We're currently a month away from the expiry date whereby all Canadians who are legally entitled to grow and/or use the medicinal Cannabis plant are to cease production, destroy all product, and fork out mucho dough to someone in a white coat who can apparently grow it better, safer, cleaner.....pffft. Just as an aside, NO commercial grower can grow Tomatoes, Cukes, Beans, or Squash better than my own gardening genius parents can in their fertile garden, so I personally think that's crap. But .. we live in a world where money trumps all and they've all but found a way to profit off of this plant .... the very plant they were demonizing just a week before. The very same plant that has put thousands of us in jail. The very same plant that would see me get a mandatory minimum sentence of one year if I were to grow one in my tenement~ more than a child molester I'll add.
Now, do you remember when the changes first came out about this many months ago? You would have thought they had found the magic bean that would grow us up to heaven! Profits were estimated. Total numbers of potential 'customers' piled up giving the conservative capitalist piglets semi's and dreams of sugar-plum fairies dropping loads of cash in their laps. It's ALMOST like they forgot for a moment that it's the REEFER we're talkin' about!!
So ... it would seem that simply because PROFITS are in the future, this plant is not so bad after all? Huh. Funny how that works, eh?
A friend of mine has Hypothyroid and Fibromyalgia. I was going to attempt to put into words what this feels like. But fuck it! The only thing that matters is that this friend has found something that helps her with these ailments without side effects, without a hangover, without addiction. Until they mandate we all be micro-chipped~and don't laugh too hard at that~ that body is still HER BODY. And in my opinion and the opinion of millions upon millions of us, she deserves the right to choose how to treat said body! This same friend has children though and as too many of us know, Children's Aid societies on both sides of the border are still demonizing this plant and taking children away from even LEGAL cannabis patients. This is almost more funny at times than it is infuriating to me, since you can have bottles of M&M or Smartie-looking Oxycontin pills in your house and no Children's Aid society worker will question you about that. This is funny to me because Cannabis looks to a kid like dried grass, moss, or even potpourri; Hillbilly heroin looks like candy. I think the purple-y pink coating might even be sweet.
When the blatancy of the logic is at this level of blindness, no stinking acronym is gonna cut it ....
WHAT THE FUCK?
Now, back to my friend. She wants to be a legal Cannabis patient. I think she only allows herself to use Cannabis now when her chicklets are away from home, or perhaps in extreme times of agony. But the fear of losing said Chicklets is a total buzz-kill to say the least. She likely feels the relief in her stiff, sore, tired muscles and then feels the stress of the ever-possible "what-if". So in an attempt to move towards that responsible, law-abiding, and rule-following program, she asked her Doctor about applying for approval with the Medical Marijuana Access Program (MMAR) .... soon to be the Marijuana for Medical Purposes Regulations (MMPR). In my opinion it should be the Program Whereby Canada Sells Out It's Citizens For Profit (PWCSOICFR) ... but y'know acronyms and brand-ability. It's gotta be catchy to be remembered!
So here's the seed for this blog post. Here's what sparked a fire in my gut this morning. My friend's Medical Doctor's response to her inquiry into becoming legal was this, "Google Dr. So-and-So and he'll sign for you and fill out the forms for $250."... tax receipt not included I'm sure. This is CANADA!! We have single-payer healthcare!!! And though we ALL fear that it may soon end, it hasn't ended yet has it? If she were to go to a Psychiatrist, Psychologist, Oncologist, or any other "ist" out there, would she have to pay??? Yes the forms are lengthy, but it's not like Doctors have such legible handwriting that she couldn't fill them out herself before the visit!
It saddens me to say this, but Canada already has a somewhat hidden two-tiered healthcare system. This friend of mine, who grew up healthy, trim, and active quite suddenly became wracked with body-pain and fatigue shortly after her son was born. Now each day is a struggle. You think you know stiffness? You don't have a clue. And yes there are pharmaceuticals out there. We've all seen the commercials for those pills~ as if advertising for MEDICINE is ethical! Doctors hate it when we self-diagnose, but self-prescribing is fine when profit is involved? That's the message isn't it? Well get this ... it cost my friend $300 to see the Doctor she has now! And NO! She didn't get a tax receipt.
