Ideas Worth Spreading
Just this morning, after a five hundred calorie burned speed walk on the college treadmill (one of three) I decided to drive straight to the poor-man’s clinic to see about getting my blood drawn. I'd seen an older woman, silver hair in the crosswalk below and thought about how many of us begin as blonde and end as silver, like badges bestowed, golden for innocence and silver for wisdom and the brown and mousy like me in some middle wandering.
I had a standing order as my prescription had run out of refills and my care providers, (I’m not sure if any are real doctors?) have changed three times over the course of a single year and the new one didn’t feel comfortable okaying the 5000 i.u’s of vitamin D capsules I have been taking.
“Could you please see if they will be checking my B level’s as well?” I’d asked the Navaho-looking office assistant.
After punching around on her computer, she said, “No, but I’ll send in a request and a nurse will get back to you after checking your file.”
I took the slow elevator back down.
On my way up, in the very slugglish, three-story-only pulley there were two fat, younger women, one with Koolaided bleach hair, now raspberry and greasy in the same kind of grease-printed black and cheetah way her Jenkins stretched across her hips. Her sister, or look-alike-friend was carrying her newborn and it seemed he was smiling in his sleep, little lips like an old man, his hair barely there, a comb-over black. She was ahead of me in line and told the Navaho woman that she was here to get his shots done with a hugely proud air at doing what is deemed right, and I cringed, it was all I could do to not grab her arm and ask her to please not do it, at least wait until he is six and school-aged, his brain blood barrier fully formed. I thought too of his little penis no doubt already foreskin free and the snipping’s and stabbings of these little babes. And, of how effectively so many are socialized and why is it I always question? I could never be a doctor or nurse, recommending and carrying out these kinds of mainstream compliance I cannot stomach, for what if, what if there is a direct correlation between these leaded needles in all of the preserving power that make the feeble minded, angry, these only one X chromosome males to defect boys who I end up working with in the Special Education rooms, bed and class and governmental guided? And, just who am I in this same room begging for a stick and poke, for something, anything to make my bones less brittle?
Photo Credit: Unsplash: Alex Hockett
We feel a bit powerless in this situation and question the norm. As we age and learn the world doesn't seem to question as much as we believe it should and sheep slowly file through the gates whether to be shorn or be slaughtered. !tip
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A scary prospect, but all too true in my estimation.
Thank you for reading :)
At 11.11 my time this morning: I heard you coming!! And here you are.
Thank God for that!
An auspicious time! You make me smile :)
As if no time has passed.
It is very interesting to discover what brought you here today of all days....it's all been piling up and everything is the same....Quite a weft.
Any fresh paint on your walls?
Yes, as a matter of fact, Oslo blue! My daughter moved to Portland and the yellow had grown brownish around the corners. And, a very startling coincidence you might especially appreciate is I just hung an art poster of Jimi Hendrix on one of those very walls!
I type in to the all-knower Google Oslo Blue, and get this plastered over my screen in 100-fold:
Don't they so know you!
You are painting humble walls but would it that you were revving it up in one of these?!
Ha! Yes, that's the ticket, I need one of these so I can speed aimlessly into the desert and forget about empty family homes which seem to require constant care!
I keep to painting because I'm in some way afraid of the documentation, some leftover of proving I'm working/producing in an easier way for other's to see....I don't know, parts of me are crying out b.s. as I write this. I do know that I very much admire your documentation :)
I still don't know what to do with the home? Or where to go? My youngest has two years of school left and though he's here only part of the time, I tell myself I can remain steady and solid in the family abode.
PS--I'm very good at keeping my coloring in the lines~
I recognise that fear of documentation.
But I don't think it IS documentation. It's the form is appears to take.
What the "work" really consits of is ... almost impossible to put into words. It is sometimes within reach or "vision"but it would be pointless to describe this energy work, this very neat/tidy painting indeed! It follows the line a super close listening draws out. It spans an enormous amount of time (within a life-time, but it is starting to feel that it stretches beyond - was theory, is becoming eerily experiential).
I know you've seen the same and also know it but have the question: now what? In the meantime "normal" life goes on (in a spiral that is disconcertingly downwards, we can well observe, but we are also not in it). It makes for fear and weariness, but resilient as we are, we must carry on. Or must we? We can, that much we have proven. Now to apply free will appropriately. Something has to start to move soon. Why that brings me here, I have no idea, and that part I AM documenting for myself in meticulous detail so as not to miss a single clue. It is quiet enough here now, I hope to deepen the focus without deepening my involvement with the delusion that it all actually is.
I think, if I hazzard a guess, I have come here for very much needed support. That they who can also know it. Even if they do not know what they are doing. How does one leave a trail that points in the right direction (the necessary direction) for each to discover in their own time? The internet was not created for this, but we'll be damned if we don't turn our own hand to it for the light to profit when and where it can.
I have cut a deal though. I'm not running in the dark. If my lamp fails, my back-up torch is empty then that's it. I can do no more. No more fumbling in the dark. The days of saints and martyrs are done.
I read your words when you first offered them and have held them close over the past few days. You've captured what I find so difficult to articulate and in so doing, your recognition gives me recognition and confirms this work, we are both in I AM.
And, your guess of coming for support is quite right I'd say because presently I sense glints of this knowing (w/o blinding and blocking self-importance we see in so many) from you. Mirroring the sun from across the globe :) I do feel so excited and supported in knowing you are investigating and coming along some of the same lines, and thank you so much for that!
Nothing much anymore is coincidental in my greying house.
In order to try and keep up with documenting that, I have had to cancel sleep and who needs food, when you've got air?
It leaves me very little time to figure out how to paint my walls.
But anyway, what comes first, the excuse not to paint them (because who wants to stay in a family home without family?) or the inevitable disrepair of that which you no longer need?
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Thank you much for your recognition!
So many questions - and what is supposed to help or protect us has so often done the opposite.
No answers, only too many questions.
Right?! So scary to think that baby might be perfectly healthy and then in some freakish way wrecked by the protective poisons.
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It has been during my lifetime that many ordinary people have seriously begun to question many medical decisions and 'truths.' I think the internet has made it easier for us to do our own research and reach our own conclusions. Forty years ago, there wasn't nearly as much information readily available. If I could do it over, I would make different decisions for my children and myself than I did back then. But I did the best I could with the information I had at the time.
Yes, me too. I began as a very young mother and even though I questioned, I was practically forced by my husband and in-law's in some of those decisions. I did have them all at home :)
Good for you! That wasn't a "thing" when my kids were born. Everybody went to the hospital.
It is sickening about what doctors, nurses and big pharma does to people, knowing full well what the outcome could be. Have they no conscious? So sad.
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Thanks for prompt! It's difficult to understand how/why people make certain decisions? I often wonder what their thoughts are on a next life/karma/what have you, aren't they worried there will be a penalty? Or, the penalties here weigh more in their minds?