Contemplation


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Much has been going on in this head of mine, in this life of mine, though it seems oddly muted. I’ve been focused on securing a position with another company and I may have succeeded. Next Monday I will be going for a second interview.  Always a good thing if they want to see you again.

And I’m at peace with the rest of it.

I’ve not been able to grow in the position I’m currently in.  I realized that for more than two years I’ve been fighting, defending the job that I am doing.  But why?  And what came to mind was that I was never able to actually do the job I was hired to do.  The partners simply wanted to dictate to me how they wanted it done.

And you see, that doesn’t quite cut it with me.  Hire someone to manage but don’t allow them the freedom to do so?  Redundancy is expensive.

Today at the interview I went to, I felt that spark that I’ve not felt in a good long while. The challenge was laid out, however subtly, the seed planted.

He wants someone who will roll up their sleeves and make certain things happen. He found his candidate for the job.  Just let me do it.

And while he spoke of some of the job costing and tracking they would like to get a handle on, visions of spreadsheets danced in my head.

I like working. I really do.  But I need to feel that what I’m contributing is valid and useful.  Over the past few years I’ve found myself in the hamster wheel running as if the fires of hell have been biting at me behind.

Then I realized I was in some strange version of hell.  When the chains bind to the point that new thoughts and ideas of any kind are quickly extinguished, frowned upon. Painful.

The rest of the ‘hurt’ feelings that I am experiencing are simply ego driven.

It is that echo from a lifetime to the person who sought out and lived for praise and acknowledgement, desperately so.

In the last year my enthusiasm has diminished so much.  Then again, every cruel word spoken was like a poisoned barb that stung feeding the resentment, feeding the mistrust.

And all of this while the effects and treatment of cancer raged through me.

Time to surrender the past to where it belongs and move forward to the life the beckons.  And what I see, ah, it is so good!

It is time to embrace it.  Let it fill my every being.

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It is my hope that I can report back to you that I’ve secured a new position before leaving the old.

And all the emotions that have been roiling about.

To those of you at my work place who’ve pushed me each day, if I could tell you how many times I’ve felt discarded, worthless and unimportant in my life…would it matter.  Probably not.  If I could tell you the fear I felt over the last year, would you understand?

There has been a push on to have a host of things done immediately.  There is a panic on their end. I can feel it.

If they hire someone to replace me upon my absence, I assure you this.  I will sue them.

Now understand this is not out of spite. I know I need to be gone from there. Should I get this position on Monday I will be deliriously happy, but you know, where does it end?

Can you continually treat people like pond scum and not expect repercussions?

I’ve been tormenting over this.  The unfairness.  The disregard. The manipulation.  Oh, they want me go to quietly into that good night.  A hearty handshake and a kick in the ass like so many before me.

There is a part of me that just wants to walk away.  There is a part of me, however, that insists should they breach this ‘parting’ and bring another in…

Well, it’s wrongful dismissal then, isn’t is? And I have it in writing. I’m tired of being treated as ‘less than’.  Nobody should be treated in that manner.  Ever.

And that is why I will take legal action should they breach the conditions of my termination.  And it really isn’t an emotional thing, though it feels as such.  It is, in my mind, a human thing.  A respect thing.  An honour thing.

So you build the best building in the world?  If you’re and asshole, all you’ll have to carry the memory of your life are buildings that will one day crumble.

I would prefer to be remembered for what was in my heart, for the smile on my face, for the time I held a stranger close or was spellbound by a sunrise or sunset.

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The genius of erecting a building, well, I’ve never seen anything built in our firm that took my breath away.  They are very good at what they do. I will not deny this.

Understand that this is the artist in me.  The romantic in me that speaks.

Bodiam Castle sits with a moat around it and provides visions from Arthurian Legends. Built in 1385 it still stands today in East Sussex, England.

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I’ve only seen photos, but to me…this is architecture…this is legend.

In 1,000 years will the concrete and glass structures the firm I work for still be standing?  Will any of what we’ve built remain?