Its a domino effect of capitalistic piglets using sick, tired, and desperate-for-relief people just like you and me. Who has an extra $300 for anything?? And why should we have to pay to get permission to use a plant that Doctors haven't been trained on? Trained ... it hasn't really even been studied by Governmental agencies. Seriously, I and likely 80% of my over 600 facebook friends know more than YOUR doctor knows about this plant. And yet we need their permission to use it.
Huh. See why I get so pissed about this? Not everything should be a profitable business.
Thursday, 27 February 2014
Tuesday, 25 February 2014
Geometry and the fight for Freedom of a Plant
This fight for Legalization, Decriminalization, Repeal of Prohibition ... man so many sides. From the macro view, one would think we all want the same thing eh?
But if this 'fight' were Geometry, how many sides would this "Polyhedra" have? And are they all so different? Don't we all want the same thing?
Infighting abounds ... ignore it if you can.
Ego, Greed, Narcissism, Recognition, Pursuit of Profit, Dreams of Big Money, Dreams of Adoration ... maybe these are the sides of this Polythedra?
If so ... SHAME ON US.
Cannabis is a plant that has been here since the days we crawled out of the sea. We burned it, boiled it, or dried it. And it gave relief to our ills ... gave rest to the weary ... took pain from those suffering. Was it this early introduction that gave our human bodies these Cannabinoid receptors? You and I have them and they only fire when this plant is ingested. Receptors exist in several organs, bone marrow, brain, gut ... come on people, this plant was meant to be used by Homo-sapiens!!
In researching my above statement on receptors existing in bone marrow, I came across a study that concludes that certain cannabinoids have beneficial effects on even our bone mass! Our moms could be eating a special brownie instead of those huge horse pills that end up making bones more brittle and easily fractured! But alas ... those pills are so nice and white and sterile. Surely they must be good. NOT.
What if we are doing it all wrong? We keep white-washing everything. We keep sterilizing all the treatments. Yet .... our bodies aren't sterile! We keep moving further and further away from that which we came from, we keep taking what Goddess gives us and reverse-engineering it. What the heck? Soon they will modify fruit to no longer have vitamins ... they're already screwing with the Grapefruit because it naturally contraindicates several of big pharma's antidepressant meds! I know this, because I gave them up for the oh-so-many gd years that I swallowed those poisons!
The Sun, Moon, and Earth needs no sterilization. She gives what we need. Your chemical "modern-day" medicines have only been around for a little over a hundred years. There's room for both!
Medicine equals Profit these days. Unless you have a heart the works properly.
Then Medicine = Compassion and Life and Thriving to BE.
This plant helps us BE better.
But if this 'fight' were Geometry, how many sides would this "Polyhedra" have? And are they all so different? Don't we all want the same thing?
Infighting abounds ... ignore it if you can.
Ego, Greed, Narcissism, Recognition, Pursuit of Profit, Dreams of Big Money, Dreams of Adoration ... maybe these are the sides of this Polythedra?
If so ... SHAME ON US.
Cannabis is a plant that has been here since the days we crawled out of the sea. We burned it, boiled it, or dried it. And it gave relief to our ills ... gave rest to the weary ... took pain from those suffering. Was it this early introduction that gave our human bodies these Cannabinoid receptors? You and I have them and they only fire when this plant is ingested. Receptors exist in several organs, bone marrow, brain, gut ... come on people, this plant was meant to be used by Homo-sapiens!!
In researching my above statement on receptors existing in bone marrow, I came across a study that concludes that certain cannabinoids have beneficial effects on even our bone mass! Our moms could be eating a special brownie instead of those huge horse pills that end up making bones more brittle and easily fractured! But alas ... those pills are so nice and white and sterile. Surely they must be good. NOT.
