The Coming

This is Castle Hill. I went to a 7 day shamanic retreat here about 15 years ago.

It was traumatic… the facilitator was on some power trip, the people involved were not my kinda people.

Yet amazing things happened.  I finally connected with my mother who had died 20 years before.  She came in loud and clear as I sat in a beautiful meadow watching, more feeling, the wind whirl through the high tops of the pine trees.

I found I could move the wind.  I actually made it change direction.  It only lasted a short time because I lost concentration – and then I guess – the wonder of being able to do that. I lost the ability to BE the wind.  Being the wind was extraordinary!!

My mother said something that I knew would come to fruition.  She said there will come a time when you will choose your words carefully because through them, you will create yourself.

That time is here .  I can’t use so many words.  Any words that create limitation, constraints, smallness judgement.

I love the word vulnerability.  I can’t handle resilience.

This gangsta music I’m listening to is soooo on the energetic wave I’m on.

The music is all about vulnerablity. They are over fake. Fake anything. Tell the fucking truth is their raison d’etre.  See my open wounds…this is me.  It’s ugly…it’s truth!

I

I was talking to a millennial last night.  His name is Aidan and he was saying…’our generation is the most woke’

I agreed. They are. They live in 360 degrees. They fall up is a way to say it. They defy logic -the limitations the previous generations held themselves within. Those walls.

They seem free and according to Aidan they are. He doesn’t understand the dark ages of 2000 and before.

They sound entitled when you first talk to them. But they have depth and are layered. They have sorted shit out and they’re not going to be shat on.

They don’t believe in obligation. You can’t lay the ‘but they expect you to attend because that’s what we do”.  Millennials don’t.  They are over that particular constraint.

They live life fully. Every moment. They’re all about the golden age.  They see it, they believe it.

Aidan said to me…you may not believe it, but the golden age is coming.  I said, I am the golden age.  I’ve come.

Now who’s the millennial eh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ganesh’s Toes

It’s been fun!

I’ve been experimenting with what it’s like when people are all judgey-judgey.  I myself am like that…so I’m learning about myself!

There is one thing I don’t want to do; I don’t want to judge people anymore.  It seems inherent in me though so I am fast tracking (through life lessons) to mitigate this tendency in me.

So…I stayed with my auntie and uncle while down in a small city 2 hours south of home a couple of days ago.  I went  there for an ultrasound appt to check out suspicious nodules in my neck. (More about that late.)

While at my rellies, I mentioned that I was had such fun with my  gay teenage nephew over the summer.  I told her how much he was the light of my life and ….wait for it….how I loved his ability to be non judgemental.

My auntie said…”how would he even know he’s gay!! That’s just not right! ”

When people say really really ridiculous things like that…my head starts to whirl and I lose balance and can’t think….I was going to say ‘can’t think straight’ but in view of the topic…I’m leaving the straight bit out. Hahahaha

I thought. Incredible. Amazing. Extraordinary. Based on a belief that “it’s not natural” she’s wiping whatever the percentage of people who are gay in the world, off her radar. Or gadar as I like to say.

This gay boy on the other hand is fine about people going all judgey judgey on him. A friend’s husband told me recently that gays should all die of Aids.  I asked my nephew how he would deal with people who said things like that and he said…”It’s fine Dinny, that’s their opinion…they’re entitled to have one.” Which was exactly what I hoped he’d say.  He always meet my expectations of high vibrational thinking.

He doesn’t do the whirling brain thing  like me.  He just sticks to the facts. He knows who he is. Other people can say what they like.

I am learning from him.

My father was just like that too.  He stuck to facts and was such a clear thinker.  I miss him terribly!

Anyway….this post is just a ramble through a day in the life.  No  exciting or thought provoking – just here to yak.

Tara last evening with Ganesh looking on – not a great shot I admit.  And last photo…Ganesh’s toes.  The sweetest feet ever!!

Clouds

Once in a blue moon I get to do energy work with an amazing woman I  met over 10 years ago at a light language retreat on the lovely Coromandel Peninsula.

Yesterday was one of those moon days.

We started with an amazing wine on Karikari Beach -a full bodied and chocolatey pinotage (only half a bottle) that matched the scenery.   Most people match food with wine. Me – not so much. It’s  about the view.

Energetically Jane and I work in completely different areas and galaxies. I have no idea what she’s going on about when she refers to what she’s doing and she doesn’t get my stuff either.

We work completely in synch when we get together though. I love that.

Wonderful and powerful stuff happens every time .

This time we found the clouds danced with us. They were perfectly normal when we arrived…acting like everyday clouds. After  we started working  they became more creative and drew themselves into the energetic conversation we were laying down.

 

 

 

Special days

Today was a great day.

I went to Whangarei, two hours south, to see a specialist about nodules on the right side of the throat that to me looked like a goitre.

I wasn’t too interested until a fellow blogger (thanks Karel) posted a piece on facebook about goitres and how they  sometimes are malignant. I booked in to see my doctor and he acted fast and got me a specialist’s appointment within a week . My best friend and I decided to make the trip a girls day out.

