Red Admiral

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is the last day of summer. Are you as shocked as I am? I can just feel the scores of people who are complaining about it. On my side of things, it was a glorious summer.

As a spoonie, I have several immune disorders. These include Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA), fibromyalgia (fibro), and degenerative disk disease.

I know! Isn’t that ridiculous? Like most, I love summer. Water skiing. Camping. Fishing. Hiking. I miss all of that.  Of course, I can do all those things but it takes planning. A preventative approach to pain control–every four hours without fail.

It exacts a considerable amount of energy from my body and I feel like this poor butterfly looks. I want to toss all challenges and ambitions.  Everything hurts too damned much.

However, when this ragged little guy (a Red Admiral) fell to my balcony, I approached it with care and foreboding.

The last thing I wanted was to do any harm. It looked like it already had a horrific day.

Stop Site C Now!

“I’m going to tell you only one thing: they did not kill my mom, because the assassins who wanted to kill her have screwed themselves, because she is here, because she lives in every one of us! Because as long as we continue fighting against the criminal and killer dam, against the other dams that are coming and installing themselves within the Lenca people, and inside Honduras; the killer mines that poison the water and the environment; the forces that privatize the forest and the air; we are going to keep fighting and my mom Berta Caceras will live there. Berta lives. The struggle continues!“

Laura Caceras stood with her sister, her mother’s namesake, and spoke those words to a crowd in honour of her late mother, Berta, a human rights defender and environmental activist, 2015 winner of the Goldman Environmental Prize, who was assassinated in her home on March 3rd this year, for her work to stop the same kind of bulldozers the BC Premier is trying to send to the Peace River Valley. The place is the Honduras where she and others from Copinh fought against Central America’s biggest hydropower projects–a group of four dams in the Gualcarque river basin, including the Agua Zarca dam. Between 2010 and 2014, one hundred members of the group, were murdered in cold blood. I find this young woman’s words eloquent, driven, and determined. I stand with her, as I do today with Kristin Henry, everyone at the Hunger Site, those protesting at Site C in the Peace River Valley, and every human rights and environmental activist around the world.

PTSD and 2015

Regions of the brain affected by PTSD and stress.

Regions of the brain affected by PTSD and stress. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Happy Thursday. I hope you all are having a fine day. Mine is feeling positive right now, especially as I settle in to chat with you and to breathe new life into these pages.

I’ve been ill for over a year now and this account and my blog fell by the wayside. I don’t share much about it while in the throes of uncertainty. Long periods of time can go by before I feel the ability to reach out to continue my work on and off-line.

However, today I acknowledge that I have experienced my post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) symptoms to the highest degree. These include panic attacks, depression, insomnia, isolation, estrangement,  an inability to concentrate, and introversion. These issues have been huge obstacles for me problems since I was about six or seven. I handle it but privately struggle with its impact every day of my life.

For years, I worried about sharing myself through writing. I don’t want to add negativity and despair to the world, and fight that with everything in me. I would be devastated to learn that a vulnerable person happened across something I wrote and felt worse because of it. That kind of responsibility is scary but all I want is to share with others, teach, and, if possible, to inspire.

I worry too much, don’t you think?

Happy New Year!

Janet A. Kauppinen January 2016Isn’t it incredible to start a fresh new year? Yes, it’s 2016.

Sometimes I find it hard to comprehend that. I mean, it is like being rewarded with a squeaky clean new life. It is not like those little folks whose first glimpse of earth fell on the 2016 side of the line, our future not past, only to win prizes and money sometimes.  However, it is a revered gift just the same.  With that, I celebrate a renewed effort, bursting with promise and hope.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bookmark_Terry’s Monday Motivational

 

Happy Monday. Today I am going to motivate each one of you, no matter where you live in the world.

Of course, no one sleeping in the dead of night will hear it. People who are out for dinner will devour their meal—unless their companion’s choice is so tantalizing, it sets off in them an olfactory rave. If midway through their work day, I hate to say, workers are already too far gone and in a synaptic free fall.

Yes. I have issued a break to all those people. You, my friend, are not so lucky.

Oh, wait. I am. My circadian rhythms have been off for weeks now. I fit into every group. In effect, I live in every time zone.

Time for tea, reading, food, a bath, and writing in the #SeptWritingChallenge. Perhaps I’ll recite poetry under neon lights while fishing. Anything is possible.

Until then, if you need a goal, inspire others.