What if we are doing it all wrong? We keep white-washing everything. We keep sterilizing all the treatments. Yet .... our bodies aren't sterile! We keep moving further and further away from that which we came from, we keep taking what Goddess gives us and reverse-engineering it. What the heck? Soon they will modify fruit to no longer have vitamins ... they're already screwing with the Grapefruit because it naturally contraindicates several of big pharma's antidepressant meds! I know this, because I gave them up for the oh-so-many gd years that I swallowed those poisons!
The Sun, Moon, and Earth needs no sterilization. She gives what we need. Your chemical "modern-day" medicines have only been around for a little over a hundred years. There's room for both!
Medicine equals Profit these days. Unless you have a heart the works properly.
Then Medicine = Compassion and Life and Thriving to BE.
This plant helps us BE better.
Sunday, 23 February 2014
Follow Your Arrow ... my thoughts in a song
A few months ago, one of my managers and personal friend asked me if I had heard the new song from a girl named Kacey Musgraves titled "Follow Your Arrow". She said that every time she heard it, she thought of me. That in and of itself almost brought tears to my eyes. But no one likes the bleary-eyed bartender so I controlled myself ... until I googled it at home that night. This song is awesome. It's this one love all is good feeling that highlights the hypocrisy of society and how we are all too quick to judge one another. When you have an image of who you want to be, and that image is reflected back to you in how a friend sees you .. well that's tear invoking for sure.
One of my favorite quotes is from Cat Stephens' song "If you want to sing out". He says, "There's a million things to be ... you know that there are." In conversations with this friend, I have said those very words.
I just turned forty. My backbone is officially fused; though still wobbly at times. But at forty I finally know who I am. I know what I believe. I have an opinion about almost everything. And I will no longer let anyone else affect that, the way I used to. In saying this, I speak my mind a lot of the time. Home and at work. Knowing that I resonate, speak, act, or breathe what is in my mind and heart and soul, is a profound feeling.
I used to agree; though I did not.
I used to sit silent; though I wanted to scream.
I used to accept; though I wanted change.
I try hard not to do any of these things anymore, and it is a struggle sometimes daily.
The song title itself got me to thinking that perhaps it isn't the direction of your arrow, as much as it is the forward momentum, forward movement, just keep moving forward in life. Keep growing. Keep evolving. Keep adapting. And if that arrow is pointing back at you, then it's clearly time to go inside and spend some time reflecting on you and what you want.
Ask yourself, "Self ... what impression am I giving to the world? What image am I showing? And more importantly, does it reflect what's in my heart, mind, and soul?".
What if it's this deep thought and self-reflection--even the painful kind--that facilitates this growth?
Dolly Parton says it best, "Storms make trees take deeper roots."
If I could go back in time and convince myself of one thing, it would be that I rock. It would be that my mind is worthy and that thousands of other people in the world AGREE with me on several topics. I would tell myself that there is no ONE way to be ... there are a MILLION ways to be ... y'know that there are!
"y'know that there arrrrre ..... y'know that there arrrre .... y'know that there arrrre .... "
One of my favorite quotes is from Cat Stephens' song "If you want to sing out". He says, "There's a million things to be ... you know that there are." In conversations with this friend, I have said those very words.
I just turned forty. My backbone is officially fused; though still wobbly at times. But at forty I finally know who I am. I know what I believe. I have an opinion about almost everything. And I will no longer let anyone else affect that, the way I used to. In saying this, I speak my mind a lot of the time. Home and at work. Knowing that I resonate, speak, act, or breathe what is in my mind and heart and soul, is a profound feeling.
I used to agree; though I did not.
I used to sit silent; though I wanted to scream.
I used to accept; though I wanted change.
I try hard not to do any of these things anymore, and it is a struggle sometimes daily.