Don’t know.

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But these words that I write, well yes, in a 1,000 years they could well still exist now couldn’t they?  But will they be understood?

It’s a tough call.

My point is simple really.  Why, in God’s name, can we not treat each other with respect.  Why, particularly in the work place, can employees not be given the dignity they deserve.

Employers may be surprised at the productivity they induce by treating those they hire with respect and decency.

And beyond this, I just want to expand. I’m not perfect.  In fact, perfection is a myth.  Perfection is an ideal.  Yet it is a marketing tool.

I can guarantee you that I will continue to make mistakes in this life.  Hopefully their severity will be minimal and they will be of the garden variety.

As I drove through the night, many things passing through this head of mine.  Trying to process, trying to validate and lay to rest so many thing.

‘Runaway Train’ filtered over the radio and I found myself tearing up. The past yet again haunting.  (See link to video below)

Will I ever break free of the pain?

Much to be done in the next while.  I won’t take myself to task for feeling what I do.  It only make me that much more human.

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And as dawn breaks I will throw my arms open in surrender  to the beauty of a new day and give thanks to the life source that infuses me, to the air, the earth, the trees, the ground, to the horse that stands beside me always.  And mostly I will dedicate this heart to be loving and forgiving in all our undertakings.

 

 

 

 

 

Trailers……You Lost Me at Please!


It has been absolutely beautiful weather wise here in Vancouver!  Summer has settled in quite nicely and the temperature is rising.

Nights are spent with a sheet covering me at most.  Even then it is often too hot.  I have one fan that is a good size that I lug from room to room.  I think I will head out this weekend and get a smaller one for my bedroom.

Last year I had taken the fan apart and cleaned it. (They can get quite dusty)

I put it together forgetting to screw the butterfly nut onto the propeller.  Propped it up in my room, turned it on and went to sleep.

A thunderous crash about an hour later had me leaping scared as hell from my bed.

You guessed it.  The propellor inside its cage had come off because someone we know (and love) (hey, I’m gonna milk it, okay?) forgot to put the screw on to hold it in place!

 fan 1

I can assure you it took quite some time to fall back into a blissful slumber after that little incident.

I am babbling though.  Gee. Haven’t done that in while, now have I?

So, yes, I need a smaller fan.  Not one that if it fell apart could potentially kill me.  That fan has never graced my bedroom since this occurrence. I have a far too active an imagination.  Visions of propellers flying through the night air slicing and dicing me like a kitchen chopper doesn’t induce one into the realm of relaxing nirvana.

As I drove into the office today I greeted the morning and cranked the radio up and rocked out to a few good tunes.

Lately the radio has been running ads for up coming TV summer series.  One is for ‘Extant’ that features Halle Berry.

The premise of the show is that she is an astronaught and goes out into space….alone…for a year. She is doing a bunch of strange experiments and somehow she manages to get knocked up though she has no memory of this.

(What did they put in her Tang?)

A line from the trailer played on the radio has Halle asking this question. Not too certain who she is talking to either.

“Please, just tell me what you did to me?”  Halle beseeches. 

And I couldn’t help myself and just burst into laughter.  it just had such a strange connotation to it.

Truth be told, I really don’t know if I’ll check it out.  The premise for it sounds ‘odd’?

Thing is I like Spielberg’s body of work, so it may be worth a gander.  There are a few things though that don’t add up right off.  First, I don’t think they would ever send just one person out into space.

Too expensive. 

The craft that she’s on appears to be quite big too.  That’s alot of work for one gal.

It seems to have the premise of the creepy old abanodoned house feel to it  that we see in horror flicks but it’s a few hundred thousand miles away floating about in space.  Hmmm.

(Halle… just don’t go into the ‘basement’ of the ship, ‘kay?)

Then of course she does go into the ‘basement’ and wakes up not knowing what the hell happened and pregnant to boot. 