The specialist at Whangarei Base Hospital  was fabulous to talk to, very chatty, and did a nasoendoscopy. He asked if I wanted the public health system or access to private health providers for the ultrasound which would determine if there was any abnormalities.  The cost of the ultrasound was about $190 nzd ($140 usd). Or I could use the public system for free.

After talking to the front desk in  I opted to pay for the ultrasound.  There is a waiting list of up to 5 months in the public health system- which is ridiculous.

So I am booked in for late Feb.

The cost of health care in New Zealand is pretty good. My local medical doctor charged  $15usd for the initial consultation, to schedule the appointment with the specialist. We are  in a low socio-economic area so no matter what your income – everyone pays a lower fee than say, in Auckland,  where the average income is high and the cost to see a doctor is about $50 usd.

The specialist I saw today was free. NZ in general provides free medical treatment to everyone.  The funding comes out of general taxes.

 

After the appointment we frolicked.  We Went to the Whangarei Falls which is a classic curtain waterfall.  There has been a week of rain so the volume of water ipping over the edge was pretty good.

Funnily enough my cousin Tanya had flown into Auckland the night before from Lost Angels ( LA) and flew into Whangarei so she joined the road trip back up north.

It was a lovely walk around the falls. The next stop was Kerikeri to meet up with a rooster and a magnolia tree…as it turned out.

The magnolia tree is 150 years old and looking gorgeous I have to say.

Going North!

So this is a couple of years ago. This hitch hiker was asking to go north but really wanted to go south-west. I think the two question marks might have been a hint. My best friend and I took him to his destination to avoid further confusion.  It was an uneventful trip.

Gotta Blame Somebody

I always pick up hitch hikers. There used to be more of them 20 years ago…it is not as common now but there are still opportunities to meet completely new people.

My Australia cousin Tanya, had to be taught how to do this. In Oz picking up people off the side of the road is considered dangerous and weird.   Tanya will be living in the Far North of New Zealand for part of every year so it was my job to inculcate her with the ways of the area.

The main way is: don’t leave a person on the road – pick them up.

She is ‘all in’ now.  I have even seen her prepare for a one hour drive south and make sure the back seat is clear for extras.  She is nothing but a fast learner!!

So she and I went for a drive about an hour south of town earlier this week.  We saw a bloke just on the outskirts of town. We stopped. He jumped in.

That was the beginning of the next 45 mins where an extraordinary story opened out – in direct contrast to the corners of the road – which  got progressively tighter.  It is the Mangamuka Gorge.

This guy had murdered a paedophile and buried him in the back yard

.  Oh yeah, you say….sure he did!

I know, had I not scanned his energy before he got to this part – which was at about the 15th corner of the Mangamuka Gorge, I would had been dubious too.

But he had already told us about his years in children’s homes, the period at the Catholic Boys Home where he was and saw other boys raped.  He talked about his attempts to get financial compensation for himself and others. “Because that stuff fucks you up and money isn’t the answer but it helps with life a bit”.  He talked about his friendship with top NZ lawyers as he worked to get compensation. Lawyers who I am well acquainted with through my own interest in reading civil rights cases.  His facts were on point and he was clearly a highly intelligent person.

Then he got to the bit where he told us he’d killed this bloke. He said…”you know, it was a trigger.  I remembered those times when that stuff happened to kids around me, and to me, …and it set off a volcano in me.”

He was on the run for a bit. Then his missus was in bed with her lover and she told him what had happened.

He went to prison. He’s out now. He’s one of the loveliest open-hearted people I have met recently.

I googled him some days later.  Googled this case. The articles said his case went down in NZ criminal justice history as ‘almost unique’.

From a newspaper article at the time. “Mr King (the barrister) said he’d never seen someone who had admitted murder giving evidence at the trial of others accused of the same killing. ”

He said no-one was responsible other than himself.  Only he was involved.

The killing was violent. It was spontaneous. At least two of the people that were at the murder were reliving trauma from their own lives. Trauma of sexual abuse.

The Sensible Sentencing Trust, which is an advocacy group that says its core work is to; ‘judge the judges’ (I’m not too sure about this group!) said   “no-one had the right to take a life, no matter how despicable that person was. While the Trust does not condone violence in any way to any person, it is fair to say the deceased in this case was no loss to society and won’t be missed.” 

Well….what do we know about the paedophile tho?  What happened to him that he accumulated miles of convictions for indecent assault? Who gives them the right to say a person is no loss to society and won’t be missed?

Maybe if he hadn’t been molested…the rest would not have happened.  I don’t know his history. It’s so easy to lay blame….on someone.

This post is about blame.  That blame assuages anger and guilt.  I do not like this word.

It does not address truth!

 

End and Beginning

Here are some truths.

My nephew (he’s not really my nephew since I am an only child. He is the son of my first cousin) is a catalyst for change.

Four years ago I looked at him sitting on the deck at my house with his friend (he was about 12) and saw greatness in him. Saw his energetic power (power is not the word) and it felt like part of the evolution of Homo sapiens to Homo spiritus.