The song title itself got me to thinking that perhaps it isn't the direction of your arrow, as much as it is the forward momentum, forward movement, just keep moving forward in life. Keep growing. Keep evolving. Keep adapting. And if that arrow is pointing back at you, then it's clearly time to go inside and spend some time reflecting on you and what you want.
Ask yourself, "Self ... what impression am I giving to the world? What image am I showing? And more importantly, does it reflect what's in my heart, mind, and soul?".
What if it's this deep thought and self-reflection--even the painful kind--that facilitates this growth?
Dolly Parton says it best, "Storms make trees take deeper roots."
If I could go back in time and convince myself of one thing, it would be that I rock. It would be that my mind is worthy and that thousands of other people in the world AGREE with me on several topics. I would tell myself that there is no ONE way to be ... there are a MILLION ways to be ... y'know that there are!
"y'know that there arrrrre ..... y'know that there arrrre .... y'know that there arrrre .... "
The Passing of a furry sister.....
And just like that I'm 16 again and I feel like a part of my soul is being bled out my eyes. The first time I was this sad was the day that I put my horse to sleep. I wasn't present for that; was told that it would be all I would remember. So I remained stoic at school trying to keep busy. When I finally got home from school I felt like my life was draining out of me with each step toward my bedroom. I finally collapsed on the bed and wept like no happiness would ever return. As my mom came and hugged me, I only wanted to cry harder. I feel that same way now. I'm losing a companion I've had for the last 19 years of my life.... the last half in fact. Dr. Phil says there are critical moments in your life that will always stand out to you. Going over her critical moments, I break down yet again.
I'm talking about India, my short haired domestic barn cat that has been with me through more than any other soul on this planet. As I sit here watching her take what's remaining of her last day's breath, I remember her critical moments. I think to her .... do you remember how scared you were when you first left the barn? Remember when you had your first litter of kittens behind me as I napped on the couch? Remember how you wouldn't let me leave your side when you were having your second litter? Remember how Sasha the Rotti used to love to chase you and how often she almost caught you?
This is a kitty who ran away from home when I started working long hours at a car dealership. And she stayed away until I left there. I called her that one night for a few hours and the next morning there she was on the doorstep. Never to leave my side again. They always say that no parent should outlive their child. I ask you, should an alpha outlive her pack? And if so, why does it feel so wrong? I used to have a huge pack and this orange kitty is the last of them. It went from including horses, dogs, cats, and lovebirds, to just she and I for the last seven years. A few blogs back I spoke of what happens when you lose someone for whom you care, and around whom you have built much of your life and your routine. This is happening to me now. I know it's time ... that doesn't mean it will be easy to experience. Looking back, I remember trying to differentiate the love I felt for my various pack members. As though the love for one would feel different than that for another. Now I see how each touched me in different ways, but all are inside me now, and swirling around me in energy form.
The day before she passed we had a moment where I kissed her head the way she liked, and I told her she was such a good kitty. And even though she hadn't eaten in almost three days, I could feel the purr in her chest. Barely enough energy to breathe, but energy to purr. She purred through both litter deliveries if I remember correctly, and as she sat beside her furry sister Laya while she welped her own litter of cocker spaniel puppies, she purred for that too. Nurse Indie we called her after that. She would come running when she heard a baby cry. In the past few years I've noticed her bundle blankets, reusable shopping bags or most recently curtains up under her belly and purr ... the maternal yearn is ageless for some.
Original Name: Indianna (after Indianna Jones since the farmer thought she was a boy and she loved my houseplants from day one)
Actual Name: India
Nicknames: Tit-Tat, Kitty, Indie
Age: 19 human years
Birth Place: Hutching's Barn, Westport, Ontario
Known As: Pet, Mother, Sister, Friend, Confidant, Pack member, kitty
Earliest achievement: Above average paw-eye coordination while playing floor hockey with a crumpled up piece of paper at a very early age. She played the week before passing. Athletic til the end.
