Archive for Awakening

A Silver Lining

Posted in Beauty, Faith, Gratitude, Hope, Love, Spirituality, Wisdom with tags , , , , , , , on September 29, 2014 by TaijituMartini

silver lining

I always try to remember that pain is a necessary part of our spiritual growth
And that the Universe is unfolding as it should.
Lately, keeping my Zen-ism in check is proving to be challenging as life tosses obstacles at me like oversized donkey kong barrels.
I’ll just keep jumping.

Never let go of hope. It’s the one seed that will keep you deeply grounded.
Over the weekend I caught a glimpse of that hope, disguised as a beautiful silver lining in the sky.

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Rebellion

Posted in Empath, Faith, Gratitude, Hope, Love, Passion, Prophecy, Spirituality, Wisdom, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 28, 2014 by TaijituMartini

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Finding Peace

Posted in Beauty, Faith, Gratitude, History, Love, Nostalgia, Protector, Spirituality, Wisdom with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 5, 2013 by TaijituMartini

mandela

A humble man of extraordinary charisma, courage, strength, and perseverance.

Your 95 years on this earth ended today, but now you’ll be granted golden angel wings to fly.

Thank-you for being such a beautiful soul,

your inspiration is immeasurable.

Believe

Posted in Beauty, Dreaming, Faith, Passion, Spirituality with tags , , , , , , on November 14, 2013 by TaijituMartini

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The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams

~Eleanor Roosevelt~

Finding Truth

Posted in Beauty, Dreaming, Gratitude, Hope, Humour, Love, Nostalgia, Passion, Poetry, Spirituality, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 28, 2013 by TaijituMartini

I was definitely a brat in elementary school. I was such an instigator.

Laughter was my cure for the private school blues.

I was the goofball distracting anyone who would pay attention to my random Jim Carrey-inspired comedy routines. Of course I had no idea who Jim Carrey was at that point in my life, but in similar fashion I mimicked facial expressions and zoned in on those little things society found important and poked huge holes in them. I’m no Jim Carrey but I sure do like his style. Always have. He’s genuine, humble, and his antics make me laugh, all admirable qualities. Let’s do dins Jim. I could use a good laugh these days. His sister actually lived a few blocks from where I do now a couple of years ago, but rumour had it she moved and so I fear my chances of running into Ace at Target are slim, but never say never…

Like Jim, I realized at a very early age that I could help other people feel good. I loved to make people laugh.  I’ve toned it down over the years, because being the centre of attention was never my focus, it was really the laughter that I craved.  I had this male alter-ego, a Tasmanian devil character, a whirling dirvish with a raspy voice, and I’d line up my friends in a row and put on a show for them. Kids can be so weird. So many people seem to lose that freedom as their life progresses. Never let your imagination wander too far away. It’s a precious commodity. Keep it safe.

I was a hyper kid, although you’d never guess that now.

I’ve mellowed with age.

I was contradicting the norm, observing, and searching for the truth even at a very young age.  Retrospectively, a lot makes sense now. I guess that’s what life does. At its core it’s a grand teacher, and if we are swift enough, we can often catch a little whiff of truth.

One teacher in particular had an extreme distaste for my antics.  Truth was, her grade 6 English classes were painfully boring.  She was Scottish and no-nonsense. Stiff pleated eighties clothing and an equally stiff upper lip to match.  She didn’t appreciate my tomfoolery. We butted heads on a daily basis, usually ending up with me banished to the hallway for half the class. What kind of punishment was that supposed to be exactly, wandering around aimlessly in a hallway?! I guess one did feel like a major tool standing there trying desperately to look busy while doing absolutely nothing, as numerous teachers passed by with that, “what have you done now?” look on their face.  Point made: it was humiliating. Whatever the strategy behind the ever-so-popular hall punishment movement of the time, it clearly never had much effect, I was up to my old tricks again within minutes of doing my hard time in the hall. I hated established conformity. I didn’t want to fit in there. I was a free spirit.

Solution: rebel against the authority. So I did, and so I always will.

quiet

I don’t like being silenced by authority

Truth is I didn’t find my way in the education system until much later on in life, first in College and then at University. College as an adult was actually an enjoyable experience, making some fun buddies along the way. I had a great group of friends who liked to laugh right along with me. It was such a nice relief compared to my prior educational experiences. University was more solitary but an equally comfortable space where I soaked in knowledge, worked hard to make the Dean’s List, and I was actually sad when the experience came to an end.  In complete opposition to my prior childhood experiences in private school, I came  to understand that I did in fact appreciate education.  Never thought I’d hear myself saying that. Turns out I’m a knowledge seeker, and at my happiest when I’m absorbing wisdom and expanding my horizon. The best part about wisdom is that it can come from the strangest of places.

