Friday, July 29, 2016

Westminster Abbey Meditation, Mission Frazer Valley, BC

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I often stop at the Mission returning from the west or north to Vancouver. After a weekend of camping, fishing, hunting, hot tubbing, hiking, boating or quadding, I’ll turn off the road at Mission and head up the hill to that sacred place.  Laura and I did this Sunday.  

Mission, the town was named after the historic St. Mary’s Mission of the Oblate founded in 1868. Westminster Abbey, the monster of Catholic men of the St. Benedictine Order.  “Wa are all made in the image of God."

I like to kneel and pray in silence in the light filled chapel.  This day a group of Chinese Christians with what appeared to be a ‘tour guide’ had congregated in front of the door and were reading loudly in unison rather happily and  communally, their chanting voices filling the interior of the church distracting me from my own silent prayers.  

I’d just come from the quiet serenity of Harrison Lake and was facing another week in the frenetic humdrum of Vancouver City.  This is normally where I stop and alone ‘gear up’ for another week preparing for all the toxicity and anger, threats and fear I encounter working with drug addicted patients.  

As I was leaving I interrupted their happy Christian community, disrupting their ‘dragon boat Christian loudness’ by sternly saying ‘your voices are carrying through the church, could you move to the side away from the entrance.”  I said, They were all terribly apologetic. I was judgemental of their insensitivity.  

I’d had a wonderful time in the woods.  I loved the freedom.  Now I was going back to a world where everyone was offended by everything and the government was the ‘thought police’ and ‘language police’ and ‘terror’ reigned everyone in that decidedly ‘apathetic’ rising drug addiction, consumer way that is so fundamentally Canadian.  Everyone smiling in fear , the enslaved, bowing to their masters, ever polite fore fear of offending all the ever offended social bullies backed increasingly by the government and Supreme Court.  Even comedians can’ t joke without law suits.  It’s Sharia Communism.  Journalists are rounded up in Turkey to be silenced. But in Canada the journalists have long been silences in all the mainstream.  If you don’t write what the politically correct dictators want you are out of a job.

I’m going back to an increasingly atheistic hostile world where the government demands more and more places for people to do drugs despite the exponential rise of overdose since the first of these was opened. Now as more open more deaths occur. All the while abortions go on at the billion dollar death industry.  

They were nice people.  I love my Chinese Christian friends. They have a happiness and harmony that is apostolic.  I’m Kierkegaard by comparison. One of the dessert fathers. My mentors are St. Paul and Isaiah.  I turn to Jeremiah on a good day.  

They couldn’t know their voices were carrying. They were gathered outside the church and worshiping in celebration of the risen lord. I’m watching his coming crucifixion.  Herod Justin Trudeau celebrates the persecution of Christians and brings jihadists to Canada to begin all over again the debate about whether homosexuals should be killed or ostracized.  The courts only gave struck down the laws that called for their arrest in the late sixties and early 70’s.  Now Sharia Law would have them thrown from the tops of high buildings.  Our gay priest rests on his laurels. He doesn’t exuded that ‘wealthy Christian’ good time feeling of the “health and wealth Christian’.  He probably knew those who died of Aids as I did.  I was at the bedsides.  I was terrified.  The plagues are still among us.  

It’s good to catch a moment of joy and celebration.  

I am droll.

I remember times in my life when I was positively ecstatic. I remember feeling my heart would burst with joy when I was younger. There were slices of reality that glimmered. I feel I’ve been touched by God over and over again. I’ve stood on the highest peak. I’ve known dreams and visions and walked in harmony. I’ve known sacred moments so deep and profound. I’ve been transcended. I’ve felt myself lifted on eagle’s wings.

All this comes and goes.  Today I’m ‘slouching towards Bethlehem’.  Today I have been punched in the hip. I’ve woken and my rib has been taken and I hear that shrill woman Hillary insist everyone should vote for her because she has a vagina, sexist cow. And what is worst so many will, just as they voted for Obama ‘because he was black’.  The racists and the sexists are those who say ‘me, me, me, because I’m me.”  And if you don’t accept them, they attack you . Evil.

Old testament stuff.

Fire and Brimstone.

But the Cross symbolizes the “Good News’.  God died for our sins.  The slate is clean.  There is a new accord. Jesus is my advocate.  It all boils down to our being saved, children of the one true God.

I am a crusader. I carry a sword. In WWI I would have flown a Sopwith Camel, in WWII a spit fire, in Afghanistan I’d have been a military sniper.  Always I’m a doctor. I heal. I pick up the pieces left from the industrial age. I clean up the remains after the battlefield.

I dreamed last night of cleaning up countless bodies, tiny Lilliputian women, naked white, in a sink, putting them in a plastic bag with a twist tie, hundreds like shrimp, the abortus, these fetus shaped full grown women bleached white in the sink, left over from the killing, and I was gathering them to bury in the woods and pray for all the women who could have been were it not abortion.

I still have nightmares about the abortions I did.  

I talked with a man last night whose daughter is doing so well in her young adult life that he beamed with pride.  The torch is being carried on.  

My babies were aborted too.  I am alone in life. No ‘flavour’ of immortality left to me.  We discussed last week the destruction of the Celtic Race, our place in the Bible as the Galatians.  We were ‘white’ and now the ‘white man and white women’ are the latest in a list of evils of the new revisionist historians whose arguments always ends with ‘make me king instead and give me all your money or else’.

I’m tired.  It’s the end of a week.  

I’m running late.

