The Cosmic Dancer

 

Child. Listen to me. Open up your heart for a moment and listen. You don’t need to banish your anger or bury your grief and sadness. The fact that you may feel anger about some injustice or inequity; the fact that you have the capacity to feel grief and sadness means that life still touches you.

Learn to trust the wisdom-river flowing beneath the river of these emotions. Learn to walk with your depression, your anxiety, your anger as a teacher and a friend. The fact that you feel means that you care. The thing you really have to watch out for is indifference. The ones who don’t feel anything are the ones who are destroying the world.

~ doña Río de Gracian

Why I Said NO To the C19 Jaberoonie

 

I said no because my experiences with pharmaceuticals was not positive.

I said no because the Doctor who convinced me to take the pharmaceuticals did so by telling me about hollywood stars who also took them.

I said no because he said keep taking them, they'll work eventually.

I said no because eventually never came but still I was directed to continue taking them.

I said no because when, years later I decided to stop taking them, I experienced insane brain zaps n' zingers of withdrawal.

I said no because my family Doctor pushed meds on me that addicted me and made it incredibly difficult to stop taking them once dependency built.

I said no because none of this was for my good.

I said no because I researched and they too had insanely ineffective studies done on them.

I said no because after oh so many scripts and cocktails of pills they said would turn my frown upside down, none did.

I said no because over and over and over again I've found that the plants, herbs, and flowers that our Doctors tell us don't have medicinal value are really all I ever needed --- now or then.

I say no now, because I see clearly what this is and what this was.

I say no now, because I KNEW THIS WAS COMING as so many of us did.

I say no because I choose me over familial objections, over societal marginalization, over ostracization, over lack of anything.

I say no more.

I decide how I treat the ills my body experiences.

No more need be said.

Palliative Pet Care Using Cannabis~ My Experience

It was gearing up to be a very busy work week for me with my eager anticipation of reaching forty hours.  On day two of five I came home to find that my old kitty India had soiled herself yet was sleeping soundly.

I wasn’t terribly surprised – at nineteen years that body was tired and worn out.  She had various dishes of sardines, red sockeye salmon, and cat milk that went untouched.  I knew that she hadn’t eaten all day, other than her daily medicine that I squirt inside her mouth ever so quickly and delicately.

This medicine is in oil form, so it has a good deal of calories.  It keeps her pain and stiffness away and is a big reason why my girl lived to be nineteen years young.

It was clear to me that India’s end of life was near so I decided to take the rest of the week off to be with my last pack member while she passed over.  We’ve been together for the last half of my life.  I adopted her from a neighboring farmer when I moved away from home.

Every adult memory I have includes this orange kitty, each one seared in my memory and they bubble up more and more as these last days have passed.  So many good and funny memories.  So many lessons learned … yes, lessons from a cat!

Yesterday I felt obligated to make the decision to take India in to a veterinarian and have her put to sleep.  She didn’t really have a doctor, nor has she had one for the last ten years.  It’s my opinion that my girl lived this long because her little body wasn’t ravaged by toxic chemicals on a yearly basis.  But that’s a whole other blog.

The temperature outside was below freezing, as would the cold metal table feel if I had taken her in to be euthanized.  I was torn, to say the least.  So my honey must have sensed this and said, “I think you should keep her here with you as long as you can.  She’s happiest with you.”

The weight of the world was suddenly lifted from my shoulders.  And so the decision was made.  We were going to treat my dying kitty to palliative care using cannabis at home, free to roam and finally pass over wherever and whenever she desired.

India hadn’t eaten in almost five days other than her regular medicine, a light tasting olive oil infused with dried cannabis of various strains.  She’d been on the herbal for almost two years now, and it not only made a world of difference in her mobility, but it definitely gave her the munchies, and she would go from the knee-less robot walk to walking with a slight limp.

Cannabinoid therapy lasts in the body for a very long time, so at first she only required a squirt of 1 to 2 ml’s depending on strength, every few days.  It was only in the past four months or so that she’d been getting it every day.  At first it was a fight and a challenge, but I swear she eventually allowed me to squirt it in, knowing it would bring relief.

I have quite a lot of experience with pet deaths and pet euthanization.  The first was at age sixteen with my first love Rusty, a stunning mixed breed pony.  Suffice it to say that between childhood family pets, and my own pets and their offspring, I know when it’s time to take drastic measures.