I wonder why they always make aliens look so creepy in Sci-Fi movies?  Quite often their appearance is lizard-like. I’ve always liked the aliens in Star Trek and Star Wars.  They were what we affectionatley refer to as ‘humanoid’.  They resembled us but had distinctive attributes that dictated what area of the galaxy they were from.  Better not be from the Eastside of intergalactic hood.

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The wise ones and Cap. Kirk’s battle buddy.

As we well know, life forms can take on a multitude of images and they might well not be in a state that we would recognize.  

Still something to be said for our collective imagination.  

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Careful, ET, my friend. An Alien dude from the Eastside is stirring up shit.  Ate the teacher and left the apple.

If I were to put together a sci-fi outer space series, I would want to explore the big picture.  Really get into the meat of other ‘civilizations’.  Whether they are civilized by our definition of this term, well, that would be a shrouded mystery, now wouldn’t it? 

Next Generation was my favorite in the Star Trek series.  They explored a lot of psychological aspects that were really cool.  

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I would want to put together a series that took it even deeper than that.  One thing I would explore is the idea of ownership in space.  

Kind of like how we, as humans, section off not only the land we thrive upon but the deep blue sea that surrounds us as well.  A portion  ‘belongs’ to Canada, to the USA, to Europe, to Africa, to Asia, etc.  The thing is, what one country does to their ‘piece of the ocean’ affects us all.  Just as what happens in another country on the other side of world does have an impact. It always will  Yet we have this NIMBY attitude.  Outta sight, outta mind as long as it doesn’t appear in my neck of the woods…I’m cool. 

We are kind of like an ostrich with our head in the proverbial sand at times.  

I would also want to explore the idea of intelligence.  The concept of it.  This really fascinates me. How we actually measure intelligence and decide who and what are bestowed with this gift of sorts. 

I recently watched a documentary on ‘The Nature of Things’.  The show followed the migration of the Monarch butterfly and how its migration was discovered and mapped.  

Such delicate creatures that undertake an amazing journey!  Why?  Don’t know. And they are equipped with sensors that are just incredible!   Is all that they do based upon instinct alone? 

I would want to explore the crop circles as a language and turn them into 3D images.  (And yes, I do believe they are a language)

And maybe one day I will have the opportunity to develop such a show.  

I wonder sometimes what would result if shows were created theoretically.  If ratings and advertising dollars weren’t an issue. 

What would it be like to create…just because.

What would it be like to live….just because. 

What would it be like to have no borders?

What would it be like to collaborate collectively on a global scale just because we are human.

The good of the people.  The respect and earnest interest in our well being…everywhere.  The desire to share knowledge freely.

We’ve put a price tag on so many things in this life.  Lebron James, for example plays basketball.  Yet the dude is worth multiple millions of dollars. Why?

I played basketball in high school.

Okay, I wasn’t very good and I’m a girl but I had fun! And I’m nice dammit! 

My point being that what if the challenge wasn’t monetary?

What if the challenge wasn’t power and control?

What if the challenge was…just because.   Hmmmm.

In any case, I will toddle off now.  Enjoy your day and as Mr. Spock so fondly states,

“Live long and prosper.”

 

The Hampster Wheel


I haven’t been very chatty lately.  Not like me, is it?   I am a little worried.  Just two more weeks and I’ll be pounding the pavement.  I’ve got my feelers out there, believe me. 

Today I contacted a temp agency.  She called me after receiving my resume and cover letter and we chatted.  I told her that I wanted to be set up in the event that I have not secured a position.  After our call ended she sent me her personal information. 

If I have not secured  another job then I will go in and complete the process with her. 

She felt certain after reviewing my resume that I would be put to work fast enough.  That’s reassuring.   

And I wanted to be focusing on my book launch and finishing the final touches on setting up the publishing company. 

I’m still moving forward with everything, but again, there is a slow down.

So I need to take a deep breath and move on. 

I’ll be back at it soon enough.  Just gotta figure out how to get out of this damn hamster wheel.

That’s what I liken the last few weeks as being.  I’m moving but not going anywhere!  

Fear not. I am a resourceful little gal. 

