Trying Tuesday

I had fine dreams almost didn’t want to leave that place of refuge with sail boats and friends and forests. The dog with with me and when I awoke he was curled up beside me.  Thank God for Madigan.  

Now I’m sort of grumpy. I glanced at Facebook and saw the ugly face of politics.  Then that little Hitler character the PM was celebrated by the UNIPRESS which now tries to throw a bone to the dog to suggest there’s balance.  It’s us and them. As Freud said, “Maybe the Paranoids are Right”.  Empire and peasants.  It’s all really far above my pay grade. Each day I wake in box of a day. I focus on the present. I do the next right thing. I serve. I try to avoid thinking. Fear surrounds me. I’m in the valley of the shadow of death.  I fear no evil for thou art with me. I’m plagued by doubts but cling to God.  There’s love and hope.  God is good all of the time.

I just walked Madigan. After his worm medication his stools have been full and formed. His appetite is better.  

My furnace is working fine. Kevin from Travco is coming over later to replace the sensor. Last night he found that the old one didn’t have electricity. No reason.  Just a glych. I fight glyches daily with software and hardware of the virtual reality.  Communication by phone and computer.  Usually some 10 people a day I see and solve their complex problems. I’m a wealth of experience and training.  Yet I’m daily thinking of fishing and hunting and driving about in the south in a sarong ‘carefree’.  I don’t want to spend another winter in Canada. But soon the spring and summer will be here and I’ll forget the pain of winter delivery .  I was down in December.  Now I’m awakening and thank God I’ve a learning vacation planned in Scotland, England and France.  

I’ve plane tickets, hotels, and today will ask Thaun Vo, my favourite insurance fellow for travel insurance for Laura and me. I was pleased to exchange some Canadian money for Stirling and euros.  Ive begun packing my bag. I put the slippers in there.  I am still hoping to get a Nikon Coolpix A1000 as back up to the iPhone 13 camera.  I did download maps and guides to the iPhone.  I had considered getting another gps with Europe city maps but that would have been $500 and the offline maps were total $29.  I’m pleased with my choice.  I contacted Ralf’s about the satellite phone.  I took it to Moscow and there was some limit on it’s use. I’ve asked if it will be of benefit in Europe.  I took out my Hamm hand held 2 m radios then decided that it would be hassle with other languages. This week I’ll try to see if I can connect them to the computer so I would have capacity for texting with Hamm here.  I don’t think I’ll take them overseas. I’ve cell and wi fi and I’ll be in cities so communication will not be a problem.

Of course Russia and NATO are standing off at the Ukraine border so uncertainty reigns.  The China Seas have been a flashpoint for a couple of years and really where I believe the next war/sales bazaar will take place.  The real Olympics and who gets the after war sales.  Dessert Storm Arms Bazaar lead to the collapse of the USSR because their war materials were inferior to the west.  I like the Canada makes the best bullet proof cars protecting all the tyrants of the world while encouraging us to use paper straws to save the planet. No one ever mentions the environmental cost of war and all the vegans are involved in that industry. I liked reading Jordan Peterson’s comment, if you think the strong man can be savage you have not yet met the weak man in power.

I just read that King James who promoted and funded the King James Bible was the great witch killer in Scotland and a flagrantly gay individual who somehow still had children.  In those days they didn’t have DNA and certainly Trudeau hasn’t offered to have a DNA test even now we have the capacity to decide paternity.  Maggie looks out of a drug baked haze adoringly. 

I’ve no children.  It’s defined my life.  The choices would be so much fewer with children. My dog limits my flights of fantasy.  Laura is now suggesting a cat and that too would reduce the choices.  How can I fit a cat on a motorcycle.

I’m looking forward to writing about travels, art and the ideas that arise from seeing other cultures.  

I dream of driving about the US following Steinback’s Travels with Charley lead. I’d have Madigan and I’d clear my head. Daily I’m bombarded with negativity and fear.  Everyone is depressed and sad and lost. I’ve said it before in my next life I want to be a talent scout so people will show me their best song and dance. Now I see the worst rehearsals and the lowest forms of life, sickness at it’s worst.  I supposed it was good given my optimism and energy to share it wilt those without, my Christian duty. But now I’m growing old and long to write

The difficulty is that novel writing is dialogue and I don’t like putting in quotations.