In an aged animal, the death process begins the first day they quit eating.   Day one, two, three saw India sit and stare at the water bowl occasionally bowing her head but never actually drinking.  I periodically squirted broth, cat milk, and tuna water in her mouth, but she just shook her head and moped away.

Lo and behold, it seems that the portal to the afterlife was the bath tub.  A frantic early morning search ended with us finding India in the tub with the curtain closed.   It was in here that we had our moment on day three where I held her chest firmly in my hand and rubbed the back of her head, kissing it over and over.  She always loved that sound.  No energy to eat, and yet energy to purr.  Faintly in her chest I felt it.  A sign that I was doing the right thing by letting her choose.

Every eight hours I squirted her canna-medicine into her mouth.  We hot-boxed the shower twice that night … both of us sitting in it with candles lit.   It wasn’t until later that night that I remembered the little capsule of black stuff I had made months ago from the crystallized trichomes trapped in our grinder:  Rick Simpson Oil … of one form or another. I was saving this for someone.  Now I knew who.

I began dissolving this in the oil and the relief was evident very soon.   She was completely sedated, yet when I sponge bathed her mouth and face with warm water she woke right up and clearly enjoyed it.

This stuff is medicine.  Because of this plant, I was able to ease my last pack member into the afterlife painlessly and at her own speed.  This doesn’t occur with pharmaceutical pet meds.  Cats are highly sensitive to dosing that oftentimes wreaks havoc on other organs.  Metac*m, for example, is very damaging to the kidneys.  My girl played a short but brisk game of floor hockey about a week before she passed, so we know the herbal wasn’t damaging her fragile little body.

The author with India’s bestie

On the night of day four we forgot to keep the bedroom door closed and she made her way under our bed.  It was her spot.  She slept there with my honey and I and her bestie, our Boston Terrier, sleeping above her on the bed.  Eight hours later she had managed to turn her old body around and roll over. I carefully carried her out to one of the many pillows and blanket piles on the floor so she could soak in some sun, carefully lying her on the other side.

Lying still makes the body sore, so after about every hour or two of sleep, I rolled her over and gave her a body rub.  Such a good kitty.  It would soon be time for more medicine.  This time once again, I mixed it with the RSO for an extra boost of sedation and pain killing.

I now know what my mother meant when she told me so long ago that it was a blessing when her own mother finally passed.  My girl slept with her eyes open.  And when I closed them, they’d slowly open again.  She wasn’t in pain, but she wasn’t really there anymore either.  She smelled of infection.  The death-smell.  I noticed that she was swallowing a bit, so I thought it would be a good time for more cannabis oil.  Her little jaw was almost seized at this point, but I managed to squirt it in through a gap in her teeth.  She very quickly swallowed this down, now knowing very well what it did.

A little over an hour later she suddenly jerked and squirmed a bit.  Up until then, she was sleeping peacefully on a big pillow covered with a fuzzy blanket.  Something inside me knew.  I went over and just enveloped her with my arms.  She hated being picked up so I left her lying on the pillow — respect means nothing if not given in death.  She sort of stretched a few times and gasped.  I cooed to her and told her she was such a good kitty.

How many times did I kiss her head trying to sear it into my memory?  Her fur still smelled like her kitty-ness mixed with the herbal cannabis smell, and it was still as soft as ever.  She gasped quietly two more times and then she lay still.  I kept feeling for a heartbeat but if it was there, I couldn’t feel it.

I lit a candle and sat down in front of her little body to pray that the Goddess take her home.  I whispered the names of her favorite pack members — there truly were just far too many to mention all of them from the past nineteen years.  I smudged around and over her with a bundle of sage then one last time, I kissed and smelled her head, telling her she was such a good kitty.

“All ends, new beginnings” is a verse from a popular pop song;  I feel this so strongly now.  My furry sister’s ashes will return to me in a cedar box inscribed with her name on top:  India.  Cedar seemed right and fitting for a barn cat turned city, orange Tigress.  But her energy is now returned to its source where she’ll see all of our pack- even the ones she loathed, like that dang lab Magic.

I know I am lucky to have been able to spend my kitty’s last days with her.  Not everyone can.  But as long as pain can be controlled then I believe that death in its own time is a beautiful thing.  I feel blessed to have witnessed her passing.

