people find out you're an actor, they try to rope you into putting on amazing productions in no time at all - after all, it can't be hard. Every high school student does drama. It doesn't take time. I bit down on my jaded knee-jerk reaction and planned how to politely decline any responsibility for a Christmas concert/program/banquet thingy while not making them sound like blithering idiots for their ignorance.

I went on Sunday. I tried to leave my judging eyes at home. Tried to have an open heart and mind, a teachable spirit.

"Who here would rather have a million dollars? Who here would rather have True Riches?"

This is what the pastor segued too, in a sermon about faithfulness. I bit down. I am here to be teachable. I am leaving the judging eyes at home.

"Define True Riches!" shouts special dude behind me. He's been singing in harmonies the entire morning, much to my surprise; harmonies that arise from him trying to sing the tune, I think, since they work but they don't sound fully intentional. He's also been yelling the odd supportive phrase throughout the sermon, which he has done every Sunday I've been there. Nevertheless, by this point I am in total agreement with Special Dude. I want the definition of True Riches already, particularly since the pastor has asked the question, with minor variations, 6 TIMES. I mean, get to the fucking point already.

Except when he got to the point I could no longer hold onto the teachable spirit I'd been trying to cultivate.

Because the point, and the definition of True Riches...

Money.

"God wants you to be rich!" "God wants you to make more than $100,000 a year! Why? Because $100,000 a year is a limit, and God wants you to have no limits!" "God's blessings are the goose that laid the golden eggs! People can take away your wealth (the golden eggs) but you'll still have true riches (the goose)!" "I believe this verse is about money!"

Verbatim. Unfortunately. That is all verbatim.

I wrote down some furious notes. I ran out of paper. When the pastor asked if we believed what he was saying, I shook my head emphatically - I don't think he saw. I began to shake with rage, my arms crossed, sitting in the front row, anger rising and rising until I had to either jump up and slap the pastor across his lying face or leave.

I left. My heels clicked all the way across the community centre floor to the back, where the two door guards (I guess they're called ushers) pointed out the washroom. I went in, looked in the mirror - my face was pale, I was shaking, I looked distraught. "I can't go back in there," I whispered to the empty room. "I just can't."

I texted S. - "Fucking prosperity gospel. Coming home. Want a cheeseburger and fries?" I took a few breaths and snuck out while the guards - sorry, ushers - weren't looking. I made it to the car, got inside and locked the doors - I felt like I had to escape. It was so oppressive. And as I drove away I checked my mirrors, expecting the pastor's wife to chase me down and haul me back inside.

I talked to my mom. "I got away though," I said. She laughed but that's how it felt.

I ranted for a long time. To S., to my mom, my dad. On here, now. On Facebook. The lies this man was preaching, masquerading as God's word, cloaked in the verses about a cheerful giver - tithe to Pastor Moneybags, God will reward you with cash, it's working for Pastor Moneybags, isn't it? As he grows fat on the tithes of his impoverished congregation who cannot afford a building of their own and must use a community centre while they wait for God's blessing to arrive, in the form of Mamon.

A word he actually used in the sermon, to describe God's blessings.

Last I checked, the Bible said you could serve either God or Mamon. Not both.

Not both.

And last I checked, Satan made promises of material wealth too.

So if both look like angels of light...

If they both shine brighter than the sun...

If they both give you money when you follow their rules...

What the fuck is the difference?

From an earthly perspective, that is.

I've struggled with money, and with faith, and I've almost made the choice to choose Mamon over God. To hear that if I only had enough faith, and the right kind of faith, I'd be rewarded with money...well, that rubs me the wrong way. That invalidates the faith journeys of every poor person on the planet. Why isn't it working for the Christians of Africa, or China? Surely the Christians who are prosecuted for their faith, who have to make a choice between worshipping God or living their lives in peace, surely they have enough faith to be given large gifts of cash instead of having their fucking lives taken away from them? This message of bullshit invalidates my childhood, where money was rare and God was not. My parents, who experienced poverty and faith hand in hand. It makes a mockery of everything I feel to be true and right, and turns God into a Golden Calf.

I can't handle it. Obviously.