As Arnie so eloquently put it ‘I’ll be back.” 

Stumbling Into the Future…


woman 2 Imagine this…I am dressed to beyond impeccable (and trust me, should that day happen I will have been raised to the status of either a saint or as the most wanton of women alive or dead as the case may be.)

In any event, I am asking that you use your imagination in this, so just think of me as the ultimate femme fatale.

I am just a seriously sinuously piece of female pleasure.

Oh the breasts are high and peaked.  Ready to shoot any amateur who dares to think a pinch and squeeze will do it.

And when I tell you that they once bore the names Lethal Weapons 1 & 2, believe me they earned their names. And while they may have ‘relaxed’ a bit at this stage of the game don’t assume they won’t beat you silly if you don’t handle them  with care.

These days I am  somewhat inflated.  Not the slim, trim machine I was a few years ago. I do know I’ll get there again.  This body was built to move and that it must.

So back to our fantasy then?

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Images from Google

I walk into a room of electric starlight.  All eyes turn to me.  I am wearing Calvin, off the rack no less.  A silver mesh dress of fleshy fabric that hugs every curve carelessly and with abandon.

My sexuality is a mantle worn much like the armor in days of old.  You either want me beyond all else or you despise me for it.

Every part of me exudes to mythical proportions what it means to be female.  I am the epitome of what legends are built upon

. dress 1Revival Vintage Boutique Carlos Miele Metallic Dress

Dresses from Google Images

And with long, confident strides I walk through the room.  I’m on fire.

Then my heal catches on the carpet and I find myself sailing, as if in slow motion, through the air.

The crowd gasps collectively.

I have been returned to my human stature, however humbly, and  am now laying spread eagle on the floor.

And what, you may be wondering, is where am I going with all of this?

It’s the examination of ego really.  Of what we create, of what we project…or what we think we project.

It starts as a child in the sandbox.  How you want to be seen and what in fact you manage to convince the world around you at that time that you are.

I guess in some manner it is just a part of growing up. These days, I’m not so sure. I fell asleep on the sofa the other night.  I’ve had five days off and in an effort to try and examine the world at this point in time, I isolated myself and then observed my state. I’ve been secluded.

Each day examining various stages that I’m at currently and in the recent past.

And so I woke on the sofa with the TV on displaying a long ago documentary on 2nd Life.  This weird, and in my mind, fucked up game where you create your alter ego.

The time put into playing this game is almost exhaustive to me as it seems to be like a full time affair.

And as each body part slowly came awake, I wondered if these people actually put the amount of effort that they do into their alter egos, who would they be?  And I wondered would they still be sitting at a computer screen telling a make-believe world  who they were and developing an online persona as such.

And as I watched people with real lives that were neglecting their families for this make believe world.  These people were becoming so emotionally charged and connected to these characters. CARLA SILVER

A character from 2nd Life (from Google Images)

 Now I have asked you to think of me in a certain way.  I have tried to sell it you with words.  Did you, for a brief period, see me that way?

Or did you simply laugh and think, ‘here she goes again.’

In either case, it doesn’t matter.  I’m not so two dimensional that a hot bod and perky tits can convince you of my complete female mythology.

At 2:00 AM I leaned forward now watching saddened by the documentary and what it revealed.  When, I paused to consider, did technology become sexy?  When did the creation of an animated being become more exciting that the real thing? 2nd life 62nd life 4

2nd Life landscapes & characters (from Google Images)

Then again, it really began with the automobile in terms of transferring our sexuality onto technology.

And somewhere in the mix over the last few years we think the epitome of sex is with a hard muscled man and a skeletal woman of extraordinary appearance.

Both are void of a single hair on their body except for the crown that adorns their head.

How wrong all of this is.

Sex is an exploration of one of the greatest gifts we humans can claim.  It is a beautiful study of sensation, imagination, and the resulting expression.

And my god, the imagination we’ve created in this one act.

