This is all heavenly. Yet I’m mostly bumbling through the routine, coming alive after I’ve used the toilet. I like brushing aside my hair and splashing water on my face before I shave. Then it’s getting out of the night clothes , changing into shorts or sweats and a t shirt. I take the garbage , pick up my keys and put the leash on the ecstatic dog. He jumps up paws out, smile on his face, hardly unable to contain himself long enough for me to snap on the leash.
The morning is truly glorious. Somewhere around the block breathing deeply I have a surge of gratitude. When the sky is blue and the sun is rising it’s truly glorious. Yet my mind goes quickly to the errands and war.
Frazerview RV , James Epp, and Diana Smith continue to torment me. Tens of thousands of dollars years of work and savings I put into buying a camper from them and they sold me a defective unit whose deficiencies only became apparent when an accident uncovered the damaged unit sold to me. The insurance assessor insists it was there before the accident. I’d had the unit only a couple of years without any problems. Now Frazerway blames me for their failure to. The very unit that was to give me joy and peace and vacation in my older years still struggling to save lives has become a living nightmare. Leaving work where I deal with insaniety I come home to deal with sociopathic behaviour the likes I encountered in the jails and asylums when I daily cared for the dangerously insane. Diana Smith talks like the psychopathic women I knew on locked wards. Manipulative and deceitful she is the wicked witch of the west but no doubt believing herself always the victim. She speaks like someone who drinks and smokes dope but she might be in a church choir thinking herself righteous because she believes herself to be serving family. The justifications were the same for the mafia. Arendt called the state of mind ‘the banality of evil’.
I ask God, why do I think of this when it’s a miraculous day of Glory and the world is sacred. I ask Jesus to help me escape from the association with this darkness. I’ve worked all week and struggled with serving so many and been paid so little. I imagine the clever businessmen and politicians in Canada gloating at how they have a world class health care system with doctors who well trained yet Frazerway RV does shoddy work and preys on the old and professional.
I’m doomed to these negative thoughts then look at the glory of creation and the celebration of nature. I love the bird songs in the morning. Carpe diem my mind shouts.
I will go to war and scream no prisoners next week. I will call my lawyer, a wise and brilliant man and ask his help. I will turn to the marketting and IT folks and raise holy hell. I will go Old Testament. I’ve turned my cheek seventy times seventy. It’s Pride Week and time to unleash the darkness on Diana Smith, James’s EPP and Frazerway RV. It’s always been good when I accept it’s war and a good day to die. Standing before the mast in hurricanes, facing down the charge of bears, fighting all out in surgery to save the life, it’s always been good when I accept that generosity of spirit, time and money have not solved the problem because the evil is so entrenched. I can speak in terms of science, the sterile language of secularity, the deficits in neurodevelopment, superego lacunae but I prefer the old language. Calling a person demon passed is more richly descriptive than saying their frontal lobes are dopamine deficient and their judgement is grossly lacking.saying they are genetically defective is not nearly as accurate as saying the sins of their fathers have been passed to them and their karma or divine retribution will infest their children and their children. I don’t even have to curse for the hurting of shaman even through stupidity is a cursed endeavour. It goes again spiritual laws. By natural law they’d not have lived this long and their genetic strain would be erased. But we are civilized today.
I prefer peace. I prayed and meditated this morning and loved the depths of serenity. I will return to that.
Rather than staying in my camper this week I’ve taken rooms at the Beach Hotel in Harrison’s Lake. Laura, a grandmother and medical office manager has coped through the rage and fear of Covid. I bought the camper for her, despite being armed and licensed and trained in weapons she grew uncomfortable with age staying in the tent and campground when I left in the quad. All the guys call it “Laura’s tent”.
This weekend at Harrison’s we will luxuriate in the sun. I long to swim in the lake even it it will be icy. More costs after the Europe trip and education that served my continuation of work. I’m required to do learning as are all doctors but businessmen like Frazerway and their employees rest on their laurels and simply don’t keep up with the quality demanded of us . There is so little reciprocity. My friend says he’s frustrated that in his work he’s well into the 21st century but dependent on an infrastructure in Frazer Valley that centuries old. I’ve been reading MRI’s and PET Scans and already learned ultrasound. When I began there was only X-rays. I have been reading the latest research in joy and incorporating it in my practice.
I’ve been offered higher pay less stressful work in the east and south. I ask God have these theives been sent so I will leave to find my own Cappadocea or Meteora. Is this a message to leave as the coming Pacific War with China and the nuclear attacks are imminent. Is it time to go inland. The cost of housing and life here is exorbitant as the criminal class have taken over Frazer Valley, gangs and drugs and money laundering through housing and casinos. The federal gun laws aim to protect the criminal class.