I’ve got to find the joy and channel hope.  It’s always there but I’ve surrounded myself with sickness and death all my life.  Others encounter it rarely and avoid it but I’m going again to hear the complaints about life and to offer pills and advice and to listen and admire.  Each of those I know have more than enough reason to homicide or suicide but we keep on. We keep on trucking. We do the next right thing. We move forward and hope that it’s up.  

We raise our faces to the stars. We lift our eyes to the sky.  We look out there and up there for a God that is within and everywhere. Be with me today. Help me do thy will. Thank you Jesus.  Forgive me for my lack of faith.  Thank you for the Abbey. It’s a place of retreat and it always touches my soul and reminds me that mercy is more than judgement and that joy comes in the morning.

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Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Gratitude, July 26, 2016

Thank you Lord for this day. Thank you for my work. Thank you for my colleagues. Thank you for the staff. Thank you for the patients.Thank you for my teachers and mentors. Thank you for the joy I experience when someone becomes well and moves on with their life out of the stuck place that brought them to me. Thank you for all the knowledge that you have helped me to acquire, all the training, and all the experience. Thank you for your wisdom and teaching.
Thank you for my family and friends. Thank you for my buddy, Gilbert the cockapoo.
Thank you for the end of this day, the sunshine and blue sky and the peace and calm here outside at a picnic table, Gilbert watching for other dogs and entertainment on the street. Thank you for the green and this lovely breeze.
Thank you for summer. Thank you for summer vacations.
Thank you for people who fix things, repair things, make things whole. Thank you for Honda Centre, for Tom for his help, for Eric at Starlet RV, for Carolynn and her help and Joelle and her help. I love that I know people I can phone who have specialized skills that I can call on and they will be there to ‘fix’ something.  I don’t mind the cost because these professionals are so reasonable and the solutions are so rewarding.  Right now I’ve the second toilet problem this year, but one that involves a holding tank and sewage removal.  I understand how my colleague chose bowel and anal surgery as a speciality because people are simply so happy when these ‘systems’ are restored. Right now I’m using secondary systems, having an outdoor toilet options but I don’t like the inconvenience of walking to the building when it’s just so nice to ‘dump’ at home.  It’s only a day or two delay but I’m going to be so thankful when it’s resolved. I loved when Eric fixed my bath which was leaking.
I just love when people fix things. I fix things. I fix things at the physical , social and psychiatric and beaurocratic, medical legal and various paradigm levels too but it’s not as ‘obvious’. I arranged for a couple of surgical hernia repairs after getting ultrasounds and reviewing the reports.  I miss doing the actual cutting myself. I treated a few infections, cellulitis and std’s. There’s such a pleasure in the seen. I do all this other stuff in which I feel much like I’m just holding people on till they get out of deep water and it’s not so apparent and more I don’t really know if I’m doing the ‘good’ things, convincing people not to suicide, convincing people to get off drugs. There’s such a disillusionment going on. I’ve seen a few notes of colleagues and they seem happy enough to see people and do the text book stuff, not questioning the ‘raison d’ĂȘtre’.  I feel like the little boy with a finger in the damn.  It’s the insanity in the media, the feeding frenzies and manic depressive, paranoia and frenetic writing.  I muddle along.  Aging takes its toll.  There’s a same old same old, humdrum and I wonder if I’m doing okay.  So many people are so ‘offended’ and so ‘entitled’ and the expectations in the bureaucracy for others to do all the work for free is at an all time high.  People who wouldn’t lift a finger for a dying man seem to think you should give your left kidney and heart to their ‘pet of the month’.  Causes come and go.  The people who are being paid off our income living in palaces are the worst.

But thank you Lord for the joy I experience. Thank you for the things I maintain and need to fix. Thank you for this little dog and the vet. Thank you for my brother and his doctors. Thank you for the nephews and sister in law.

Thank you for the church and the meetings and the literature of hope.
Thank you for prayer and meditation.
Thank you for TV and Hagen Daz tv.
Thank you for iPhone.
Thank you for Apple and Netflix movies.

I really did enjoy Divergent Alluvant last night.

I’m so looking forward to go ing to the theatre to see the new Star Wars.

I hope that we can get away and enjoy the summer long weekend.

Thank you for New Orleans and my conference there this year. Thank you for Laura caring for Gilbert. Thank you for the lovely Chinese lady who does my laundry in loads.I”m glad I’ve bundled a pile so I actually have some clean clothes in the coming weeks. I hadn’t realized I was running low having no time to do my own with all these demands for reports and records and meetings.  I’ve enjoyed it. But can only consider that these positions were made for ‘back up’ and I’ve lived so long on my own without the assistance that the position were originally designed for. It’s my choice.  I have independence  and more freedom to come and go but looking back at my mother’s help to my father and realizing I’ve never known that, myself the ‘wife’ in my relationships as well as the major breadwinner I can’t see the merit in the modern marriage but I do miss my cleaning lady and I so admire my sister in law and brother in law on their maintaining their large home and taking care of all the guests.  They’re regular hotel managers.  I’m overwhelmed with Gilbert and I.

I was thinking that if I cleaned up my trailer and unloaded all the excess in the storage locker which needs sorting too I could take this trailer off for the weekend but instead I’ll whine and moan. I could get the tent out too.  It’s there in the storage locker and I could really enjoy tenting this weekend rather than worrying about finding a cabin which isn’t booked this high use time.  I’m so looking forward to being away in the wilderness though maybe by a lake. I really out to swim.
Thank you Lord for summer.
Thank you Lord for all the possibilities.