Every year I will see any number of  two leather jackets (flying bugs) stuck back to back copulating.  In the last few weeks as I’ve walked through Queen’s Park I’ve noted the Peacocks wanting to mate.

Always, the male displays his foliage and with various moves tries to convince the female (who often looks very uninterested) that he is virile and ready.

Two very odd comparisons.

But do they feel?  As we do? There are species that do in fact mate for life such as the good ol’ Canada Goose. Crows, too, take a lifelong partner.

A few years ago there was moose featured on the evening news.  Seems he had it bad for a cow.

And we chuckle at such things.  Does it mean anything?  Not really.  Or does it?

Cleopatra was said to be the most desirable woman of her day.  Powerful, smart, beautiful. woman 4

Taken from Google Images

Yet the image on the drachma shows a woman that in this day and age would be considered far from beautiful by our standards. And I guess that’s the sticker. Perhaps that was their definition of beautiful. Still her sexuality it would seem as become legendary and mythical in its own right regardless of her appearance.

I’ve seen enough art pieces through the ages to know that what was desirable a thousand years ago doesn’t stand today.

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Taken from Google Images

And I found myself wondering at 2:08 AM if woman have always had this dilemma.  To be appealing to the male of our species in a manner we believe will nab us the best of the bunch. Strange. And as I watched these people talking dirty to each other and living out their fantasy life through animated characters on a computer screen, I must tell you I was confounded. woman3

Taken from Google Images

Now it seems we are on a stage.

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2nd Life Images taken from Google Images

Go on Craiglist and men are quite happy to take a picture of their penis and post it in its erect state.  And they will tell you they are ‘cut’ whatever that means.

And I feel deeply saddened that we now take pics of our genitals to try and excite and entice with these images.

If no emotion is involved in the act, then sex is very mechanical. Oh, sure, the body rush occurs…if it’s good.  And then what?

The loneliness   resumes. The want to be loved resumes and the crushing feelings of desperation return. So we sidle up to our computers and play games in forms that do not resemble us at all to express who we think we are.

And we continue to stumble into the future.

Bear Hugs


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He ran with abandon toward the bear then launched himself at the inanimate thing that sat idly on a sidewalk in Victoria. I had my camera at the ready to begin with, so I caught that moment of deep love that happens in make-believe that we all experience, however briefly, when we are children.

That expression of pure joy, of a dream suddenly realized. When we are small so many things are magical to us. In fact, many aspects to this life are.

And then, we grow up.

Some of us become jaded. Our hearts are broken, dreams are trashed but we move on understanding that those childhood notions were simply that.

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Still, we think back to them rather fondly, don’t we?

That desire to feel so uninhibited. Where just the joy of a sunrise could leave us breathless or a stuffed animal that needed a hug.

Or perhaps it was us that needed the hug and not the stuffed animal.

I loved Paddington Bear as a child. I’ve expressed this before.

My very first true love was Mr. Ed, the talking horse.

A beautiful Palomino whose owner was named Wilbur. I adored him and quite proudly told my father that I was going to marry Mr. Ed when I grew up.

My first heartbreak was administered then. Daddy dearest informed me that I was being stupid. I couldn’t marry a horse and besides, by the time of was of age the damn thing would be dead.

And really it wasn’t my first heartbreak. There were many, just one of the more significant ones that was bestowed upon my juvenile tendencies.

That innocence of loving, just because.

And as we grow we have our little fantasies. We have crushes on movie stars and sport stars, on characters.

At 10 years of age I fell in love with Mr. Spock on Star Trek. My girlfriend Cheryl had it bad for good ol’ Captain Kirk.

At 13 years of age I flipped over Bobby Orr. My dad took me to one of the first games Vancouver played against Boston.

And I was torn.

The love of my life was playing against my home team…but I still loved him. We beat Boston 5 to 4 during that game.

I had it bad for David Cassidy of the Partridge Family. And so the list continued. Absurd little crushes that seemed to come out of no where.

Then the heart began to be broken in earnest.

It was as if all those childhood let downs were preparing me for the grown-up stuff.