What do you think, Bill, is novel writing mostly dialogue.

It is

‘But you don’t like quotations. 

Well yes. I prefer the run on paragraph

It’s your Irish stream of consciousness at work

I thought it was the carry over from smoking dope and dropping acid

It’s the spiritual oneness too, don’t forget that.

A bit of it is merely Scottish rant.

I pontificate and don’t like that. I must develop different voices for a novel.

there’s the girl voice, the man voice, the woman voice. 

I really should be writing dialogue in all my writing these days to develop some new skills.  I journal enough.

I like her breasts, she said.

Do lesbians like breasts too?

Of course.

Well guys like cocks.

The cock is a very nice thing. Unfortunately it’s attached to a man, she said.

I love looking at the female face. I can’t say I’m as attracted by the male face.

I am, she says, it speaks protection and strength to the estrogens.  I think sexual attraction is driven by hormones and the womb.

‘yet I’ve spoken to gay men and they literally are attracted to the identical men women are.  

There’s the appeal of youth too.  

That must be hormonal.  

They continued their walk in the park looking out over the sea.  Neither thought anything of their lack of discernible features. Two ghosts in the morning mists.

It began with everyone dead , he said.

‘they’re all dead.” 

I can’t imagine that much blood outside of an OR. I saw my fair share of blood there.

I didn’t think psychiatrists did surgery

You’re thinking of psychologists.  Psychiatrists begin their careers with their hands literally in vaginas and their fingers up assholes. It makes us less accessible than psychologist who really shouldn’t be with patients naked. The psychologists are very appealing to the sterile youth of the rest afraid of bodily function and viruses.  I’m too familiar with faces and blood splashing on my face. I relate more to the third world immigrants to the west who’ve been raised in untidy surroundings to the modern ‘politically correct’ and easily ‘triggered’ western youth dependent on their view of reality through an Xbox with clean sheets and the only squalor known being the collection of pizza boxes , roaches and beer cans.  My refugee friends have seen dead bodies waiting for someone to take them out of the streets, bloating and attracting birds.  

I hadn’t realized. I thought of all shrinks and therapists and such as the same.  

I know.  That’s becoming the appeal. The mother invasion into the field. All the kindly hand holding sorts.  I miss the Karen Hornet sorts who were as smart as Freud and could hold their own in a down and dirty debate.  Freud , you say women have penis envy. I’d say instead Men have Womb Envy.  I think she’s right .  

I think I have ‘autism spectrum disorder’.  I got the first of these this year and wondered what this was about. Perfectly innocent but when bright accomplished folks with friends and good grades start ‘seeking the diagnosis’ it makes one wonder. It’s become fashionable in women’s magazines. The mothers are fearful of missing it. The diagnosis is at war with other competing diagnosis. It was like the days when the Mood Disorder fought the thought disorder and everyone was bipolar. Only days before the world of mental illness was schizophrenic thought disorder. Then suddenly everyone was bipolar and there was a fight to the death between pharmaceutical companies producing tranquilizers and others producing mood stabilizers.  I entered that forum carrying the flag of trauma and personality disorder . Then I added the flag of head injury , neurocognitive disorder and addiction. Now out of nowhere there’s autism spectrum disorder breaking out of the child psychiatry box following the ADD spearhead and all manner of folk are wanting to be diagnosed autistic.  Antisocial but without the bad behaviour. The schizoid personalities and dependent personality disorders and borderlines looking for a new resting place.  I then found out that the government was giving students $4000 a year for the diagnosis of Autism and universities were giving ‘special accomodations’.  The universities are marketting educations and overselling their arts degrees and fine arts degrees worse than Nike and Nestle.  Now the failing student can become an A student with ‘support’.  It’s all about privilege too. A new way of looking at things.T hey think but they forget when the mad Marxists danced naked about the bleeding virgins screaming ‘we turned Hegel on his head’. Of course they did. The Visigoth’s cheered as they entered Rome. Only much later did I realize the ‘barbarians’ were the Celts and my forebears and we let women lead us and the Roman and Jewish armies were purely patriarchal.  Now we’re all facing false flags.  Communism , the religion of aetheism, worshipping the State joined with the patriarch Muslim religion, the Mood God and the Sun Gods and Christianity have become ‘effete.’  I liked the religion robust and appealing to the Roman Centarians.  What was it about Jesus that made soldiers follow him whereas today soldiers run from the simpering church where angry women gather to cry 

I could put these words into the mouths of ducks and write a great children’s tale. I could do a book of competing bushes and trees. I could write an great hero’s journey for an adolescent and teach that the right wing of politics and the left wing of politics are just illusions for the beak and belly of the bird which plucks out the eyes of rebels .