My vocabulary is offline this morning.

I thought, wow, I want to know this kid!!

This last summer I have seen this power – which now more clearly looks like part of a brand new expression of being human – gather and become more solid in him.

It shows up with his mum’s girlfriends who say they love being hugged by him.  It’s true, women crave his embrace. For me his hugs are like a feeling of all encompassing love, safety, unity.  Interestingly his mother is not a hugger – so this is not something he learnt from his family.  It is just him.

He brings a calm when he walks into a room.  Everything feels so peaceful when he’s around. There is an inaudible sigh of completeness that fills up any space he is in. He makes everything whole.

He has no idea (since  his social life is his main priority) what effect he has on the world around him.  The words spiritual and healing – they are redundant..  He has no interest in these old concepts and would never use these words  – it’s like his brain cannot compute. I think it ‘s because he actually embodies those concepts.  Like breathing is a word but since I breathe automatically  I never think about it.  It’s like that but profoundly deeper.

I found out by googling that he is part of the Omega generation.  He is a clear example of this group. I love the way he is non-judgmental.   So his thought processes are very clear. He knows entirely who he is. He holds the energetic of pure love. Omegas were born between 2002-2008 (some say 1998-2008).

I am Alpha which is the group born  between 1958-1968. They always had the feeling that they were different and didn’t belong. These feelings were always vague and frustratingly constant.

Turns out – now that this kid has come into my life –  that I feel completely part of being here and everything is clear. Clear in the sense that I no longer feel dislocated and discombobulated.  Actually…everything is whole with him in my life. There is a completeness

 

Alpha and Omega – the beginning and the end.

Wholeness.

This is him and his mum beside my beloved Tara. Taken Jan 2018.

Como estas

I’m going to Peru and Argentina in the middle of this year.  This is my celebration 60th birthday bash.  I’ll be at Machu Picchu and the Iguazu Falls with my cousin’s teenage kid who I’m dragging through South America with me.

He’ll either come home telling his mum that he really really hates me now..or we’ll be BFFs for life.  It’s hard to tell which way it’ll go.  I mean, what will I have to do to really annoy him? I can think of quite a few things and they all involve a lot of fun for me…so I’m winning either way.

I have been learning  basic Spanish and loving it.  It isn’t half as hard as Maori, the language of the indigenous people of Aotearoa/New Zealand.  I have been using an American online course called Fluenz which I can highly recommend.  Sonia, the tutor, makes it all as easy as possible. I like the sound of Spanish…it sounds like the tango. The English language could ever produce such a  dance.

I am in the middle of painting a bedroom. The two colours were chosen by my nephew I talked about in the last post.  They are colours I would never ever have chosen.  The woman at the paint shop said “ooohhh, very dramatic, they should turn a few heads”. No-one has ever said that about my paint choices.

I’m writing this post as a way to procrasinate …I’m up to the third light sanding between coats.  A little bit boring.

Thank god for Hotline Bling, Lorde’s Melodrama album and Drake’s Passionfruit.  They’ll  get me through.

This is my gorgeous Tara. Just planted new bromeliads around her.

 

 

 

 

 

Cardi B who

So I’m slipping and sliding through rap music on a daily basis.

This has happened because my nephew, who is 15, spent the summer with me.  He is funny, uber- intelligent, sweet-natured, open-hearted…so when he listened to rap all day long I figured it can’t be that bad!

Some I hated…like Cardi B (who I’m quite partial to now…after the initial shockwave). I immediately loved Drake. French Montana was surprisingly fun. Migos…oh la la

This is the sweet boy who expanded my musical horizons.

Thanks bruh…as in  “get off the internet and get a life bruh!!”

 

Sweet 16

Last year I finally ‘got’ becoming….the heading of this blog.

Becoming me, being me, being free to be me.

Yep, it has taken until now …I am nearly 60.  Holy Shit!!

It was the fact of that…the mortality involved…the frisson of that. The I’m–gonna- die and so what-the-fuck.  Gonna  play life the way I always wanted it to be played.  “Cos I gonna die and I got nothing to lose” (been listening to a lot of rap lately, my favourite poetry at the moment).

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My whole life I have tried to be polite and considerate of everyone.  It seemed the right thing to do. I never really wanted to do the right thing, not just for the sake of keeping everyone happy.  I was not happy.  I was uncomfortable around people when I was a kid and I equally uncomfortable at 40. That’s because  I felt I was on the wrong planet.  Like someone had put me in a taxi and given the driver the wrong address. Where the hell am I?? Why did you drop me off here??

I loved my parents and grandparents and I was entirely comfortable round them and loved by them. I was an only child.  Everyone else  seemed ‘hostile’ though.  Hostile in the sense that I didn’t understand why they did what they did. And I felt afraid.

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I have always had a child-like fascination with everything – this is one of my great qualities.  A friend once referred to me as a ‘perpetual teenager’  – it was meant to be an insult. I said “awwww thanks”.

I’m 52 in this photo…acting like a perpetual teenager.