Now thank you for the peanut butter and fresh bread I bought. I’m going to enjoy myself right now.  And the new Hagen daz Coconut ice cream.  Gilbert loved licking the bowl as much as I loved this new flavour I’ve not enjoyed before. Normally I love hagen daz coffee and vanilla but this coconut is so summer.
Thank you Lord Jesus.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Bungalow Motel Cabins, Harrison Lake and the new Honda 500 Pioneer Side by Side ATV

I love Bungalow Motel at Harrison Lake.  They are a set of rustic cabins off the main drag in Harrison going towards the East Harrison Road across from the Church, right beside the boat launch. I’ve been staying here now for a quarter century, every year.  Some years I can get away more other years work has won out and I’ve only been able to get there for an overnight.  Every time has been special.  The owners are magnificent.
I purchased a Honda 500 Pioneer Side by Side ATV trading in my former quad.  With the new machine, Laura would be able to sit beside me and Gilbert, my dog, had a place to sit on a blanket at her feet.  We’d not all three been able to ride the quad and after Gilbert hurt his back last year I didn’t want him jumping up and down as before.  My hunting friend’s all approve of the ‘side by side’ seating arrangement because none of them wanted to ride in the quad’s  ‘bitch’ seat.  I’ve done it and frankly by the time we'd untangled and dismounted and got our rifles out  the game we’d seen was long gone.  The ‘side by side’ is simply the best way to go if you’re not always planning on being alone.
We drove the short ride from Vancouver to Harrison’s Friday night after picking up my new Honda from the awesome folk at Honda Centre at Boundary and First. I’ve been doing business with them for a decade at least and buying Honda for my back woods off the grid camping, hunting and exploring needs or for off shore sailing use for at least a quarter of a century too. I’ve had outboards, generators, scooters and motorcycles and now this incredible Honda 500 Pioneer. The beauty of the machine is that it’s narrow enough to sit in the truck box like a regular quad.  The minor disadvantage for hauling purposes is that like a ski doo, the length requires the gate of the truck to be down.  That’s going to affect how I hitch the RV to the truck when the Honda Pioneer is on board though it will fit in my RV Toyhauler’s garage.
Laura loves the Bungalow Motel.  When we arrived it was about 7 pm. We’d stopped in A&W in Mission where there was 50’s hot rod car rally with Elvis music going on.  We ate burgers and onion rings as we drove up the beautiful #7 highway to Harrison. Gilbert loves getting the A&W beef paddy though his favourite is MacDonald’s.  .
The particular cabin we were put up in this time has the best view of all.  It looked out on the park where Canada Geese had collected and beyond to Harrison Lake where the BC Sailing races were going on all weekend.  At the other end of the town by the Harrison Resort, the Dragonboat Festival was taking place as well.  Harrison Lake is a hopping place in the summer with bikinis galore and all the muscle men out, along with a full array of outdoor activities going on.  It’s the most interesting place that way, with a near by provincial park that caters to the outdoorsy set, the marina for sailors and all the fishing and guiding activities, and nearby backwoods. Meanwhile there are luxury hotels for those who just want to drinkie poo on balconies in the sun.  The Harrison Hot Springs Resort and Spa we enjoy most mid winter for the ‘waters’ is always a going concern.   The town has really built up since I began coming here in the 80’s.  The golf course is especially popular now and there are so many great restaurants.
Laura and I like the Bungalow Cabins for the rustic charm. Each has a little patio and we enjoyed sitting outside reading and drinking coffee.
After arriving and settling in and eating pizza we walked Gilbert in the park and had a fairly early night in the ultimate quiet of the surroundings. Outside the sky had cleared and the billions of stars were radiant without the city lights obscuring them.  I love sitting outside at Harrison Lake and looking across the great expanse of water to the mountains beyond.  It’s the most meditative place.
In the morning Gilbert, as usual, got me up so I took him for a walk in the park.  He loves all the scents and was the happiest I’ve seen him in months this weekend.  
Then we  walked the short distance to the down town mall where Chuck and Kitty’s cafe is. They serve the best morning coffee and egg cheese and bacon buns to die for.  I carried all this back. The dragon boat folk were gathering at this early  hour while those who’d danced up a storm in the pub were probably sleeping in.
Bringing a beautiful girl breakfast in bed definitely gets one brownie points.  It was about 11 am before we got ourselves organized to head back country.  I’d brought my Ruger Mini 14 semi auto 223 shell rifle for back woods target practice so confirmed with the "in the know” Bungalow Motel folk that the top of the lake would be the best for off the grid 4x4 ing. There’s a whole lot of logging roads up there with gravel pits where you can set up targets without fear of disturbing vegetarians.
We drove the Ford F350 with Honda Pioneer in the back past the Sasquatch Provincial Camp and the Bear Creek Camp and the Cobalt Point campsites. They were all full of young people and I remember when years past I had the last, a long beech area, all to my self, mid summer. Now they’re all full and I believe some have to booked ahead.  They all even have facilities and there’s lots of picnic tables that never existed years ago.  The Harrison east road is gravel but so good that all manner of cars and trucks and bikes had ridden up there parking along the road to access the beach.
We found a great hill to off load the Honda Pioneer at. I am always anxious at the loading and off loading phase where there’s that moment of commitment when I can’t help but fear I’m going to fall off the end of the truck or flip somehow.  I love ‘terra firms’.  As always, the unloading went just fine.  We then locked up the truck and Laura and Gilbert and I set out to explore.
What a glorious little machine!!!.  There’s an advertisement Honda uses of a man and woman, admittedly half our age, really enjoying driving along a narrow wooded trail in their Pioneer 500..  Despite their perfect hair and teeth, I thought we looked just like them and definitely were having twice the fun.  Honda’s advertising really is truthful.     I looked over at Laura and she was beaming.  I just loved driving this little mini jeep and it’s perkiness.  Lots of gears.  Great clearance.   Gilbert had lots of room on a blanket at Laura’s feet.