I’d rather be a student and study mythology. I weary of chemistry. I’ve got doctorates in science and recently studied genetic code for weeks to update myself to present day to see the lies .  Now I’m disillusioned. An old warrior sloughing towards Bethlehem. The beast.  

I stay clear of the young and pure. My mind has been soiled by years of talking to pedophiles , the violent, rapists and victims and seeing the trauma of cigarette burns on bodies and the lash’s scars of whips and bullets and knives.  

There is a soldier I saw who was wounded meany times and I fear I didn’t serve him well for he trusted me and I couldn’t relieve the pain. He blamed himself for war.  The girls blamed the men.  They never studied matriarchies or knew that the Iroquois who relished torture were ruled by women.  The didn’t know the celts. They were writing Huffington Post articles from the safety of big daddy and blamed the white man while the black man had a hundred women slaves many of then white.  Now the congress is full of girls blameing america for the ritual rapes and clitorectomies performed in their country where their anger would merely lead to death so they kill the messenger and destroy the mirror that freed them.

Who cares. They’re all dead and the past is past and I’m walking alone on an empty planet with my dog who wonders why I dig about in lost technology of a past that died out a thousand years ago when New York was just a market.  It wasn’t bombs that destroyed the world but ideologies and silliness. I’m alone. Except for my dog.  I’m still looking for something.  Royalist or veterans or a tribe. Something.  Alienation.  

Vanity.

I meant to write diaglogue.  I wanted a hovercraft and a flying car and a thicker suit that fit like silk but wore like jeans.  

They were more interested in make up and parties when the hoards swept through Rome. 

Now the court is full of marketting men and script writers and men with money and no personality seek out those who celebrate the narcissists and the narcissists long to be called autistic so they can be self centred and not feel bad about it.  Everyone is ‘reframing’.  It’s all in a label. The DSM is a fashion signature.

-she said as she adjusted the strap of her bra standing in the hotel room dressing after leaving him mindless on the well made bed.  He dreamed of praying mantis that night alone in the Holiday Inn.

There was smells of peonies and gladiolus and black squirrels and red brown squirels chased away the pretty pink and blue birds who’d long forgotten they were dinosaurs.  The insects were said to have no feelings but that was merely convenient. Bugs were as fearful as the little girls killings spiders and demonizing mouse.  It’s easier to embrace a person on the other side of a computer screen or in the pages of a book. One doesn’t want to touch the sweaty.  

I like the scent of her.  She thinks its the perfume but it’s the phenomena.  You can’t smell them but my loins stir in her prescience.  We’re too old for children. The ancient photo copying codes are chuckling reminding us. She’s had so many babies.  I’m special.  One off. A deletion. A walking abortion. I survived the early cut but never made the team. I’m outside as only the sterile and eunuchs are. She aborted the baby and he fucked me to rub it in.  I only wanted God and I knew he was of and not of this place. I was talking to an Interdimensional cat at the time and we were both playing jokes on the dog who didn’t understand metaphor. 

The concrete thinkers are on the rise again and war is imminent. War and rumours of war.  Give peace a chance is all I say. I’m so thankful they’re building space stations and expanding outward rather than fighting over oasis with machine guns on the back of camels.  

A new day dawns and I don’t know what I’m going to do when I grow up. Follow the script. It was written long and ago and it allows for another coffee and a yoghurt at this time.