I expect judgement from some regarding this decision.  Some will say that I was a complacent pet owner or that I have no right taking the position of doctor when it concerns another living thing.  There are still those out there who will think I’m a complete loon to use an untested plant instead of a proven sterile pre-packaged and commercialized drug from the vet.

To those of you, I tell you this:  the natural breakdown and inevitable death of my kitty’s body is the exact same process we allow our fellow humans to go through when dying.  Dare you say this was the inhumane way to let her die?  Ironic at best.  We sedate our fellow humans and we kill their pain, as I have done with Cannabis infused olive oil, and we wait until death takes them.

Think about that.  And let your heart direct you.  In Canada, the Government is opening up debate once again to legalize “medically-assisted suicide.”  Imagine being able to say goodbye while they’re still coherent.  Death on their own terms … because respect is nothing if not in death.

RIP India … you’re such a good kitty.

The Magical Boveda Pack

 ***I wrote this article for Roottie.com who paid me 5 cents per word.  The article has been republished without giving me proper (or any) credit.  In addition, I'm unable to find the piece online at all anymore so here it is.  A week or so after it was published, this article was seen by the VP of Marketing of the company I now work with.

It happened a few months after I became a legal Cannabis patient that I noticed these little brown packets in my orders.  They came in their own little plastic baggy that I briefly looked closely through once and then tossed aside for months.  Now, I’m over-run by Boveda packs.  If only they were currency!

So I decided to ask a few of my fellow Cannabis ingesting co-workers what they thought of those packs.  They very quickly informed me that I’d been missing out by tossing them aside.  Missing out on what?  

To be honest, when I first looked at the packet it was clearly labeled as to what they are for. But I’m pretty sure I remember muttering something to myself like, “ya suuuure … take this little packet of goo and put it in with your medicine.  AS IF.”  I’m pretty sure I heard my old friend Boots laughing at the gullibility of today’s Potheads!  He’d also say, “If you need a packet of slime to keep your stash fresh, then you’re not smoking it fast enough!”.  RIP buddy!

Yet at the urging of my wise co-workers, I began using my Boveda packs.  Thanks guys!

Boveda packs regulate the relative humidity of your Cannabis and are marketed as the global leader in two-way humidity control.  A solution of natural salts and pure water inside a reverse-osmosis membrane keeps your herbal medicine at exactly the right humidity level.  They offer a choice of 58% or 62% and I hear it’s personal preference that decides.  

Why does relative humidity matter when it comes to your Cannabis?  Microorganisms grow so quickly that within a day of keeping damp buds in a closed jar can result in mold.  Or worse, mold you can’t even see yet.  Conversely, if your bud is so dry you can’t roll it properly, then that’s a problem too.  But if you nestle a Boveda pack or two in with your precious nugs, that salt water solution will pull in moisture to keep mold at bay, and exude pure moisture to stabilize the dryest bud.

The thing about this medicine of ours is that it’s organic--well usually--and being organic makes it not only perishable if left unprotected but it’s also someone’s dinner if left out long enough.  Microorganisms are everywhere and the more ways we can keep them controlled and balanced, the better for everyone.

So, don’t let your nugs get lonely peeps … let Boveda keep them company.

It's Illegal to Charge Extra For A/C Usage in Ontario But ...

 

My superintendent is out checking who has a/c units installed.

She doesn't know it's illegal to charge extra fees.

So, what happens next?

Will another form be placed on our doors?

You see in Ontario, the LL can't charge extra for a/c usage UNLESS it's in the lease or they've discussed it with you & you agree.

They put the "How do you want to pay?" form on all of our doors thinking THAT'S a discussion.  

The sad part is mentioned above, the Super has no idea she's doing anything illegal & this is how it's done.

I've already discussed the subsidized unit on the first floor that's been empty almost 4 years now.  When I urged her not to turn up the heat which would stop the fire alarm from beeping, she said:

"I am just one person.  I cannot do anything about that."

If she did, she'd be shown the door & for supers, that means you get 48 hours to leave the unit you live in as part of your remuneration.

Oh ... this is the shortest & curliest that they have them by.

And it just might be that the Rental Industry has the least oversight of all.  This is because of cronyism & the fact that our politicians & their elite-minded families on all levels have lined their pockets in the Rental industry.  

