Posts Tagged ‘Canada’

Compassion

 

 

He is only two.. he died in his father’s arms along with his four year old little brother.. his mother died in the Turkish sea with her son’s. This little toddler’s name was Aylan Kurdi.. they wanted to be Canadians.. they wanted to be safe.. they wanted a safe and happy home.. just like every human being wants.. just like we all deserve. The question is can you allow yourself to feel the sorrow that you should be feeling as another human being for this tiny little one..for his brother, mother and father? Can you see him not just as your child, or as your loved one..but can you see and allow yourself to feel the sorrow and the anger at world powers that allow a child to die like this..? while doing nothing! I am so angry at my Canadian government for not allowing this poor family entrance into my peaceful country.. where this child and his brother would of had a chance of growing into men.. who could of lived to the fullness of their lives.. When is the world going to step up and stop the suffering of the Syrian people and other migrant families from other countries? What is happening to humanity.. that we have so much.. there are so many who have so much more than others.. yet we hoard.. and we brag.. and then to make ourselves exempt; or to excuse ourselves from the suffering of others.. we blame them for causing their own suffering.. so that we can give ourselves permission not to feel.. ?

Even in spiritual circles.. there is spiritual snobbery ..were they believe other’s manifest their own suffering.. that is just another excuse to be selfish.. Oooooh! We are so selfish.. we want fame and fortune..and huge amounts of wealth.. we don’t want to share what we have.. this planet doesn’t have actual borders.. human beings create them.. we create separation out of greed ..greed that is caused by fear of lack.. greed that is caused by ignorance.. greed that is caused by pure selfishness..!

And so children and families die.. they die horrible deaths just trying to be free… just wanting their basic human rights to be met.. just wanting dignity! DIGNITY! If you are not outraged .. if you are not deeply saddened by this.. you have lost your soul.. you are more dead than this child is.. you are the walking dead.. a zombie.. and that I suppose is the deep root of the weed that strangles the heart of humanity.. that so many are the dead walking.. their hearts are frozen.. they are brutally numbed down.. dead and soulless.. so if this doesn’t make you cry..if this doesn’t make you weep..if this doesn’t raise up a deep scream for justice, deep inside your heart and soul.. you are not really alive at all.

Because I am Canadian

 

Because I am Canadian I was born free. In this post I am going to concentrate on all the wonderful things about being born a Canadian or being Canadian. I am very blessed that in this lifetime my stars brought me here, to this place and into this time. I believe we all originate as stardust and that we are the energy of the Universe concentrated into human life forms. I have a purpose in this lifetime and I have had a purpose in all my past lifetimes.. in this life time I was born a Canadian to practice the freedoms given to Canadians. I am an artist; and by being an artist it is my souls calling to help liberate humanity. I help to liberate other women by speaking out through my book, blog, and website.. through all my online profiles.. through all my creativity to help liberate other women in other countries that don’t have the freedoms of speech and artistic expression that I do as an artist living in Canada..and as a person or woman born onto Canadian soil.. and for that Canada.. I am eternally grateful for.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As a Canadian I feel my solidarity for my country deep within my soul; within the very fibers of my flesh..within every passionate beat of my heart… Canada I love you so much.. I love the land.. I love the majority of the peace-lovers of Canada.. I love the diversity within our country and the spirit of the Canadian people for wide open spaces.. for big sky.. big mountains..big lakes .. for the love of our fresh air experiences. The maples speak to me; they whisper of native lore and traditions ..of spirits that cannot be seen only felt and dreamed of. The sound of the rain on the spring maples.. the whisper of the leaves as they fall.. to the changing seasons of the romance and the brutality of Canadian winters… Canada you are in me..I love you.

I think it is the Canadian wilderness; that speaks of adventure.. it gives one the longing to be as the wind.. to be swept away by the rugged landscape.. to want to walk for miles and miles and miles.

