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Sunday, July 24, 2016

Hope as a Pilgrimage of Interior Illumination

so i'm sitting here feel lost, need to talk, I am alone, so I guess it's just us. No fancy links, or images, or entertainments, just us

recovering from latest pan-gastrointestinal system meltdown, feeling physically weak, although to my credit I drove myself down to AF beach and just dove into the ocean for a wonderful swim, I'm thinking ocean swimming is pretty sweet after all , I miss the Ontario lakes of my child hood.

Not so much new although I endeavoured to act like a regular human being an participated in the recent local art symposium about cultural mapping. So much seemingly new information encoded with a blend of new knowledge and exclusive jargon. Very interesting, lots of incredibly energetic people with innovative thinking and "ways forward". I am sincerely glad I attended. yet the after affect, the side affect if you will, of being in such close physical, emotional and spiritual proximity to so many people, with my ears tuned in and empathy unable to filter the many competing - and justifiably so - factions.

Some authentic, compassionate people, I think I could be safe with, potential friends whose parallel challenges keep us forever isolated from each other and others. Looking inward, thinking hard, straining for insight and "outsight".

So much pain inside, tears while I swam, the ocean reclaiming, me remaining hidden in full view. The rawness of the ocean welcomes me it's a flirtation with danger, I know, but it soothes me so.AM i heading towards an edge, a brink? I don't know I am pleased that I spoke up in many ways these past few weeks. So much injustice in the world and all of it needing time and care yet everything is rushing around accelerating into madness. the water slows me down of necessity and compels me deeper. It is good there were many others there.It's vast embrace  calls to me i belong there when I do nowhere else.I want to belong, I do have things to offer, even if it's just my ever-listening ears, yet would I find connection if I left this world, I rather doubt it and the concomitant trap enrages me.

Hoping by writing I could reach my tears again. I'm very tired. Always it seems.

I want to be feel I matter, that i am worth this life, what will it take? It seems an impossible goal, I am almost 53. Do I take myself up on the challenge of a pilgrimage? And spend the rest of my days in anonymity seeking and destroying connection to this earth?

Madness and sadness. Enveloping, caressing, seeking ingress. Am I allowing it in or out? I don't know. Illumination escapes.

So many people putting their faith in a god. I seem obsessed with this idea and need to keep these kinds of thoughts to myself.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Still Unpacking my white privilege


Twitter is my latest addiction and I got into trouble. There's so much I don't fully get about my white privilege that is quite obvious to women of colour, I feel really fucking stupid and horrible that I hurt some women in my ignorance. When I re-read my words I do sound high and mighty. Fuck. Just tired now. Tired of fighting, of being wrong coupled with feeling unjustly labelled (that's my pride speaking up). All of this intersectional thinking is confusing because,because I am white I have all this unearned privilege which seems to overshadow every time I have felt hurt. I need to find my voice and I also need to NOT oppress anyone when I do speak. Feeling ashamed, chastened.