For relevance, the Gerretsens have always had rentals in the Queen's area & some of those rentals are the slummiest in the city. Both Dad and son were/are in Politics representing the very people they're ripping off to this day with GP Properties .

Nepotism in Politics should be banned.

Oh well, it doesn't really affect me.  I wish this fact meant more.  I'm still enraged at my neighbors paying $170 more each season than they legally have to.

Ontario ... a place to grow ... if you're a corrupt politician otherwise known as a politician.

So is NESARA For Real?

 

NESARA or National Economic Stabilization and Recovery Act was signed into law on October 10th 2010 by President Bill Clinton.

I don't know a lot about it but I found the unsigned document in pdf here.

Woo Woo Warning:  Some say that Clinton was influenced by benevolent extra-terrestrials.

In fact, these et's are part of what's known as the Galactic Federation of Planets. This is a first for many of you yet at the beginning of the pumpernickel, this article titled "Former Israeli space security chief says extraterrestrials exist, and Trump knows about it." was published on mainstream media. 

The future is so bright we need to wear shades!

This is a place holder for the pdf and I'll be adding/editing as more info is received.  Feel free to comment and share any info you have on NESARA GESARA (Global Economic Stabilization and Recovery Act)

Those of LL Research Speak to Qu'o About Higher Rates of Feeling Inadequate Among Wanderers

 

Gary

Q’uo, the final question from the circle asks: “Is there a higher rate of feeling personally inadequate among wanderers as compared to the general population, and if so, why would that be? How could such catalyst be employed to more deeply know the heart of self?

New Speaker (person who is 'channelling')

Q’uo

I am Q’uo and am aware of your query, my brother. Yes, my friend, the wanderer has far more likelihood of being affected by feelings of unworthiness than the regular, shall we say, or general consensus population, because within the wanderer, whether or not it is consciously known, resides the knowledge of the harmony of the home density, of the love and the light, which is the normal way of being for the wanderer whence it came. The wanderer, especially if it is unconscious of being a wanderer—but also if it is conscious—has this knowledge with which to compare the experience it is now having within this third-density planet, at this time, where confusion and chaos reign supreme.

The consensus reality has far different means of feeling of what is valued to the seeker or to any entity upon the planet, for that which is of the mundane world is that which is held as the goal: the education, the job, the money, the status, the power. These are things which can be used positively, but most frequently are not upon this planetary sphere. Thus, the wanderer compares itself to those who hold this value system, and sees itself falling short, and especially if it is unconscious of its condition as a wanderer and does not know that there is another way of being that is in unity with all other entities and with the One Infinite Creation and Creator. Then, this wanderer shall again use this system of judgment within the consensus reality to place upon itself the harsh judgment, feeling that it is not worthy of its own esteem, because it is not worth of the esteem of those about it within the consensus reality.

Thus, such a wanderer will eventually have opportunities to realize its nature as a wanderer, and the falseness of the world around it, when considered in comparison to the unity of the One Infinite Creation in the density whence the wanderer originated.

Thus, at some point each wanderer will have the opportunity of making this realization that it is not better than anyone else, but it is different from those about it. [It] will see in this difference the possibility of worthiness: that there is much to value in love and in light, the foundation stone of each wanderer. Each wanderer may then look upon itself in a far different light, opening the heart to the self, loving the self, then being able to extend that love to others about it so that it is reflected back to the wanderer. As the love and the light of the One Infinite Creator begins to flow more and more through the wanderer’s heart, reaching that level of understanding, shall we say, that is possible within this third-density illusion, [the wanderer begins to realize] that it is one most worthy, or it would not be here serving this planet that so desperate needs the love and light of each wanderer upon it, for this planet is having great difficulty in becoming born into the fourth density of love and understanding.

Each wanderer is well aware of this problem, and seeks to give all that it has in the amelioration of the difficulty, of the chaos, of the hatred, of the separation, the division that exists among peoples of one kind or another, one color or another, one religion or another, one sense of self or another. The wanderer is here to help all realize that all are one, and the wanderer itself is an integral part of that oneness, of that unity.

Then, with this knowledge firmly established within the mind, the body and the spirit of the wanderer, the wanderer may go forth in love and in light, in peace and in power, and in the knowledge that it has that which is valuable to offer, for it is a valuable being. It is the One Infinite Creator.