The table is set perfectly. Mom has taken her best china and silver from the hutch, and used the best paper napkins she could find but only because they have the cutest turkeys printed on them and they’re festive. They match the paper tablecloth, too. Aromas rise from the food, mixing to an orchestral crescendo … Continue reading An Unintended Passenger
There is this mural down near the park with the slip of beach next to the boat launch that depicts the history of Victoria Harbour and the surrounding region. From what I understand, it’s only about a year old and is part of a larger project to celebrate Canada’s 150th that also included one each … Continue reading The ‘Harbour
We went for another walk this morning, a few hours after our first one because he was getting a bit antsy. He’d done his little half-squat spinny dance shortly after 5am, but a noise distracted him and that was it, it wasn’t going to happen, so when he began to shift awkwardly and stare longingly … Continue reading The Inugami Mochi
I am a simple, flawed human, and part of the open sharing meant to nurture my own self-awareness that I started this thing to help with, is to look myself square in the mirror and admit that sometimes I have some really bad bed-head.
To shed that particular brand of fear and shame, more easily done than you might think, has allowed me to work more diligently on the deep-seated ones, to use the limited energies I have on more positive things.
How can we explain the physical and emotional damage one person can do to another let alone to an entire people as we’ve done in our past as a species, and then still fit it into this framework of a preset nature imprinted into our genes?
Once, in a group session, I made the distinction between a nightmare and a bad dream. The psychologist really appreciated that, because they are fairly different. I thought I might look a bit closer at how, and maybe add this new one to the mix while I’m at it.
Had the person I was been deleted and written over by this callous, often angry man, who hid in his house drinking too much when not wearing a uniform and being an asshole to the world at large?
Nobody will ever be able to understand the specific stories you tell like you can, not even me, because none of us has seen it through your eyes, but those of us who’ve felt the same fear, the same moral injuries, or the same sudden losses and threats to our own mortality like you have don’t need to.
There are two foodbanks the city I live in that I make use of, one at a Catholic church that requires you live in the parish, another run by the city, and both limit your visits to once every 60 days.