Even when I was a little girl I would disappear into the land.. I would become one with the nature of Canada.. I would ride my horse bareback .. nothing but a backpack ..and just loose myself in the wind.. in the water of the lakes..in the reeds.. my horse and I would travel.. no destination .. no expectations, except to taken in by the sound of loons.. the sound of sweet sadness.. of lovers calling out while the crickets chirped their own melody.. and the frogs sang along.. the fish jumping.. making silver liquid ripples.. to dance an ancient dance.. my hair the color of wheat.. my horses mane entwined with my mane.. as I lay back on her back.. to smell her scent of sweet hay and oats, her warmth and strength and.. nothing but Canada.. because I am Canadian ..

And then I as rode back home my grandfather would meet me at the creek along the road.. he would be tickling trout ..and he would wave to me silently to dismount.. quietly I would wade in beside him.. and watch as the fish fell asleep in his hand as he stroked their underbellies in the sun kissed, pure water.. He would flip then out.. onto the banks ..it was my job to scramble and get them alive into the bucket, so we could take them home fresh for Nana to cook.. Then Gramps would play the spoons.. and in his Newfie accent he would demand ” Gracie give us a jig !” I would do my best..as he laughed and sang ” Barney Goggle.. with the gooo gooo googly eyes.. Barney Goggle with the goo gooo googly eyes.. now he is sleeping with his horse and his wife is suing for divorce.. Barney Goggle with the goo goo googly eyes! ”

He would talk about farming ..and the lighthouse he owned in his youth..and talk about his favorite horse and their adventures.. and my Nana would sass him.. and the loon’s sad melody would sing us all to sleep..and the wolves howled in reply so very bitter sweet…

This Canadian Woman’s.. opinion of Hockey

When I was a young girl; I was a tomboy, I loved playing street hockey with the boys. Left defense was my position of choice..but if right wasn’t doing it like they should; I would make up for the other player. I was very competitive, I could take hits and give them.. I earned the nick name ” Slasher ” it still makes me laugh. Now that I am all grown up; I am a very athletic and fit woman; even being in my 40s, having had three children; I could still slash and check now. I love training and sports. But I hate the macho bullshit that goes with sports. All the money that gets funneled into a game; a game that is primarily owned and made into a monopoly by rich greedy men. I know from experience that it promotes a sense of entitlement and sexism to men, that trickles into homes and marriages.. this is the experience I had with my now ex husband.

I found that hockey could be used as an excuse by my husband as the reason not to have to be present with his family; my ex also used work and golf for the exact same reasons. Using work as an excuse not to parent or spend time with me, was a way to take the high road for as master manipulation; after all, how do you fault a man for wanting to supply for his family? Hockey, and or other organized sports were his reward for all of his hard work outside of the home; you see I was being taught in a very sexist way, that he was entitled to his entitlement; that my work in the home or outside of the home wasn’t as important as his. I was being told by my husband and by society that if I was a good woman; I would be submissive, I should, we all should , just handle the kids, the home and our own feelings of loneliness.. to martyr our own happiness.. for the sake of his.

I wonder how many other women fake liking hockey to make their men happy? I wonder how many women fake being cool with it when they are seething inside because he puts a game ahead of his wife and kids..? I bet it’s like faking an orgasm; because she cannot reach those peaks of pleasure; because he is there only physically but not emotionally. How many women are listening to the hockey game playing in the background having their man right next to them..but feeling a total disconnect; lack of companionship.. being not alone but feeling totally alone?

I cannot count the number of dinners I made for him that he didn’t even taste; how many times our then young children did something cute, monumental or amazing.. when he was right there in the house, that he didn’t even see. How many women have cooked the dinner; put the kids to bed, washed the dishes.. and fell asleep while he tuned out watching hockey? How many women self pleasured.. because he was downstairs .. in an entire different dimension ( hockey land ) while he should of been making love to her?