I was going sideways with the whole thing anyway. It would take a lifetime to understand fully and even now, I’m not certain I do.

There is no fault to be had. It’s just one of life’s little foibles. We make our choices or they’re made for us and we accept them.

Then we act or react to those choices.

Still, there is a sweetness I feel at wanting to run through a mud puddle at the age of 56 or at sitting up late to watch ‘Pinky & the Brain’ on re-runs.

I delighted in Despicable Me 2 and every time I see a horse I feel a little giddy.

I was about 8 or 9 years of age when we vacationed for two weeks up at Canim Lake in BC.  The horse was name King and I was prone to sleep on him at times, so enamored was I.

As I watched the little guy openly display his love for the bear when we came upon a Moose sitting on the sidewalk a little further up the way, I insisted my gal pals settle in for a pic.

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And there is an honesty to just being.  Just taking the moment and running with it, appreciating it for the simplicity and enjoyment that it offers, however silly it may seem.

If there are secrets to this life, then I would venture to say this would be one of them.  Just express yourself freely as long as it is done with love in your heart.

I hope that little boy remembers seeing the bear on the sidewalk and smiles fondly at it as he gets older.

Enjoy your day.  Peace.

 

The Universe Has Spoken – A Uterusless Year


 

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Last evening I sat finishing up at the engineer’s office having maintained his accounting records on a part-time basis for the last six years, I let my mind wander.  Prior to that I had worked full-time there for five years.

I gazed out the window.  A beautiful summer evening beckoned beyond the confines of the office.

There used to be a spectacular view when first James’ moved the office over to 4th Ave. and Main Street here in Vancouver.  An unimpeded and often breathtaking vista of Vancouver’s mountains made working in an area that was still largely industrial and not particularly attractive just shine a little brighter.

Eleven years ago I can recall going out and taking pictures of the first snow that fell on the mountains when we moved to this location.

It looked as though icing sugar had been liberally sprinkled over the whole of them.  It was so beautiful.

Tonight as I sat gazing at the view that no longer exists, trying to figure out what my fog induced brain had done a few months back, I just felt sad.

The race to develop the area after the Olympics graced our fair city is still underway.  Many of the buildings that have been erected are not particularly attractive.  Densification is the key word these days.  Not that the area was stellar to look at before, but I’d hoped that it would look better than what it does at the moment.  Each building’s footprint maximizes the space allowable to build upon in everyway.

The view really doesn’t exist any longer.  Oh you can see a bit of the mountains, but not like a few years ago.

I leaned back in my chair. It’s been a brutal week.  A lot of tears.  A lot of unexpected turn of events.

I thought back to that first run in I had with John.  He is one of partners at the architectural firm I work at, so yes, one of my boss’.

I wondered why it is I end up in these positions.  It seems like subconsciously I ignore those little red flags that go up.

No, I wait until the universe slaps me around a little and says ‘Get you ass oughta there!”  Even then, as I assure the universe that I will do just that after I do this, this and that, I often find I get kicked to the curb.

The universe has indeed spoken and I really need to listen to it better.

I was ‘warned’ when I started in this job just over five years ago by my predecessor.

When Raymond quit not even a year later, I saw ‘The Wrath of John’ in action for the first time.  It would not be the last.

I should have begun the hunt to get out four years ago after that display.

But I was convinced that I could make a difference and do the job and do if fabulously.

In the beginning I was tenacious.  Why I thought I needed to prove it to myself, I don’t know.   And I should know better by now.

Then there is this thing about timing.

I was getting healthy in everyway for the first time really in my life.  It was a tough period as I was finally tackling some of the deepest issues that have always plagued me.

It was strange.

I was trying desperately to break out of the hell I’d created in another hell I’d accepted.  And all the while the mask went on every morning.

The competent and self-assured accountant / office manager headed off into the wilds of the business world wanting to make sense of it, and trying to play the corporate chess match with effect.