We even had a couple of doe cross the road in front us and I had time to find my iPhone in the pouches set under the roof and get a shot with the camera. This machine is going to be a great hunting platform for my friend and I come fall.
After driving for a bit on the main logging road we took a sketchy little road off to the beach.   Laura squealed when we slid sideways in a muddy stretched.  I noticed she had her seat belt on and at times had a hand on the bars holding herself in on turns.  This was a truly off the grid place where what we think of as kids had set up tents and were quadding and off road motorcycle camping along the beach.
“We’re not old people police! Continue what you’re doing.  We’re just stopping for coffee”.  I called out to this group of 20 year old whose youth space we’d obviously invaded.  They laughed, but clearly were at ease with the idea we’d not be staying.  At the end of the beach we stopped and pointed the Honda at the lake. I got out a thermos of coffee while Laura shared some cheese slices with Gilbert.  I sat in that perfect little Honda Pioneer 4x4 side by side looking at this most wonderful of lakes with the sky clearing, a beautiful girl beside me and Gilbert chasing bits of wood in the sand.  Life doesn’t get any better.
We drove back to the main road and took some side roads before heading up into the mountains where we found a narrow bridge which could only be crossed by ATV’s.  We were off the grid there and had a lovely drive up in  the hills. We picked berries along the road and the wild flowers were lovely   We crossed a little mountain stream by a waterfall and stopped for selfies.  Then I  set up targets and got out the Ruger Mini 14.  We’d earlier seen bear scat and as usual Laura was concerned so I’d said she needn’t be because I had the rifle.
Well, it turned out the rifle was jammed and it took me all of 10 to 15 minutes to get it working.  Naturally Laura figured a bear would have had more than enough time to eat her so I had to reassure that  Gilbert would have protected her as bear hate barking little dogs.
While we were driving up there she’d suddenly started flailing about with her hands. I stopped to see if she was alright and she said . “A great black spider landed on me.”  We couldn’t find any evidence of this hallucination but when I put on my Sturges North Hoodie I felt a crawly in my sleeve.  I won’t say I flailed about but rather that I had the hoodie off with some alacrity.  It turned out that our guest was not a big black spider but rather a very large black cricket.
We both admitted we loved crickets and enjoyed watching it fly away.  I’d turned the vehicle around using the reverse several times in the day but suddenly without any warning the reverse function didn’t work.  Laura got out and helped me push the little thousand pound machine around so I could drive a hundred yards back from the targets. I couldn’t think of any reason the reverse wouldn’t work as all the other gears did and didn’t figure on figuring out backwoods repairs. The lovely little machine would still get us back to the truck.
So I shot off 20 or 30 rounds till I was getting a good grouping in the centre of the target all the while Gilbert was ecstatically hoping that grouse would start dropping out of the skies.  Gilbert absolutely loves grouse hunting. While I was practising target shooting he was practicing sniffing and weaving and pointing. Laura was waiting patiently while the boys were having all the fun.
On the way down we had to cross the bridge.  While the one side was an easy rise the return side was a steep ramp.  Laura and Gilbert got out and I gunned it.  I remembered hearing the word ‘commitment’ from the Gaylor at Honda and from the owner of Bungalow Cabins when we’d discussed steep ramps.  I gave her and Laura said it was a thing of beauty.  “You were air born and landed perfectly.” My heart was in my throat but I only could have been a foot off the ground yet being as it was over a roaring river it all had lots of psychological significance. I swaggered with my chest out after that maneuver though it was something I’d done countless times and with much more air on my former quad. This is just what my friend Dave lives for when he goes quadding. I was even thinking of backing up the steep except with the loss of reverse I had little choice and could see nowhere to look my winch too. In for a penny in for a pound. I committed. And it was glorious!.
We drove down the mountain from there  and got the Honda Pioneer situated on the little hill for loading, having to adjust the truck to the quad because without reverse,  I couldn’t position the quad. Laura shouted directions to me watching for alignment and it was good.
With the Honda Pioneer on the back of the Ford F350 I just had to tie it down.  Then we drove back to Bungalow Motel.  We’d been riding about for maybe 6 or 7 hours and I was exhausted.  I loved the shower and Laura ordered pizza.
There was nothing on TV even though they had cable.  Both of us read and we all loved the ‘meat lovers’ pizza with cold coca colas.  Gilbert thought we’d chosen well.
We slept in.  My body is still aching.  We packed up and headed home after another magnificent weekend at Harrison’s.  I’ll get my Honda fixed this week and maybe next weekend we can do it all over again.  We were lucky to get into Bungalow with a few days notice because of a cancellation.  I can’t wait to return.  I always feel like I’m in one of those grand little places I stayed at near Boston or outside of San Francisco where movies are made of  artists who go to get close to nature.
They have an outdoor swimming pool we’ve enjoyed in the past getting a bit of that Palm Spring lying around in the sun  pool experience. It was really hot this weekend.  I did think of walking over to the beech and diving into the lake. The water is perfect this time of the year.  But there’s never enough time to do all the things you want to, as the Jim Croce song goes. I didn’t even get to the hot spring pool in town like I usually do.  It such a Gordon Lightfoot John Denver getaway.  The town is definitely becoming more a Beach Boys scene.
Back in Vancouver I feel rather than two nights away  like I’ve been away for a week. Heaven would be staying there for a week or two.   Bit I have to get back to work having had the very best of breaks.  It’s hard to believe it’s only an hour a way.