The pastor's wife called me that night to ask if I was okay. "Someone said you left during the sermon," she said. I took a deep breath and told her the truth, politely. "The prosperity gospel pushes a lot of buttons for me," I said. "I had to leave."

"Oh. Oh," she said. She didn't seem to know what else to say. "Well, thank you for being honest," she finally said. "You're welcome," I said. "I'll call you on Wednesday and we can chat," she continued.

S. said I should have told her not to call me or contact me ever again. I guess I was too polite. I think being polite and nice is going to catch up to me one day, when I snap and have a breakdown of some kind on some random person - God help that random person, they're going to wonder what the hell happened to them - but since that is still just a thought and not a near-future eventuality, I didn't tell her to go fuck herself with her golden Bible.

By some accident my phone died today.

Accident? Or divine intervention?

I don't know.

But it's a good thing, either way.

Because today might have been the day that I snapped.

I drove to Saskatoon today. I've had an overly busy last two weeks. I've had 3 days, in the last 22, where I didn't go anywhere...as far as I can remember, anyway...but I think I only took one of those days to just do nothing. So I think I'm pushing myself to a breaking point of some kind. For the last week or so I have been spoiling for a fight - you know those days where you wake up and you just want somebody to do something or say something so you can just light into them and rip them apart, just so you can feel better? I wanted to break someone's nose, or cut them to the soul with my words, or something violent and cruel and completely unnecessary, just to be a bitch and get it over with. I fantasized about going back in time, to the customer who was grouchy because their favoured dog food was out of stock, who told me we were going to lose business if we didn't get our act together instead of reading the GODDAMNED SIGN ABOVE THE DOG FOOD THAT SAID IT WAS A MANUFACTURERS SUPPLY ISSUE and had nothing to do with us - fuck, I wanted to go back in time and take out 26 years of being nice to people on her until she cried. Good thing I haven't got a time machine.

I didn't fight today. I had a few chances to be a bitch but I held back and was nice and lied when people asked me how I was, said fine, smiled, all is well in the inner workings of this maniacally tired girl. I saw a friend and that was a high point in my day - it's possible to just rest in the largeness of her almost-to-term belly and take some real delight in the life that resides in there. And then I kept driving. I cried a bit as I drove. I talked myself through all the reasons I need to go to therapy. I think I've decided that I should get at least one sleep-in day a week, a day where I do nothing and go nowhere and just hang out with my man and my dog and try to restore my sanity in little pieces every day. I decided I shouldn't be in customer service, where the chance to explode on innocent people is just too readily available. If they ask me to be a merchandiser, I think I'll take it - it means dealing with product, not people, and you can swear (quietly) at product if it's frustrating you without getting fired.

Doing the Arbonne thing feels a little confusing to me right now to be honest. Is it chasing Mamon in another form? Or is it okay? Am I the hypocrite, or am I simply searching for a way to use my God given gifts and still have a roof over my head? My sponsor wants me to kick it into high gear. I'm tired and confused and I feel like I'm letting her down. I don't know what I want anymore, and I don't know what I'm doing for me and what I'm doing to be nice.

I have a lot of sorting to do and I thought I was done sorting through things - do you have to continually resort as life goes on? Don't you get to some point where you've done your sorting and you can just live already? If so, that apparently doesn't happen in your 20's. Sigh.

And now I'm in Saskatoon, waiting for my roommate for the weekend to arrive. I'm exhausted and I just want to go to sleep even though it's only 7:30. I usually am at a writer's class right now - and I just realized I forgot to tell them I was going to be absent this week. Insert the expletive of your choice here, I feel like I've used up my quota for this post already.

So I'll finish this post, and close my eyes, and wait for a knock to signal that I need to open the door and let her in...and then I'll crash hard and hopefully tomorrow when I open my eyes I'll be in a place to listen to this speaker I've come all the way here to listen to, and hopefully I'll be rested in spirit and in body when it comes time to turn around and go back home and work for 6 more days before I can sleep in again and take a much needed resting day with the two creatures I co-habitate with.

Assuming the dog - and S. for that matter - hasn't forgotten that I do in fact live there too.