And when that condemning eye of John’s fell to me and the verbal assaults began, did I stop him in his tracks right at the beginning?

No.  I tried to suck it up and be a ‘man’ about it.  After all this was just business, yes?

It continued for months.  The woman who had gone in prepared to run the place with notions of smooth efficiency began to sink.

All the knowledge I have about accounting was being challenged and the demand was to change how it was done to satisfy the partners’ need to try and understand it.

And as this was played out in a multitude of endless spreadsheets that seemingly changed in a kaleidoscopic manner I tried desperately to make sense of it and provide them with their insatiable needs in order to understand where the firm was going.

Twice a month this ritual was to be done, each containing information that just seemed to build.  And God knows, I did my best in this regard.

When I approached them about the obscene cost of storage it was at first ignored.  Only when the business slowed down was this now an issue that needed to be dealt with exponentially.

I ran the numbers by them on paper filing.  Found programs that would be ideal in converting to an electronic format.  And while I was successful in convincing them that we did indeed need to make this change, one of the partners created a program of sorts that I’ve never really understood.

Initially the receptionist had to go in an re-code a great deal of information.  A quick fix was found about a year later.  And it was not part of my job description at that point.  I simply needed to ensure that it was done in a timely manner.

When the receptionist left and was not replaced I now had to fend for myself.  I was dragging bottom at this point so I set up my own system to try and deal with the backlog as I didn’t really understand what had been set up and it just seemed every time I tried to sequester a lesson it just didn’t happen.

I was getting lost, even then I knew it. But I’m stubborn so I stuck my head in the sand and soldiered on.

I don’t remember what John said exactly to me that day, but the words were an arrow that pierced the heart and fractured that delicate child of mine.  I lost it.

I stormed after him and began to sob and scream ” You can’t talk to me like that!”

And then I was on the defensive , crying pathetically.  My voice had taken on a high-pitched childlike octave and nothing coming out of my mouth was really all that coherent.

Then he simply turned his back to me, dismissing me.

And I raged on.  That was a year and a half ago.  Oh, I knew then that I’d overstayed my welcome.  I could not work under these conditions..  No one should.

I began to put out feelers to see what was out there.  I’d be a little more careful this time out and really listen to my intuition.  I was beginning to understand the error of my ways.

A month later…”You’ve got Cancer!”

Now as much as I would have liked to continue the job search, going into an interview with the footnote..’oh, just to let you know, I do have cancer, but no worries, I’ll be just fine!’ just didn’t cut it.

And here I am, one year to the day that I had surgery.  I truly thought that would be it.  Take out the diseased parts and get on with it.

And at this moment I am just feeling sad.

Oh, it will pass, but boy, did they pick a good week to hand out five weeks notice telling me that my position was going to be ‘downsized and rationalized’ and I would be joining the ranks of the unemployed if I don’t find something in the interim.

There is more to it than the reason given.  This I can assure you.  Certain powers that be wanted me out.  It really is just that simple unfortunately.  And who they bring in to replace me, or if they contract out, I really have no clue.

I was told that I have not been very productive and they can’t afford me.  That really hurt.

I took just two weeks off after the surgery.  On the days I went in for chemo I took those off as well.  I made up the time, however, working overtime and banking it when ever I could.

Chemo messed up the thought process.  Fractured it for a time.  Pulled me into a fog so thick.

And still John’s hurtful comments continued.

Not once did either partner sit me down and express concern over me or my job performance.  Not once did they encourage me to take a leave of absence and just heal.

Yet every error, everything I forgot to do was underlined.  Still, everything managed to get done.

And as I sit here now, feeling rather beaten and defeated, I do know I’m leaving the place in far better shape than when I first arrived.  I will always honour the job regardless.

And you know, I wish I’d been able to tell John when those words were bestowed just how terrified I was.

Of him.  Of the drugs that were invading my body. Of dying.

But I didn’t.

Each morning I rose from my bed and put the mask of accountant / office manager on though now it was cracked and so hideous to me but I was desperate to believe in it still.