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Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Rainy Day Vancouver

There needs to be a new diagnosis for depression for Vancouver.  Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is related to the loss of sun with seasons.  I think there's a need for a DSMV "Rainy Day Blues" diagnosis.  The treatment would be staying in bed till the rains stop and the sun comes back.  On Facebook there was a post from Scotland with a picture of the 'one sunny day' of summer.  I'm feeling summer deprived here in July.

Also Gilbert's back is sore.  He was hurt again at the groomers and hasn't been able to jump since last Friday. All he does is lie about appearing to not want to move because of pain.  Having traumatic joint arthritis myself I'm "feeling the weather" in my bones today too.  I've gone to work. I brought a little bed for him to lie under the desk here so he'd be more comfortable.  I may take him back to the Vet's again.  He injured the disk last year jumping out of the truck and then doing more harm jumping down from the ATV.

Adapting to my poor little dog, so he won't jump up or down from waist height, I've traded the Yamaha Quad in for a Honda 500 Pioneer Side by Side.  That way Gilbert can step in and out just like in the car.  Of course as I'm hunting more with Tom and taking Laura along more the passenger seat is a must.  Also there's a roof and windshield and roll bars so it's an upgrade.  It was occasioned by Gilbert though.

Today he couldn't even climb into the low lying Miata. I've been picking him up and carrying him whereever there's stairs.  He sleep on the floor beside the bed rather than on the bed like he usually does now despite my making a ramp for him to get up.  Poor little guy.

My disappointment with the groomer is simply that, he was well before, and he was lame again after. So something happened. Possibly playing with another dog or resisting getting his ears trimmed. Whatever a part of me believes that something happened and that someone noticed but in our sick society no one notified me. It's possible they didn't know.  I don't even know if they were notified of his back being sensitive.  Still, because I don't know I can't use that groomer again.  The 'unknown' makes the place more dangerous.  Avoidance is a great coping mechanism.  I just can't risk another injury to Gilbert.  The weekend was spent caring for him and now there will likely be a vet bill possibly because someone was careless. I don't know.  I feel all those helpless and guilty feelings that parents feel all the time.

On a rainy day I find any excuse for 'self pity'.

"Self pity' is that go to place that the mind is seeking an excuse to find.  Daily I resist the alluring temptation of self pity by constantly reciting "All shall be well, All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well.'

I let a weasel of despair into my mind on the way to work.  I'd heard the Trump and Obama speech copy and thought how very sad that 'speech writer's' can make such an important error.  I can see how it happens. Nothing is new.  Everything has been said.  I found myself wanting to go to the tombs and find who had said Obama's lines which Trump had apparently copied.  The Stair Way to Heaven debate just finished. The whole "intellectual property' debate is a mine field.  Harlequin Romances are factory produced 'storys' endlessly repeating.   The University Professors are constantly facing 'plagiarism' these days, whole essays lifted from the internet.  The Media is the worst.  Repeatedly we've seen that whole stories are copied over and over again like human reports are Celtic Monks rewriting Reuters copy, the human photocopy machines.  Yet these narcissistic hypocrites go all politically correct "I'm offended" when a woman with English as a second language repeats three sentences which were not that original in the first place.  I recognise one 'phrase' and another 'sentence' and really would like to know where Obama plagiarized that from given the limits of originality.

It's a rainy day so the image of the petrie dish with the man's brain removed from his body and placed there by his arch enemy.  A good scientist and his wife are struggling in this horrifying future movie to wonder how they will reconnect this disconnect alive brain to some body or even a communication device. He continues in his dream chasing his love.

I'm that man on rainy days.  I'm in this life which the Biblical Ecclesiastes writer describes as "All is Vaniety."
___________

I just did some distracting work at the office.  The essence of depression is narcissism. In the care of others I am distracted from my own suffering.  Kiekegaard said 'Life is Suffering Unto Death".  And the more I focus on myself, the more mental masturbation I do, the more I let my ego be the determinant of reality, the more depressed I am.  In the act of caring for another I am "enlightened'. Little Prince is a book about a little boy on an Asteriod caring for a Rose .   It's in caring for the Rose that he loves.  Love is an action verb.  Little Prince is one of true classics of love. Unfortunately mutuality seems lost in this day.  (See the self pity meme slips in, unwanted.)

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy is all about 'replacing' or 'blocking' the negative 'memes'.  The word 'meme' is like 'gene' but refers to a make up of the mind rather than the body.

Each of us carries a collection of these 'Mutated Memes", memes that induce sickness rather than wellness.

"Things may be going well now but that's just life fattening me up for the witch to eat me."  ( forgetting the children 'escape' from the Gingerbread House and just focussing on the beginning of the story and all the variations of that."
"I loved her once and she was a bitch so all love is going to end badly"
"The rich and elite have success all sown up and I'm never going to get ahead."
"The only way to succeed is by crime so the best way is to lie, steal, cheat but don't get caught'.
"It doesn't matter.'
"All is Vanity'
"Might as well kill myself."
"No one cares".
"There is no God"
"Life is just meaningless"
"The one who wins is the one who dies with the most toys"
"Women only want you when you're rich."
"Men are always cheaters."
"Women are always cheaters"
"We are all oppressed".
"The Government is all lies and theft."
"You're no good."
"You're a loser".
"Alien lizards have taken over the planet"
"We're all just wage niggers."
"The Bankers have fixed the game"
"They're put poison in our food so we get cancer."
"They're trying to kill us off."

The list goes on.