 

New Monday

Monday’s usually feel ‘used’.  They start out tired and worn. I just get through them. Today I’m going to make Monday a new day. It’s not the first day of a week of work.  It’s the day I meet joy. I will live and love this Monday. Already I’ve greeted Madigan. He woke me by moving closer and lying up against me. Such affection. I’m pretty special to him.  When I’m not around apparently he whines. When I’m here he kind of bullies me so it’s a funny roommate arrangement. I’m the parent.  I was odd with my parents this way as a teen.  He’s a puppy still. Just moving into his second year.

It’s the last day of January.  This February I’m going to Scotland with Laura and that’s exciting.  I love these abrupt changes of pace. Right now I’m in work mode, maintaining routine.  Regular hours. Alarms.  Sitting at my desk.  Seeing or listening to one patient every 45 minutes.  Writing notes.  Struggling with the ancient medical software and all the glyphes of the 80’s .  Last week I replaced the printer again. 5 printers in 2 1/2 years of covid.  This one isn’t yet working with the Network.  Some glych.  

On the weekend the propane sensor died. I’ve Keven from Travl coming today or tomorrow to replace. In meantime I got out my electric blanket.  Turned the propane low. Glad the weather is getting warmer. Still, frost on the Harley cover.

Madigan had a good poop. He had his worm pills on the weekend after the vaccinations at the vet. He puked later.  I cleaned it up.  My carpets need cleaning. A summer job.  I was thankful he had well formed stool. I believe the worms were eliminated.

I did pull out the Hamm radio. I contacted Ralf’s about using the Satellite phone in Europe. It hadn’t worked in Moscow because I needed something unlocked for overseas.  I don’t know that I need it. I’m taking cellphone ipad and laptop.  I do like that this trip provides meaning and purpose. In my head I’ve been without direction, psssing time, working, paying bills.  I’m in a kind of limbo. I was ready for a 3 months travel about the US with my camper and truck or a month or two vacation north hunting and fishing. I’d like to avoid winter next year with more time south. I’m still working. It seems reasonable. It’s not so uplifting but useful.  There’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing. The question is only if it’s the ‘best’.  

Thank you Jesus for this day. Thank you Jesus for all the blessings. Christ watch over my family and friends and help them this day. Help me to be a better doctor and serve my patients well.  Thank you.. 

Sacred Sun Day

The Sabbath was on Saturday but Constantine a Sun God worshipper despite becoming the first Christian emperor decreed that Sunday would be the day of worship.  Those Christians who worship on Saturday, despite being true to Christ are called ‘fringe’ and ‘minority’.  Politics is ever the choice of the least bad alternative. Continued persecution of Christians or accepting Constantine who hedged his bets on the ‘unseen God’.  

Yahweh, the Hebrew name of God, means ‘beingness’.  God is all.  St. John said ‘in the beginning is the Word’.  The sound of Om and the Celestial Spheres play throughout the physics of the String theory.

At old age I ask what it is I’m still here to accomplish.  I carry water and haul wood. I breath with great delight each day.  I lost some of my sense of smell leaving me extremely grateful for what I still have.  The rain is falling now. I”d just returned from walking Madigan, the cockapoo. Thankfully I was dressed but hadn’t done more than done blouse and skirt and there was Anna at the door with the collection of the mere cats. Anna is the Great Mother. She has 5 children, four she bore and one the child of her husband and their father Kevin. She had brought me golden scarf she had kniftted and a pink one for Laura.  We are blessed. 

Meanwhile the kids are trying to meet Madigan the puppy who is standing back cautious and uncertain but very curious. He’s not been around children much and only met these few and his nephews Covid does that. Keeps us apart.

Meanwhile I see these god children and Omnicron and long for the time of the Terrors to be over.  

In medieval times all in the village had to worthship the same way because if there was dissension by one this would anger the gods.  The Minority sould bring on the majority the wrath of primitive God.  God loves. God is all. But those who insist they know want God to be like them. God made in their eyes. Not the mystery. Not the great unknown. Not the father and the mother. Rather the ‘me’ God.  The God of this world. The State as God. All much worship as I do.  