Funny how you can come to certain conclusions as your life unfolds. I always thought I hated that teacher for stifling my imagination. She had a big grudge where I was concerned, and once that happened I was doomed. The hallway and I were good buddies. We knew each other intimately. After so many hall visits the principal and I also became regular pals. Well, a pal who gave me crap for expressing my individual creativity and sent me back to my class. Not much of a friend there. Can’t say I’m broken inside over that loss.

All these years later I recently stumbled on a familiar poem. For the second time in my life. Everything is connected. Quantum connectivity.

The latin translation of the poem is “ Desired Things”, written in 1927 by American writer Max Ehrmann.  That Scottish teacher with a grudge had forced us to memorize it in grade 6. It was difficult and long. Not something that screamed fun. We were too young to understand its importance then. I get it now.

Reading it today I suddenly saw that Scottish curmudgeon in a completely different light. She didn’t really have a grudge. She was doing the best she could at that time in her life, and just wanted me to listen, which didn’t include distracting everyone else from what they should be doing at the time. She was trying to impart some wisdom by getting us to memorize that long and difficult prose. I didn’t see it then but I do now. She was just a soul navigating her path, trying to pass along a valuable message. At the end of the day, we’re all in the same boat. Trying to make a difference, trying be heard, and trying to do the best we can to keep our heads above water.

Never stop swimming. Never give up.

Desiderata

Sparks

Posted in Gratitude, Hope, Love, Spirituality, Writing with tags , , , , , , , on July 16, 2013 by TaijituMartini

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Thanks to all of you for lighting my flame

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Go West-The Conclusion

Posted in Clairsentience, Clairvoyance, Hope, Love, Spirituality with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 14, 2013 by TaijituMartini

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Where was I? Oh right, it’s going to be one hell of a fight. Inflammation of my brain and all that jazz. Not your average Tuesday.

I realized that I might still have a chance to get back down to my body. I was in a place where you think something and it just happens, right? Well then, I would make it so. Abracadabra. This was something I knew I had to do, not something I necessarily wanted to do. After an entire day of attack, I knew my body was the weakest it had ever been in my life. How would I ever have the strength to get back to it? Floating free of this heavy human shell was such a welcome relief. The lure of continuing this magic carpet ride on the other side was far greater than the desire to head back to that sick bed anytime soon.

It was definitely a P. Swayze moment, playing out exactly like that early scene from “Ghost” where Sam’s looking up in the street at the dazzling spirit lights calling him from the heavens, but he can’t bear to leave Molly and turns his back on them. I didn’t want to lose my chance like Sam, but I didn’t want this new found comfort to go away either. I knew though that as much as I wanted to stay in this warm beautiful place it was time to return to the land of the living. That’s when I got my voice. Well, not really my voice, it was all done telepathically. Didn’t I mention already that communication is super advanced over there? Here’s what I remember. I did what any good floating former-Catholic casper would do in my situation.

I prayed.

O.K Creator. God. Buddha. Allah. I’ll give you a few names as I’m not exactly sure who YOU are, but I can feel your presence. It was all around me. Please help me. I know I’m not always the best human being, but I think I’m a good person and I don’t think it’s my time to go. I feel that I have more to do. Please take away this horrible pain and help me to heal. I promise if you send me back I’ll work towards being better. In everything I do. I will dedicate myself to helping other people whenever I can. For the rest of my life. I promise you this. With everything I am. Please help me now. Help me. Help me to live.

In a blinding flash I was back in that heavy pain-ridden body again. I had shot there with such speed that the intense pain suddenly hit me again like a bus. The flood of emotion that  came next was almost too much to bear. I could feel oodles of warm tears flowing down the sides of both my cheeks. Was I crying? I guess I was. It was the release of everything. The pure joy of knowing I was going to live, and the deep pain of having to leave my greatest ecstacy behind. Let me tell you, once you’ve felt that kind of joy, life on earth is never the same again. I was absolutely heartbroken I had to leave it behind. My fever broke within minutes. I could actually feel my temperature dropping. The throbbing pain deep inside my skull began to subside. Slowly but surely I could feel myself coming back to life. Oh My God. They listened, and I was getting a second chance at life.