I've been listening to psychotic thinking for 30 years or more.  I've heard every new insaniety meme as it appears, They're like flu viruses.  My favourite is that I'm in feed back meaningless dream loop with no escape.  Watching the science fiction movies and reading the horror stories helps one understand the mind of genius and insaneity.  I don't judge my patients when they jump off high rises in hope of flying.  Maybe when they splat they are flying in a parallel reality.

I'm stuck here in rainy Vancouver.

I could walk out.

I could walk away with my injured dog and just see how far I get. Maybe take the Harley.  The geographical solution to bad weather. Go south.  End up in Hollywood. Get a job as an aging busboy in some off beat diner and wait to be 'found'.  I love the optimism of the Jim Croce's working in a car wash song, "I should be smoking a big cigar".  Everyone wants the manger job. I want God's job.  I loved the various omnipotence stories, the best being Doystoyevski, Brother's Karamasov, or better perhaps is Job in the Bible.  We're always 'defining' deity.  Yet the fact is that there might just as well be an eternal arbitrariness. The creative claim they want originality but faced with the true unknown, even Moses, as good a follower as there is, shields his face.

To know the face of God, the see the face of God is to be lost.  We hold onto our separateness. The self is the little self and the Self is the greater Self.  But the ego is the part of me that sees myself as disconnected. I am an escapee from the group mind.  I fear being absorbed. But that is Nirvana and Samadhi of the Hindu/Buddhist meme.  "I am the bubble make me the sea."  Being more Christian I'm struggling with what Paul Simon of the Old Testament called the "mother and child reunion.'  Looking back over my shoulder I'm a baby banging on the woman's vagina begging to be sucked back into the womb. I think of Leonard Cohen with that image. But Prince Charles said it best when he said "I want to be your tampon".  Really, admit it, I want to be back in the womb.  The vagina is just the edge.  Imagine effortless sustenance, mother's feel good hormones channelling through you, dreaming.

Are any of born?

The "Born Again" movement, being born in spirit. The Spiritual rebirth, sadly so intellectural and emotional for many, when there is a dream of something transcendent.  Let me out of here!!!!
Beam me up Scotty!!!! Where's the fucking Rapture when I need it?

It's just a rainy day in Vancouver. I'm at the Downtown East Side clinic waiting for the next heroin or fentanyl addict to come in.  I prescribed methadone.  "It's too dangerous out there." He said. "I just want to get high. Take a vacation from my mind. I don't want to die. What's going on. Whose killing off their customers."

The police have traced the bad fentanyl to the Chinese. The Chinese military hacked into all of Canada's computers on a few occasions.  Justin Trudeau and his father Pierre Trudeau before him are in league with the Chinese. The United Nations Agenda 21 is a document for killing off the poor. Get rid of anyone but Liberals and Democrats and those who believe in One World Order.  Bring on the Totalitarian State. The great Corporate Consumer Paradise.  The Catholic Church tried this. The Roman Empire and all the African and Asian empires. Now there's Brexit.  Allah is all. Everyone must be Islam. Kill the jews, destroy Israel, the followers cry and another Jihadist attacks a soft target.  Trudeau, Obama and Merkel blame Christians and white people and trucks and guns.  Whose buying these puppets.  It's like the days before WWII when Goebels was writing script for the Nazis.  Marketting and advertising selling some crazy dreams. Eventually Freud said "Maybe the paranoids are right."

My back is sore. My dogs back is sore. We are Atlas.

There is Existential Angst.  The Scream on a wood block sums it up.  I just saw the movie  Cell. It's a variation on Invasion of the Body Snatchers.  I met a schizophrenic man who had Capgras Syndrome. He believed everyone he knew, his closest family had been taken over by aliens.  I met another man who had the opposite syndrome, he believed he'd been taken over by an alien while everyone else was well. Reminded me of Metamorphoses. Kafka.  I am a cockroach.

They say if there is a nuclear blast sufficent to wipe the earth clean, a cataclysmic WWIII then the cockroaches will still survice. Maybe our consciousness will switch to the insects and two cockroaches will be chatting each other up in a futuristic cockroach bar.  Einstein said that if we keep having World Wars we're eventually devolve to fighting with sticks. He was optimistic. I'm already considering fashion accessories for Cockroach Vogue and GQ.

It's just a rainy day in Vancouver.

The tough question was whether there were as many Jesus incarnations as there are liveable planets in the galaxy multiplied by multiple universes. I had my first encounter with my own insignificance when I got a child stethescope kit as a birthday present and looked in my first drop of pond water.  How can any one be arrogant and grandiose after the sudden realization of oneself as a drop of pond water in some bigger stethescope of some bigger kid.

I am insignificantly significant and significantly insignificant.  I coined t his meme or affirmation for my bipolar patients who struggled with 'right size'.

I just gravitate to self pity.

The more intelligent one is the greater the risk of depression.  That was the message in the most brilliant computer in the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  :"I am so depressed".

Another rainy day in Vancouver.

This too shall pass.

