Vancouver, Out There!

In the dismal grey morning of downtown Vancouver, an echo from somewhere in the streets goes right through my body and thwarts the birds from resting. I Look at the swaying from left to right, and the unstable in posture. I hear hideous howls and see arms flailing about.

IS IT A MAN OR IS IT AN ANIMAL????

I check…it’s a man. This man-beast is louder than city traffic can drown out. Even the rain muffles only a few syllables. Like TNT, an explosion of rawness erupts when evil glimpses his own reflection in a window. I close my eyes. It’s deafening: the screams sound like – “get outta here.” He’s shouting at his own reflection.

IT'S A BUM, A STREET PERSON, AN ANNOYANCE! Or so they say...

He's a junkie. I am sitting now in Tim Hortons and notice he’s still out there. Just like my brother, he’s Out There. In the streets among the street people doing nothing but street business. Now, I can’t stop watching him. When he is not looking nervously around his shoulders, he bends over to check out the holes in his pants. He rocks back and forth like waves in a deep ocean. He must be messed up. What made him that way? Does my brother get like that? God I hope not. My brother would be more normal than that, I think. Have you ever seen dogs try to eat peanut butter? It’s a funny sight, but you also feel sorry for them because they never do manage to lick all that sticky goo off their own tongues. I had the uneasy feeling this guy was trying to accomplish something similar. Lick off his very own tongue, or pick off his own skin or worse, wish himself gone.

I’m still staring at him, I blink and then he’s gone. Was it just a quick blink? It may have been one of those blinks you do when you look unknowingly into space for a while (ponder a bit) and then come back to what you were doing before. In any case he had disappeared and the city seemed quiet. I think nobody but me noticed that he left. Its easy to ignore them when they're not there, right? He's gone to disturb himself in privacy. I hear people say they won’t buy a home in the city because it’s too expensive. The truth is – these streets are drug zones. Nobody wants to live around here anymore period. Can you blame them?

What about BORAT?

I don't usually feel compelled to write about movies, but this one is absolutely necessary (given all the hype). Everyone's talking about Borat. Okay, okay, okay. I saw the movie and need to forwarn anyone who has an inch of taste to NOT waste your money.

I certainly didn't like it. Why, you ask? I'd rather not tell you why. If I told you specifically my reasons for hating it, I may entice you to go check it out for yourself. In fact, I don't wish to give anybody, any good reason to make this movie any more of a huge block buster than it already is. Costing only something like 4 million to make, this movie has already pulled in at least 15 times that at the box office.

In the end, I have to say that the popularity of this show is a sad commentary on our society. It's surprising that it has got as many laughs as it did. Let's just say that I still don't understand why having a retarded brother locked up in a cage is funny. Perhaps I am over sensitive. But, a sister as a prostitute? Ergh, come on!

ODE to Chocolate

The tasteful buzz of nature’s sweetness,
Adoring, savoring and worshipping.
Velvety, smooth drug of bliss,
I am devoted and take pleasure in consuming.

An aphrodisiac, a drug, a plant and a flower,
Cacao, the tree of love never ceases to amaze.
Anyone, at any time, for any for any reason,
A savoring of love and peace, in one gaze.

Tasting the suppleness of chocolatey-heaven may empower,
But for me, it seduced and replaced my lover,
For my dear chocolate will always be there, for every season.
Even at the end of summer.

Who am I?

I don’t know why, but yesterday sucked! Do you ever have those days when you think the world is just a lousy excuse for a place to live out our human existence? It’s one of those days when you find yourself hiding under the blankets with your mug of tea still half drunk, wishing that you didn’t have to do it all again the next day. Yup, that was my day yesterday.

First of all, I never stay grumpy like that because I know that negativity breeds even more negativity. I’m not a groaner, but damn sometimes this world is just so hard to live in. What is it about being human that sucks the energy and spirit right out of you? And don’t tell me that it’s because I am not a person of faith, or because I have lost my way. That’s crap. Sometimes, this fast-paced, money focused, overly self-aware world is simply too nasty for our inner and mental health. And it’s not slowing down for anyone!

That brings me to this question…are we human beings living a spiritual life, or are we spiritual beings living a human life?

I’ve often heard the latter, that we are spiritual beings having a human experience. It could be said that within every living organism, there is spirit and there is soul. They have their own energies and they also have individual impulses that are played out according to their environment. As an animal lover, I personally believe that the human essence isn't so different from that of animal’s because it's just the packaging that distinguishes and classifies us a human being. As human beings our wills, desires, deeds and destiny are what make us spiritual but it's the actions and results of our spirit (acted out in society) that make us appear as trying to be human.

In the end I have to totally admit that I’m a moody, spiritual being that is humbled by her sensitivities. I’m also a very, unique human that functions in the way that seems the most natural for me. And, it still frustrates me. But, I will get over it soon.

Communication with GOD

I would like to tell you my story of when I felt like I had communication from God.

This story begins approximately four or five years ago. I had decided to move back home with my mom because my Dad was dying from cancer. I wanted to be with my Dad and support my mom. While at home, I was emotionally confused and psychologically messed up. I couldn’t deal with the reality of it all, of death and sickness, so I turned to drugs to help me. Escapism at it's finest. I did a lot of drugs and I did them all the time. I even showed up high for work. I remained addicted until the evening of my Dad's passing. Following that night, I replaced my drug addiction for depression. As weeks turned into months, I became exceedingly despondent, miserable, and lonely. I floated around absent-mindedly staring at walls all day and had gained 15 pounds as a result. I hated my life. I hated me. My father's death took me for a ride. My friendships didnÂ’t mean a thing to me, and I became angry. Yet deep down I was still thirsty for love. For something strong. Finding love was so important to me that I thought it would make me feel more human. Unwilling to share myself with just anyone, my heart ached and I yearned to feel right again. We've all felt so shitty that we thought it would never get better. I am definitely an optimist by nature, but those were rough days, and I didn't see the light at the end. I remember doing my journalling, meditating and praying for something good.

Then. I met someone that would later help change my life. And completely change my life I should say. I knew he was the one when I saw him, when he saw me, and when we spoke our first words. We fell for each other instantly. For the past 4 and half years, we have been together; talking, learning, laughing, fighting, crying and changing. Whenever I reflect on that day, I know it and I feel it - he was sent to me. The light returned into my eyes. He taught me to love again, to open my heart and to be true. I have become the beautiful soul that was intended for me.

Some people might call this experience a karmic relationship and I agree with that, but I also strongly believe that it is God who led me to this man. Indeed, this wasn’t a direct encounter with God, but IS there ever really any direct communication with him? What counts is that God heard me…and he always does. In a famous poem “Love Dogs” the poet Rumi wrote:

The longing you express is the return message.
The grief you cry out from draws you toward union.
Your pure sadness that wants help is the secret cup.
Listen to the moan of a dog for its master. That whining is the connection.

Being such an enlightening poem, I could identify with it. My depression, my misery and that phase of my life are sanctified by that idea. It assures me now that the longing, the search and the questions that I had are a proof of my communion with God. God shares with me the echo of my "whimpers" as in the poem and in return he/she shows me my connection to spirit. Hallelujah!