Lifetime Achievements: Two litters of kittens, mouser extraordinaire, fearless in the face of most dogs. Master of the sneak-in, a bedtime trick where she would wait til all lights were off to silently sneak into bed thus averting the attention of larger pack members.
Favorite meal: Red Sockeye Salmon and Turkey
Most loved phrase: "Such a good kitty"
Dislikes: Being picked up, stale water, stale food. No surprise there, she was a food-snob.
Likes: The sound of kisses on the top of her head, the baby leaves of fresh catnip, a good body massage, her best friend Molly the Boston Terrier, standing water anywhere. In fact, if there was water outside, she HAD to drink some of it.
Final Destination: a small cedar box inscribed with her name ... kept in view for now. Purely symbolic really since I know she is still here.
Always to be remembered.
I'm talking about India, my short haired domestic barn cat that has been with me through more than any other soul on this planet. As I sit here watching her take what's remaining of her last day's breath, I remember her critical moments. I think to her .... do you remember how scared you were when you first left the barn? Remember when you had your first litter of kittens behind me as I napped on the couch? Remember how you wouldn't let me leave your side when you were having your second litter? Remember how Sasha the Rotti used to love to chase you and how often she almost caught you?
This is a kitty who ran away from home when I started working long hours at a car dealership. And she stayed away until I left there. I called her that one night for a few hours and the next morning there she was on the doorstep. Never to leave my side again. They always say that no parent should outlive their child. I ask you, should an alpha outlive her pack? And if so, why does it feel so wrong? I used to have a huge pack and this orange kitty is the last of them. It went from including horses, dogs, cats, and lovebirds, to just she and I for the last seven years. A few blogs back I spoke of what happens when you lose someone for whom you care, and around whom you have built much of your life and your routine. This is happening to me now. I know it's time ... that doesn't mean it will be easy to experience. Looking back, I remember trying to differentiate the love I felt for my various pack members. As though the love for one would feel different than that for another. Now I see how each touched me in different ways, but all are inside me now, and swirling around me in energy form.
The day before she passed we had a moment where I kissed her head the way she liked, and I told her she was such a good kitty. And even though she hadn't eaten in almost three days, I could feel the purr in her chest. Barely enough energy to breathe, but energy to purr. She purred through both litter deliveries if I remember correctly, and as she sat beside her furry sister Laya while she welped her own litter of cocker spaniel puppies, she purred for that too. Nurse Indie we called her after that. She would come running when she heard a baby cry. In the past few years I've noticed her bundle blankets, reusable shopping bags or most recently curtains up under her belly and purr ... the maternal yearn is ageless for some.
Original Name: Indianna (after Indianna Jones since the farmer thought she was a boy and she loved my houseplants from day one)
Actual Name: India
Nicknames: Tit-Tat, Kitty, Indie
Age: 19 human years
Birth Place: Hutching's Barn, Westport, Ontario
Known As: Pet, Mother, Sister, Friend, Confidant, Pack member, kitty
Earliest achievement: Above average paw-eye coordination while playing floor hockey with a crumpled up piece of paper at a very early age. She played the week before passing. Athletic til the end.
Lifetime Achievements: Two litters of kittens, mouser extraordinaire, fearless in the face of most dogs. Master of the sneak-in, a bedtime trick where she would wait til all lights were off to silently sneak into bed thus averting the attention of larger pack members.
Favorite meal: Red Sockeye Salmon and Turkey
Most loved phrase: "Such a good kitty"
Dislikes: Being picked up, stale water, stale food. No surprise there, she was a food-snob.
Likes: The sound of kisses on the top of her head, the baby leaves of fresh catnip, a good body massage, her best friend Molly the Boston Terrier, standing water anywhere. In fact, if there was water outside, she HAD to drink some of it.
Final Destination: a small cedar box inscribed with her name ... kept in view for now. Purely symbolic really since I know she is still here.
Always to be remembered.
Saturday, 15 February 2014
You in or out?
Are you in? Or are you out? Out with some; in with others? In with others; out with some?