Yesterday the Truckers convoyed to Ottawa objecting to the forced mandate and increasing government overreach.  The emergency powers of Covid are being extended by the cow Trudeau.  I don’t see what women see in him. His voice alone is so false, a grade B, porn star actor with a penchant for little girls.  He has made friends of the Godless Communists and the Muslims dictators whose people have never had the bravery of the Magna Carta. There is no Story of Wallace in the Middleeast.  The Jihadi is like the Borg. Last night I enjoyed watching the Viking episode when the Norseman with their Queen and shield maiden warriors invades the Saracen lands of Spain. I’ve just read of the Christians expelling the corrupt Berbers from Europe.

Now the United Nations Agenda 21 has allowed so many military aged men to move into Germany.  But then Germans have been taught self loathing and finance for decades.  It’s an odd politics with Putin and Russia on the border of Ukraine.  Here in Canada the Ukrainians are such a force like the Hong Kong and Taiwanese Chinese. Even so Xi Jinping having let the Covid 19 Frankenstein virus spread from the Wuhan Lab to wreck havoc on the world, turns out more aircraft carriers to claim the China Sea.   Communist China seems on the verge of collapse like USSR once was and a Republic is born.  Russia and China agree to make a Moon Base as the US goes forward with theirs. The new North America of Columbus time is in Outer Space.  

I consider life and pleasure.  Everything in moderation or else we call it a ‘sin’, a missing the mark

Cardinal Sins

1.PRIDE

2. GREED

3. WRATH

4. ENVY

5. LUST

6. GLUTTONY

7. SLOTH

These contrast the Heavenly Virtues

1. HUMILITY

2. CHARITY

3. PATIENCE

4. GRATITUDE

5. CHASTITY

6. TEMPERANCE

7。DILIGENCE

Looking at these lists I don’t feel very spiritually advanced.  I”m humbled.

Just read the most common deadly sin confessed to priests is lust for men and pride for women.  

I’d say I’m doing okay on humility but that’s an oxymoron there.  Charity I’m passing. Patience I am definitely ahead of yesterday.  Gratitude I’m doing flying colours at time.  Chastity failing. Temperance failing but okay with Diligence

So must working on Chastity and Temperance.  If I looked at the actual number of lustful thoughts or actions I’m doing really well compared to teens and twenties. Age is a distracting factor. I’ve a lowered libido, less interest, I’ve indulged in everything I every considered so like Buddha the desire is simply not there. I’ve a bad habit of eating and watching TV.  It’s not so much what I’m doing today that bothers me as what I’m not doing. I don’t feel the drive to achievement and am more or less muddling along. 

I continue to work and work is dharma, prayer, and definitely ‘right livelihood’ so that’s good. I ‘get by’.  With lockdowns and covid and isolation and the steady attack on all by my own government and the ignorance of neighbour or befuddled apathy I feel I’m ‘surviving’ and even ‘thriving’ at moments.  I described my planned trip to my grandfather’s home, the search for roots, the answering of the question ‘what next’.  I have done my years of the ‘profession’ and ‘calling’ of medicine but the College has reduced the role of clinician to a ‘job’ and I sometimes feel I’m contributing to their pride and evil. I no longer feel I’m on the ‘A” team.  I feel even Canada now is an increasingly third world country brought low by the corruption and utter evil of national leadership.  Right now I’m Don Quiote. I’m also old and Doystoyevski comes to mind and Tolstoy and Somerset Maugham.  I was fascinated by the mother and child representation of art with with Ageism everywhere I might well be reflecting on the old.  I say I don’t know what I’m going to do when I grow up. Retirement looms and yet I continue to work.  I call my trip and movement now ‘kedging’. I feel with last year I was on a shoal.  I wonder about sailing again. Crossing the Atlantic or sailing to the Caribbean often pass through my mind but mostly I think of an RV and camper.  Recently I thought again of the hunting and fishing trip through northern BC.  I wondered about another year of moose meat barbecue.  There’s a possibility.  I just don’t know. I’m in limbo and without a plan do the same old same old. 

Frosty Friday

Frost on the cover of the Harley.  Clear fresh air. I gave thanks for that first deep breath. I looked at Madigan looking at me under the mop of hair and smiled. I’m blessed to have such a good friend.  He sleeps with me at night on the bed his little butt pressed up against my side. I wake to « I believe’. It’s Friday. I have a little work to do this morning and take Madigan for his vaccines and boosters this afternoon. 

