Stripping

Stripping is a lot of work for any one.  I have been stripping for years, layer by layer and it is tough work, no matter how much area you have to uncover.

And no, I am not talking about stripping your clothes off, but glad I got your attention eh?..lol..

In short, I was raised a Roman Catholic, my Mother French, my father Ojibway. Two people who grew up in the same home town, the only difference was, my father was put in a residential school as a child and stripped of his being as he knew it, his language, his self confidence, his heritage, like it was all dirty laundry. I could and should write a book about life with Dad and maybe I will some day. Right now I am still learning so much about who he was, and who I am. One thing I know I am NOT, is catholic. I struggled with the confusion of what happened to my father, with praising a God, a religion that took the souls of innocent children. How can anyone praise such an act, done in the name of their God?

There was this elderly couple that use to come and get me to go to church when I was about 7 or 8 years old. And they always told me the night before, do not eat breakfast before church! You are suppose to attend church on an empty stomach. Of course I wondered why but never asked for an answer. I got up early, got bathed and dressed always in a dress for church and waited to be picked up by the elderly friends of the family. Upon entering the church there was this odour, today I believe it was probably incense and there would be an alter boy lighting candles about the alter area before service. I sat about mid way in the room on a cold wooden straight back pew. There was no falling asleep here, that’s for sure but yet I wondered how some people did fall asleep about half way through a service, usually older gents. Between my 2 elders I was huddled, he would sent his hat on his lap, she her purse on her lap.

Then I looked up at the alter, every Sunday, to the man, the statue on the cross, with painted blood dripping from the nail holes in his palms and atop his feet, blood running down his face from the thorn crown, these things done by man, who were apparently made in this God’s likeness. Why would they kill one of their own, crucify a son of a God? And each Sunday we who sat in the pews were told to ask for forgiveness for this act and that the God did forgive us for doing this to his son. Yet I felt guilty, for what we humans did. Then we are asked to drink his blood and eat his body during communion. Yes I knew it was watered down wine and pressed bread rings, but the fact still implanted in my brain, the guilt and the eating of his body and drinking of his blood. How horrific it was!!! for my little child brain. Argh. All this on an empty stomach!!

9 years ago, I started reading, more and more about religions and faith. I attended 3 different churches and boy that little confused girl was alive and well once again. So many questions, but this time, having to seek the true answers myself.

In the past 7 years, I have been stripping all these childhood religious beliefs from my thought process and began to follow a pagan path, along with Wicca teachings and the culture of my heritage, my native heritage.

There is still a long way to go and after talking to some, it is pretty much never ending. I am seeing just how magickal the world really is and beautiful with out the guilt and trauma imposed on children and adults through the catholic church.

I don’t expect anyone to walk with me in my current beliefs and hope no one is expecting me to walk with them and their beliefs or that one is wrong and one is right.

It is what it is. Its about finding inner peace with our beliefs and questioning everything. It is about pecking all the fruits and nuts off the top of a muffin, getting back to the basic then adding what ever flavour of icing you choose.

After all, it is my own soul I am feeding and my souls palette is sensitive to all tastes at this point in my life.

So mote it be!

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Don’t Worry About Me

Trying harder on some days than others to be even a little light in some one else’s day gets exhausting, especially when so many are blind to the sparks of life. I made a vow years ago, to be that person, yet not make it my job to carry other people’s problems on my shoulders or even think I can fix them, because I can’t. It can be a very lonely world at times for people like me. And that statement alone will make others wonder what the hell does she mean, people like her? Well if you don’t know me by now, maybe you really are not suppose to know me at all? Even in my loneliness I find serenity. It is at those times we I recuperated and listen to the thoughts of the Creator to rejuvenate my soul, my spiritual self. There is so much I want to practice, yet time is short, days and years are quickly creeping by and I don’t really notice just how fast until it is my birthday again and again. Nothing and no one lasts forever on this planet, some things and people gone too early, or is the timing perfect with regards? With those thoughts, I learn not to take things for granted and live in the moment. My mind goes blank when people ask me about any future plans, again because I believe all we have is the here and now.

So I will take my lonely days to build back up my loss of faith, as days of grace. I will just listen to the sounds of Mother Earth, look for signs from the Creator and begin a new day once my heart is full once again, with a bounty to share.