I'm out with most of my friends, but in with my boss. Out with immediate fam; in with most extended.
Am I talking sexual preference? Am I talking a personal fault?
No I'm talking something else entirely.
People know me now as someone who has an opinion about all. But opinions can incriminate. And even though I know the evidence is on my side, I still hide.
If I were gay or lesbian, I wouldn't lose my job. Our Human Rights protect that.
When I'm around friends and peers, I discuss it carefully. I'm like a kid at Xmas though, I can't keep the news inside. Did you hear about the cat who lived pain free for 19 years? Did you hear about the kid who stopped having over a hundred seizures a day? Did you hear about all of the cancers that have been beaten into remission?
How about this? Did you hear about the lady with major depressive disorder and how the pills zombified her? Did you hear about all of the bad choices she made because of those pills? The friends she shouldn't have made. The things she shouldn't have tried. Did you hear about the emotionlessness she experienced because of the antidepressants she was prescribed?
Those pills are great ... they kept me from feeling, loving, being, growing.
Zombified.
Did you hear about me? I'm that lady. I was sold the line that antidepressants work on us all. I swallowed the poisons; bought and wore that t-shirt for years and years. But one sized pill will never fit all. We are all so similar; and all vastly different. No two of us are identical ... so why are so many of us given the same pill?
As each day passes, as each success piles on for me, I'm more out than ever. How can I hide something that makes me SO MUCH BETTER? WHY should I hide that?
I pride myself on being real and I attempt to keep myself natural. So this being 'in' thing, makes me feel like a fraud.
I don't use those zombifying pills anymore. I only use a plant. The Cannabis plant. And I have found the right strains to treat my ills. That's right ... they're not all the same!
Isn't it a Human Right to decide how to treat my ills? Isn't this MY BODY? Don't I know myself better than anyone else? Yup I do.
Fair warning to all of you ... when Justin Trudeau legalizes my medicine I'll be ALL OUT.
Being REAL is gonna feel real good.
I'm out with most of my friends, but in with my boss. Out with immediate fam; in with most extended.
Am I talking sexual preference? Am I talking a personal fault?
No I'm talking something else entirely.
People know me now as someone who has an opinion about all. But opinions can incriminate. And even though I know the evidence is on my side, I still hide.
If I were gay or lesbian, I wouldn't lose my job. Our Human Rights protect that.
When I'm around friends and peers, I discuss it carefully. I'm like a kid at Xmas though, I can't keep the news inside. Did you hear about the cat who lived pain free for 19 years? Did you hear about the kid who stopped having over a hundred seizures a day? Did you hear about all of the cancers that have been beaten into remission?
How about this? Did you hear about the lady with major depressive disorder and how the pills zombified her? Did you hear about all of the bad choices she made because of those pills? The friends she shouldn't have made. The things she shouldn't have tried. Did you hear about the emotionlessness she experienced because of the antidepressants she was prescribed?
Those pills are great ... they kept me from feeling, loving, being, growing.
Zombified.
Did you hear about me? I'm that lady. I was sold the line that antidepressants work on us all. I swallowed the poisons; bought and wore that t-shirt for years and years. But one sized pill will never fit all. We are all so similar; and all vastly different. No two of us are identical ... so why are so many of us given the same pill?
As each day passes, as each success piles on for me, I'm more out than ever. How can I hide something that makes me SO MUCH BETTER? WHY should I hide that?
I pride myself on being real and I attempt to keep myself natural. So this being 'in' thing, makes me feel like a fraud.
I don't use those zombifying pills anymore. I only use a plant. The Cannabis plant. And I have found the right strains to treat my ills. That's right ... they're not all the same!
Isn't it a Human Right to decide how to treat my ills? Isn't this MY BODY? Don't I know myself better than anyone else? Yup I do.
Fair warning to all of you ... when Justin Trudeau legalizes my medicine I'll be ALL OUT.
Being REAL is gonna feel real good.
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