Saturday, July 16, 2016

All God's Children are Precious to Him

in this present political climate of Buffalo Springfield "people carrying signs, mostly say hooray for our side' I wrote this song. Could have gone on and added endless verses like 'Girls and boys", "Liberals and Conservatives" but instead I figured that children could make up their own lines like they do so well with "He's got the whole world in his hands". As far as I'm concerned "polka dotted and candy striped" covers it all.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Journal Entry Thursday

It was a hard start this week.  Monday was a rough Monday.  I thought Sunday was saturday.  I’d been a way the week before and this confused me.  I returned to 2-3 times the work I left and the week I left I had 2-3 x the work to leave.  It’s always been that way.
I remember talking to doctors who simply gave up taking holidays because the work was overwhelming to get away. So many of my rural colleagues can’t get locums.
Some of it too is that I go away for a week and I'm out of the mines, out of the routine, out of the flow.  I have to think about things again that were almost done on autopilot. I made a mistake with a medication yesterday that was just 'stupid', writing a totally different medication down that vaguely 'looked' like another. The pharmacist phoned to ask for clarification and I made the correction but it was essentially like a produce manager giving you a cucumber when you asked for tomato.  I was just renewing the script so it was obvious given the previous record, still. That's the sort of thing that happens and worries me so much with the homungus multiplication of details and paperwork.  In the community I get this more and more with 'parts' errors so common that I'm actually surprised when a store gives me the right one first time.  I remember my friend getting the 'wrong' part on a vacuum cleaner bag 6x.  I remember every single error I've made with medications and prescriptions and I've noted a couple a year more caught by staff, pharmacist or patient. None life threatening but all unnerving. I went years without a single error and now the 'system' holds these errors within the process of prescription renewal and the multiplicity of drugs, pharmacies, specialists.  I miss the days when I saw young patients principally and they were not seeing a dozens specialists and on only the medication I was prescribing and only one pharmacist was involved and I knew him or her as the case was.  I have to accept the stress is overwhelming at times and change whether good or bad increases stress.  A half dozen of my favourite colleagues and referral folk have retired. I didn't realize that most were 70ish. I thought of them as younger but they've closed their practices and no one is there to take their patients over.  I 'm taking a few simply because I admired one colleague and we worked in a similar vein.  Patients constantly tells me everywhere they go the system is functioning like a factory. "I'm only allowed one complaint."  "She only has 5 minutes to see me." "The psychiatrist only saw me the first time and since then it's a nurse or a group.'  The complaints are systemic. I live in fear of the hoards of regulators and police watching the police watching the police and the media watching everyone and no one doing the front line work anymore or those who do so often have no skills or experience.  It's all troubling but surprisingly things go along and most work out.  There is a sense of foreboding in the air. That general sense that something is about to burst.  All the debts and struggles to pay the rent.  Several of my patients are not eating more than one meal. They're on pensions, spent their lives working and now have to go without eating to pay their rent.  Always there's anger.
Then there were the suicides. Early in my career every time I took a month vacation with the university or hospital I’d return to some patient having been turned away by the ER or someone not taking them seriously so they hung themselves or overdosed.  I was devastated because they all sought help elsewhere but it was ‘my fault’ because I ‘abandoned’ them.  I was doing psychoanalytic psychotherapy extensively in those days with borderline personality disorders who’d had multiple suicide attempts and were always suicidal.  Relationship therapy was the basis of there getting better. They’d see me weekly and to their astonishment I’d not beat them up or have sex with them.  All their care givers before me, mother, father, uncles aunts, boyfriends, girlfriends, siblings and even some health care workers had done that. So they just assumed that I would.  They were full of rage.  So when I would be away they’d go to the ER and tell the doctor they were suicidal and really and he/she’d send them home with some ativan, (‘brush them off’), there were ‘no beds’.  This is a real reason , a real medical reason, for an admission.  I can still feel my anger at those days.  It happened each year and I was afraid while I was away, wondering if my patients would get care. The dynamics of these suicides were mixed in hate/fear and full of ‘transference’ but in the end my ‘counter transference’ was simply that I chose to take 2 week vacations at most. Nobody killed themselves when I was away only for 10 days or 2 weeks.  There have been exceptions. I was sailing for a month back from Hawaii with a 3 week window planned only to have the mast break but by then I wasn’t doing mostly psychoanalytic therapy and patients were a really mixed bag with mostly drugs and alcohol, ptsd, somatic issues and head injuries.  Most services were ‘enabling’ borderlines or having passive aggressively written them off so I wasn’t doing in depth therapy. I liked that the borderlines I treated back then went on to be rich famous leaders and success stories.  I always felt that craziness was just going in the wrong direction and if you could turn it around the person would be going as fast in the right direction.
Now I’m working with a lot of other doctors and less alone but still there are no back up resources.  The advantage now is that there’s coverage at the gp level or walk in clinic level.  Then the cell phone has made all the difference. I’ve had calls most days while I’ve been away and that seems to be enough for my chronically suicidal patients.  No one has killed themselves in years while I’ve been away for years. Thank you  Jesus.
All weeks been a little sluggish but that’s mostly been the weather. I’ve had a whole lot of work and been exhausted at the end of the day. I suspect that’s aging. I ordered a pizza and simply watched TV I felt so drained. Went for a walk with Gilbert and a friend.
Was really thankful Thursday had arrived. Wednesday the ‘hump’.
I’m looking forward to the weekend.
Hate being inside with the sunshine, now that it’s returned. Fear that I need to get every ray to bolster me for the dark and grim Vancouver rainy season.
All’s well.
I’m thankful for Thursday and that no one is killing themselves.  Suicide is such lonely social terrorism.  Like a bomb going off and everyone around hurt by the blast.
I do like the sunshine today.  Thank you Jesus

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Political Absurdity and Hotel Canada