Everything in it’s time and timing is everything. Remember, even feeling lonely is something to learn from, give it time.

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Spring Cleaning!

Spring Cleaning…”Clutter is no more than postponed decisions.” – Barbara Hempmill
I declutter at least 4 times a year. I always feel better when I get rid of stuff. Even back in the day when each my kids left home, I would give them pictures and documents from years past. I can let go of things very easily, always have. Especially if it is of no use to my current way of living or life. My home is my haven, a place I feel relaxed in when I come through the door and when I don’t feel that upon opening the door, its time to purge!..lol..

Spring cleaning for me is 12 months a year..take a load off Fanny!!

Things That Went Bump In The Night

I think from the time I picked up a pencil I knew what my passion felt like but could not put into words what I was feeling at such a young age. So life went on. However, there was 3 words that followed me…

Romeo and Juliette.

I recall at a very young age, writing those 3 words on my bedsheets at night as I went into a fantasy world, in the dark, on the top bunk, in a little room off the kitchen in a house that grandma lived.  By the way where was grandma living when we lived in her big old house? And where was Dad working that kept him away for weeks at a time? And why did cousin Lynn live with us and why was it her putting us to bed at night instead of Mom? Having 10 children can’t make a Mom that tired..can it? Those thoughts brought tears to my eyes. I needed to see my Mom!..Mom! Mom! I whispered out loud. The bedroom door slowly opened, I could see her silouette with the dim kitchen light behind her. What is the matter? Without coming closer, I knew it was Lynn’s voice..not Mom. I told her I wanted my Mom. No, she said, go to sleep, your Mom is tired!..as she slowly brought the room back into darkness by shutting out the dim kitchen light with shutting the door.

Quietly sobbing I went back to tracing out each letter written in lead on my bedsheet..Romeo and Juliette. Then I started to think with anger, I hated my Mom! Why couldn’t she come kiss and hug me good night!? It wouldn’t of taken long. I needed to talk to my Mom! I needed to ask her about Romeo and Juliette!

I knew how to get her to listen to me. I am going to write 3 other words on my bed sheet and she will see it when she does the laundry. I wrote the 3 words, tracing them over and over with hurt and angry feelings, till the lead tip broke on my pencil! I began to doze off with my head on my tear stained pillow..reading those 3 words in my head then with a quiet whisper and a sigh…I read them one last time… I hate Mom….before my thoughts were overcome by the darkness of the room and the heaviness of my eye lids from crying…I hate Mom

No Angel, Just A Mother

“Political mayhem, may cause havoc with our mental health, by inducing anguish and distrust. But the man who uses a God or any religion as a reason for committing the ultimate crime, physical/sexual abuse, can destroy another man’s spirit, which encompasses his entire being, mind, body and soul! If I am within the walls of the catholic church it is only to stand on guard of my children from that which dwells there, pedophiles and has committed itself to a constant state of purgatory. I will always practice what I preach, one of those states being, to protect our greatest asset and the unconditional love and innocence of our children. A vow I took when I gave birth to my first child, when I began working in a daycare and a rehab centre. Yet most importantly, a vow to my own inner child.” – CS

100 Ways

Standing in the check out line, scanning the magazines on the rack as I inch my way to the next available cashier, it seems every 2nd magazine front has that one intriguing snag line..”100 Ways to….”

..shed pounds

…enjoy winter

…get freebies

…have sex

…cook liver

…mend relationships

…and so on…

Surely there is a list that pertains to each us at some point in our lives, our week or our day? That will make us snatch that $4.99 book of advertisement, pay for and hide in our purse or jacket, so our significant other, our child or visitors to our home don’t get a hold of it, see that line and think, “Oh, she/he is having trouble in that area huh.”

But you know what, that actually is probably not true 99% of the time when they find your magazine, they are not thinking of your shortcoming, your lack of knowledge in a certain area at all.  They are looking for that 100 list that points out their own shortcomings/downfalls or lack of knowledge of……….

Read a lot, research. Trust yourself: you’re not going crazy, what you see/feel/sense is real. Be your own teacher: your soul will always guide you. Trust in the Universe, you’re here for a reason.” A.G

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