The weeks and months following the West Nile were challenging. Not much you can do other than retrain yourself. Baby steps they say. Simple things proved difficult, things we often take for granted, like walking a few steps forward in a line without falling over. My equilibrium was way off. My system had suffered a big blow.

I guess the government takes this sort of thing seriously. Public Health started stalking me the very next day. Doc Moron’s tests came back positive for WNND and I guess it was her duty to inform the city. At least she got something right. She even called me at home herself to tell me the crazy news, telling me how very rare it was, and how lucky I was to be young enough to fight it. I agreed to be monitored for a period of one year. I guess even ignoramus’ can improve their bedside manner when death is on the line.

It was protocol to assign me a private nurse, a friendly R.N that came twice a week for a year to draw blood, take my vitals, and monitor my progress with tests. In the first few months following I was having a lot of trouble with the simplest of things. One day I was given the task of spelling a few simple four-letter words backwards. I couldn’t do it. That was embarassing. Felt like such a tool. My brain just wasn’t ready to perform yet. Fine brain, I’ll take it easy. No advanced calculus for you. I had extreme fatigue and couldn’t walk properly, let alone around the block with my dog without collapsing in a heap. My R.N would explain just how lucky I was that summer. Her client list involved many of the other West Nile cases in the city. There was a huge jump in cases that summer compared to the year before. A mother of two young children who wasn’t much older than I was also got infected with West Nile around the same time. She was completely paralyzed from the waist down and was in a wheelchair. Her prognosis wasn’t good at the time. I hope she’s walking again today. She also told me that two of her other patients had lost their battle during the time she was monitoring my condition. I was grateful for my body now, as exhausted and un-cooperative as it was, it had carried me through all of this, and was working overtime to give me my life back. It took a good year before I was feeling strong again.

Leave it up to me to get the West Nile Virus. So random. Even more random was that I managed to trace the culprit mosquito back to my rooftop patio, and I can even remember feeling the exact bite as it chomped down on my arm. That was the night before the rash developed. I noticed it happening because it hurt. I thought it might have been a spider bite at the time. Mosquito bites don’t sting that much. West Nile bites do. This story is full of weird tidbits, but the strangest of all to me is that somewhere deep inside I knew that I had the West Nile Virus from the minute the rash showed up. Of course I’d googled rashes and probably came across pictures of West Nile rashes that looked similar to mine, but lying on the table in that doctors office I remember that my body was already telling me what I needed to know. My intuition was yelling it at me but I wouldn’t listen. No way, it can’t be that. Way too rare. I remember listening to my girlfriend getting increasingly annoyed, telling Doc Moron that it wasn’t the chicken pox, and I suddenly blurted out, “Maybe it’s the West Nile”. Cue the condescending attitude and a brief snicker-laugh from Doc Moron, “I don’t think so”.  Think again Doc Moron. Think again.

Turns out that nice RN that monitored my condition for a year afterwards is based out of the same University where I recently finished my degree. She worked there as part of the team that are conducting ongoing studies to monitor the epidemiology of West Nile patients. There’s that quantum connectivity again. See, I told you it’s everywhere. All my results are documented for posterity ten minutes away. Over the years I’ve occasionally been in contact with the MD that heads up the studies, and he’s invited me to take a trip there sometime to see all of my collected information, and to chat with him about some of the other cases and  long-term effects that still linger after recovery. I’d like to believe I’m back to normal, or as normal as I was before the West Nile knocked on my door, but the truth is I’m a completely different person now. Mind, body, and soul. My life will never be the same as it was before. A completely different existence now. I’m grateful for each minute, and work to keep my promise. The proof is in the pudding so they say. I appreciate all the moments that make up my life and try to help other people whenever I can. I strive to be a better person. My Spirituality has evolved and so have I. I was given the precious gift of knowing for fact that we are all part of a greater scheme. We are all connected. We will never truly be alone. It’s knowing that death is simply a doorway to the next place. What’s on the other side? Love.

I may be just one little speck, but it takes a million drops of water to make up an ocean. I play with a completely different deck now.

12 people lost their battle with the West Nile Virus that summer in 2005.

See, I told you the number 13 was my lucky number.