How many hockey pools could she gamble on better then him; just by knowing the names of the top players because the hockey announcers voices playing in the back ground drilled the into her subconscious so completely, that she can recite them in her sleep?

I wonder how many women I am writing this for? How many women want to yell this into their man’s faces? How many women stuff this down every hockey season..or for every season his next favorite sport plays? How man women feel shut out; that are shut out for a stupid fucking game; a game that over pays players, and that promotes sexual inequality by the over pay and over promotion of male sports over female sports? How many fathers are teaching their sons to treat their wives like emotional baggage  when the game comes on? How man fathers are teaching their daughters that a sport means more to them, then family ..then love? But at the same time ..it’s up to us as women to speak up; to not stuff it down, to tell him our true feelings.

But to cover all bases ( pun intended ) some women really do love the game as much as their husbands.. if so this post isn’t for you.. move on, carry on.

Now fast-forward to my life today; as a divorced, single mom.. the play-offs are playing at his place but not at mine. My weekend with the kids; we watched a movie, made old fashioned popcorn, on the stove, in a pot..and spent family time together.. there isn’t any hockey here..and I am so grateful now that the marriage is over.. I will never be put behind a game; work, or any other interest when I meet  another. I will speak up right away..and if my needs are not met for equality.. I will walk away..

Tonight my ex is watching hockey with the woman he had an affair with.. and that’s just karma.. because now he is ignoring her.

 

If George Stroumboulopoulos was my boyfriend

 

This is of course, hypothetical .. George isn’t going to be my boyfriend.. most guys with ordinary lives who are not celebs don’t want to be my boyfriend once they find out about my book and website because they see me and this as socially unacceptable; many guys that find out about what I do look at me like a wild cat through the scope of gun.. ” I have you on target you crazy, reputation destroying wild bitch.. stay the fuck back” those are the looks I get.. or look like ” She so pretty and cute.. she seemed so nice and normal..then I found out what she does..she is nuts!”

But looking at my life through  rosy colored glasses is so much sweeter.. kinder and loving. So if George was my George what would my life look like?

{My city, my country and the world would see me with relevance and awe.. they would say ” She is really talented, what a great writer, she is brave and beautiful ..she is special and that’s why George loves her.” Everyone that rejected me in my community would be so sorry.. oh how sorry they would be ..because George would bring me to the world stage to tell my stories of struggle of the underdog.. I would tell on them all.. I would tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth..the truth is like a lion.. it would be frightening and bold.. raw and brutal..but it would simply be the truth.. yes they would be so sorry.

They would be sorry for their prejudice and sorry that they couldn’t take it all back.. and it would be my story and my strength their weaknesses.. George of course would say to me ” Gracie be the bigger person and forgive them, let them in now that they have been made aware of their wrong doings.” because George is all about enlightenment and peace..

He would save the day.. because of him he would help save the world by giving me a media platform to unleash my message of women’s equality through the freedom of their sexuality..and all the world would be in wonder of the perfect love story..and of the Knight in Shinning Armour that really came through for The Damsel in Distress..

The media would love it.. even the American media would fall in love with Gracie and George.. fall in love with love and justice. We would travel the world empowering women with the message. George through empowering women through music and me through writing, painting, dancing and other forms of expression.. }

So that is a nice fantasy isn’t it.. ?

It is sad to say that still in this day and age a woman like myself doing something totally different, bold and brave.. breaking glass ceilings.. smashing dogma.. just doesn’t stand a chance in today’s world without male approval or some form of male protection..

I am seen, instead as a lazy, single mother/artist wanna be slutty whore.. “Putting it out there” for male attention and just to feed my own ego by expressing my sexuality .. instead of as a woman bravely burning a new path for other women and society..

Because I am all alone in this.

I just switch into the fantasies to help me cope with the hard cold realities.

And now my haters will put a spin on this that I am an obsessive, crazy bitch for writing this.. isn’t that just crazy?

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