It is my mind that is in error. It’s a brilliantly sunny day after cloud and rain and winter seeping through spring. I have taken 25 year cake for sobriety and shared my story of experience ,strength and hope. I’ve given gratitudes for all the gifts of recovery these last 25 years sober. A sub speciality exam, a solo sail across a winter Pacific ocean, a motorcycle expedition across the US, trips to Israel, Ethiopia, Italy, Ireland, Britain, so much learning, so much praise, briefing parliament, meeting prime ministers, friendship with Colonels and Generals, continued love affair with Laura, dogs and cats, shooting moose and elk and fishing so many salmon, such good times. Always friends and family. The funerals and weddings and baptisms. It’s all been grand. Miracles. The sacred.
I once was suicidal completely unable to get my wife to get help, her drug addiction and depression and deceit and rage all manifested with covert aggression and self destruction. When I said my ‘life is unmanageable’ I would have the Freudian slip and say ‘my wife is unmanageable.’ I’ve not married again. I can’t be in the pressure cooker again of going to work to deal with the raw emotion of dozens with fingernails scraping glass only to return to insaniety worse than anything I saw at the clinic as she refused to go to treatment, see a psychiatrist or discuss her anger at her mother with someone. Now I know it was her drugs more than anything. She’d passed that invisible line. I’d actually liked that she had her own supply of marijuana when I met her. I’d like to smoke dope on vacation. She was enchanted by my having a doctor friend with a grow op. Unfortunately I think her love of cocaine finished us. I stopped wine, Marijuania and tobacco too late. She continued to use. She also didn’t work when she was drinking and drugging. I had the motif work hard and play hard, War then RR but she just blended it all together. In the end it was all just hollow and mean. She was so dangerous. Today I feel totally helpless when I’m up against that kind of wall in my personal life. I can help others in my doctor role but when I come home to the depths of despair and that rage. So many years I walked on eggshells around her. Today I am blessed and pray she too found solace. I reminisced on all the people I knew in UBC who had drug and alcohol problems decades back but like me stopped and sought help. Today the old addicted department I was in is a place of light and genius. I like the people there so much and admire the well deserved accolades.
I know my cowardice today. I can climb mountains, sail oceans ,face all manner of contagious disease, sit in a locked quiet room talking to a person who has murdered but I’m afraid of a woman in my home. A nurse girlfriend years ago attacked me in my sleep pounding my face and choking me because I told her I was leaving. She ‘d also been the one who put needles in the condoms and blamed me that ‘I made her do it.” We’d only dated weeks and she told me, “my mother always wanted me to marry a doctor.”
I’ve actually been blessed. The life I lead and the women I loved were the best. When I think of the alternatives I escaped I think of all those poor men in my practice who told me they were regularly flogged and damaged because ‘when I let her hit me she doesn’t hurt the children so much”.
I think I’d tolerate it all more if the constant aetheist Marxist lies weren’t pouring out of the State Broadcasting or the country’s leader wasn’t such an evil little scheming buffoon. I’m weary after two years of Covid and Lockdowns with all the disinformation and misinformation.
But then I look at the light coming through the blinds and literally dancing on the camel hair carpet I brought back from Instanbul.. I’ve been so blessed. I’ve known so many miracles , truly, and life itself is a miracle. God is good all of the time. I’m living in the sacred. I am learning acceptance and fate. I’m learning patience too. I’m enjoying being here. I have gained an appreciation of my back yard. Without a camper and with the obscene price of gas and the thorough incompetence of federal government it’s okay to sit outside in the sun and read. I love drinking the Ethiopian Yergicheffe coffee I roast myself. I loved encountering it outside the shrine where the tapestry of the Black Jesus was. I sat underneath coffee trees and had a cup of java made for me by a pretty young girl as fish eagles flew overhead. I’d just seen a family of hippotami for the first time and I didn’t get falciparum malaria which I’d so feared getting. Yet I went into that area of greatest risk on pilgrimage . Thank you YESHU . Now whenever I drink coffee I’m reminded of the sacred times, the monasteries and the kindly people.
God is good all of the time. Please Jesus what is it I am to learn. Let this stop. Save me.
Help me to see only the light and wonder of your love. Help me to focus on the good. Help me to devote my attention to the humor and joy of the little ones as they engage with life. Help me to be as wise and loving as my parents and all the mentors and elders I’ve been so blessed to know. Thank you for my teachers Lord.
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