Just turned on the CBC radio for 1 minute, and heard "Harper is the blame for that!" Didn't bother listening further but hit the Sirius Radio button that gave me praise music.  Justin Trudeau has been prime minister for almost a year now and they continue to 'blame' the past and deny their own accountability like a truant 13 yo child,
The liberals have all but dismantled Canada, shipping billions of dollars offshore, denying our energy industry access to ports, after 50 billion dollars transfer payments per year to Quebec, not requiring Quebec to support the rest of Canada but rather transferring all new contracts to Quebec and letting the rest of Canada suffer.  Justin Trudeau has mostly flitted about the world at taxpayer expense playing Jetsetter Playboy with his dufus wife and her 2 nannies  and taking his in laws along. He's allowed countless terrorists to be brought into the country by not vetting migrants but fast tracking the Syrian Sunni muslems who have already been shown in Europe to be infiltrated by warriors. All accross Canada Muslem Imans are involved in hate speech and Danish muslem migrants are marching in the streets saying kill Danes.  Meanwhile white men and especially pro Israeli jews are being targetted by the politically correct liberal totalitarian regime presently 'fixing' the voter registry to remove 'representative government' in Canada.
Climate change is a political lie without scientific basis and Trudeau, scientifically illiterate as he is, has created a ministry of Climate Change and Environment. This is akin to a ministry of "Leeching and Medicine."  It's as bizarre and unconscionable as the Gotthard Base Tunnel celebration that had former East German communist Merkel watching a neo pagan satanic rite with the celebration of the "horned man'.
Right now Justin Trudeau, has had his bro event with Obama and the Mexican leaders and removed visas for Mexicans despite the cartel criminality and the criminal migration which caused the need for Visas in the first place. Justin Trudeau is in a hug fest with the Communist Chinese leader just like his Mao and Castro loving father Pierre. The attraction of communism is it's totalitarianism, what Lenin called 'dictatorship of the proletariat'.  
There doesn't appear to be any any benefits for Canadians except for the signing of the trade agreements which Mr. Harper indeed created, for instance the Ukraine Canada.
Countless billions of dollars were promised for infrastructure spending , the so called 'modest deficit' but this money has gone offshore and been used as payback for Liberal cronyism.  The country is indebted, just like it was by Pierre Trudeau for generations to come, the young paying and their children paying for the Trudeau accounting scandal.  Make the grand children pay!!!  School debts rise, no one but the rich and elite can afford housing and there is general unrest which is concealed by the propaganda media which refuses to report anything but 'pro Trudeau' 'fashion' adverts.
In the US Hillary has been caught breaking the law and letting her emails go unsecured and thereby causing death and destruction to US offshore interests. She apparently is as sexy as her husband Bill but her preference is the Saudi Hunan whose 'beard' husband sent pictures of his penis around Washington.  As a friend said, the Game of Thrones is tame compared to the Clinton dynasty.  Bernie dropped out of the race and Trump remains republican.  Behind the scene billionaires puppeteers are pulling the strings and UN military vehicles are being sighted all over the mid west. The Mid west is where New York Hillary Clinton destroyed the mostly rural incomes of the predominantly Republican citizenry in the classic "White Water Scandal " which was thought to be the 'flagship' for the Fanny May and Goldman Sack destruction of the world economy for profit.
Only Iceland jailed it's bankers. Wall Street continued and trembles because Trump has threatened to 'audit the IRA".  Too many bodies and bribes of all the elite are buried so there is 'satire' constantly in an attempt of undermine the 'populist choice'.  The movie 13 hours, showing the State Department Clinton abandonment of the American ambassador in Libya with the hienous 'Benghazi' scandal has just come out.
Black Lives Matter has held up the Toronto Pride parade and with social terrorism 'extorted' the Pride committee to attack the Police which is what Beyonce has been demanding anyway.
The lies about the shooting of blacks by police are so extraordinary that Goebbels is definitely writing the script.  Orlando , Islamic terrorists stage another massacre and Obama appears to cry crocadile tears though when a black criminal is killed attempting to kill a cop the White House mourns as if Lincoln were shot.  Meanwhile more cops are killed by the Black Lives Matter supporters and the new black panther supporters.
French authorities say France is on the verge of civil war as migrants rape children and the police don't respond. The hundreds of women raped and sexually assaulted in Cologne Germany are told to stop being racist by criticizing Islamic men who call western women whores.  The Rotherham child sexual exploitation scandal saw 1200 children raped and sexually assault by gangs of Islamic men and the police and authorities covered it up.
The Left has lost all moral relevance as their ideology is simply described as dictatorship of the Sharia Communism.
The new Phillipine leader is killing the Islamic pirates who were beheading Canadians while Justin Trudeau took selfies of himself after screaming in the once hallowed Canadian parliament "Get the fuck out of my way!"
Pot is yet to be legalized in Canada but pot dispensaries are everywhere.  Further supervised opiate injections sites are spreading across Canada as fast.
Canada is the new money laundering location for the world with every suspicious character buying million dollar plus properties in Canada and leaving them vacant.
Taxes are rising exponentially.  The air we breathe is being taxed with the new Carbon Tax that claims carbon dioxide , what we exhale needs taxing. Soon their will be a meter on the urinals and toilets to assess individual tax potential while Hydro meters blame Canadians for the humungous corrupt energy rips offs by the Ontario liberal leaders.
Canada's dollar is 75 cents on the American.  Canadians lost a quarter of the savings this year and no one gets it. Their pension plans are being taken by the Liberals and those who are the working middle class will be pushing Safeway carts and Superstore carts left for them by the better housed migrants and drug addicts.  Veterans have no say in Canada today.  Pensioners are told they can have marijuana or physician assisted suicide.

It doesn't look good.
But that' the irony and humor of the theatre d'absurd.

Justin Trudeau and Canada are the biggest joke.  The emperor has no clothes but the corrupt media, especially CBC, communist broadcasting corporation, continues to spin the lies.

Welcome to Hotel Canada, it's a lovely place!!!!