What if this mind of mine stayed like this?  I didn’t want to go there.

The phone would ring while I was trying to focus on the numbers before me, and after the phone call had ended…the train of thought was gone.  The numbers sometime looking like another language. Then those tendrils of fear began to slip in.

What was happening to me?

I really began to understand in many ways I was simply a statistic.  At work, getting cancer.  It’s a numbers game.

And I won’t tell you how many times I cried myself to sleep in the last year trying to deal with the all the things that were rising up and at times feeling quite hysterical, but if there is one thing I’ve learned well, it’s how to hide it.

And I am a forgiving soul.

Some might say I should not make such things public record.  I’ve nothing to hide really. I never have.

I feel no shame.  I only wish I’d not taken the abuse for as long as I did.  Those that pay our salary have a certain power though.  And while I often would just walk away saying nothing when these barbs were tossed out, I still allowed it to continue.

Oh, I knew I had to get out of there and was preparing as such.  I wanted to get the publishing company up and running and then get the book launched first.  And I wanted to ensure that everything was brought up to date so that whomever replaced me would at least have a bit of a head start.  I was about 75% complete in that quest.

And happily my synoptic functions have returned full force, though there is still a little residue effect that is occurring.

And a year later the Universe has spoken.  I have a much different path now to explore.  It has been a toxic year on so many fronts.  Now it’s time to move on and heal on every front.

You can’t make lemonade out of sour grapes no matter how hard you try.  Best to bow out gracefully and know that karma always has a way of balancing things out.

Mercury is coming out of a significant retrograde insisting that I leave my toxic past behind me and I will.

One year later, I am still here.  I will know the freedom to create, I will know the freedom to love, I will know the freedom to express my true passions and I will live these.

Peace and love to all of you.

Namaste.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Things That Go Bump In the Night…Or Crash!


Queens Park August 24 624

I had a great day yesterday.  Woke refreshed.  Did my domestic duties and ate a great breakfast while putting together my blog post.  Then I headed out for an hour-long walk that took me through Queen’s Park.

As I approached the petting zoo a peacock screeched and his tail feathers came up and fanned out in a myriad of beautiful blues and iridescent greens.

Peacock 1 Peacock 3 peacock2

I stopped then and watched as he paraded about trying to catch a female’s attention and her fancy.  He would shake his bottom then his plummage would quiver enticingly.

The female behaved as if she was bored but she would get a little closer on each round which made the male that much more excited.

I smiled as I left the two peacocks and their counterparts to continue their mating dance.

I finished my walk feeling invigorated. Soon I’ll be running at 5:00 AM again.  It was good to just connect to that area of my world once more.

I had a productive day, a good day.

I fell asleep quickly and was in deep.

th

The sudden crash pulled me out of sleep with an adrenalin rush.  I laid in my bed, ears focused on any additional sounds but nothing came.  I tiptoed to my door and opened it quietly.

I knew immediately there was no other presence in my home.

So I turned on the lights to find out what had gone bump in the night.

The living room and kitchen were secure.  I looked into the office I am setting up.

Ah!

There on the floor was a photograph I’d hung temporarily.  Thankfully the frame doesn’t have glass in it.  It would seem the nail had not been secure.  I picked it up inspecting it briefly before setting it aside.

One last glance around and I slipped back into my bed.  My heart still beating far too fast. I was very much awake and so what had begun as a great nights sleep had a 45 minute break in it.

I thought seriously about using a personal day today.  Much to be done and I’m on a mission these days.

I will ensure this evening that all picture hangers are secure.  A few weeks back I found some art pieces at a consignment shop.  The frames alone were worth more than their cost.  One was a Bateman…and an unusual one at that.  I will be making it a point to pop in there on a regular basis down the road.

bateman-batol6

Old Buggy & Winter Birds by Robert Bateman…my recent find!

Monday has reached the halftime showing and it has been a morning of technical difficulties.  All the things I wanted to complete have been trumped.

Time for some lunch and hopefully a bit more productivity this afternoon.