I’ve errands to run.  Getting ready for Scotland.  It’s given meaning and purpose to my life lifting me out of the winter doldrums of listening to the grief and despair brought by the lockdowns.  I’m concerned about several sick friends. Life goes on. Heart attacks happen.  Hips break.  Discussing loss with a friend whose day is changed since his sponsor died and the daily phone calls ended.

I took a picture of tulip shoots yesterday. Hope. Today it was the beautiful pastel sunrise.  Politics persists.  It’s not the thing of morning breathing and meditation. I’m watching Vikings and no doubt life is better today.  We live longer. The idea of looking forward to slaughter doesn’t jump to mind. I’m reading the history of Scotland and it’s constant wars between clans and invasions by England. Peace is good.  I’m pleased I can work from home and feel safe here.

Propane came yesterday. I thank the man who filled the bottles I left out front.  It’s a great convenience.  Last winter two bottles lasted a week at the worst. This year it was four. Now I ‘m back to 2 and 3.  Very costly with inflation and gouging taxes to pay for the national government corruption.  

I recommend Monty Python’s « Always look on the Bright Side of Life ».  No wonder Buddha said Desire is the root of suffering.  I remember that an ‘expectation is a preformed resentment’.  I make plans but know God is in charge.  I hope for the best. I pray for the best.  I’m blessed today. I am still able to get down on the floor and exercise. It always reminds me of seeing my father doing this when he was 10 years older than I am today. What an inspiration that man was.  I liked planting trees with my brother who didn’t believe he’d see the fruits of his labours. Now I look at pictures of his grandchildren.  My great nephews are so cute.  Life goes on. The Old Cliche.  

Thank you Jesus. Thank you Creator. As Paramahansa Yogananda taught « I bow to the saints of all religions. ». May I know you more and more today God and may I do thy will. Thank you. 

New Day, new week

Madigan and I just saw Laura off. Having her over for the weekend was wonderful.  Good excuse to do little, chat, watch tv, do errands and eat great meals.  Madigan was in heaven. Laura is his mommy but he forgets at times with his psychotic puppy brain and thinks she’s his girlfriend, trying to hump her leg when I’m not watching.  Aim called Gilbert ‘the humper’.  I’m thinking this is why young males get kicked out of the cave.  In fairness he’s actually learning the commands ‘no’, and ‘down’. 

It really was great having this time together. The Saturday outing was a trip to a couple of Bosley’s looking for his favourite Tikki food, specifically Greece, and a new water bottle attachment for trips in the truck

Linda Nankov at Flight Centre organized our holiday accommodation with no penalties if we had to cancel 48 hours before. With Covid and quarantine rules I didn’t want to be ‘locked’ into a hotel room.  

Thaun Vo at Rand and Fowler who takes care of all my vehicle insurance is arranging for us to have travel insurance .  It was exciting to be planning with Laura.

Then the two of us began thinking of camping this summer.

Last month it was so bleak. I had difficulty getting out of bed and getting through the day.  It’s the sun’s effect. 

I even charged the battery on my Harley. It was a time as usual to try and find how to remove the seat to get to the battery but I found the battery charger without difficult and the ratchets and screw driver. The whole process went without a glych.

We were sorry to hear a friend had a heart attach when the heart arteries were already too small for a stint. He had emergency open heart surgery and now has a 6 month recovery period. We’re so glad he lived. He’s a wonderful man.  So many of these guys with a ‘big heart’ seem to care for everyone till their actual heart bursts.  I’m pleased he didn’t work himself to death and I’m really pleased the scientific advances in cardiology are so advanced.  

We got more gummy vitamins. Laura turned me on to them.  Candy medicine.  I could only find Vitamin D in the Sesame Street brand so that’s what I’ve got.  When I was a kid everything that was good for you tasted terrible.

We even bought Madigan a new thin dog bed he hasn’t eaten yet. He eviscerated both the stuffed ones.  I changed the sheets and comforter covers and pillow cases because Laura was coving over. It really was nice to have clean sheets. I blame her for the work, like I blame her for all the comfort and luxury I add in my life not admitting I really enjoy it too. The joke is the guys call the camper, ‘Laura’s camper’ because she’d done her time tenting and wanted a shower and more protection from the bears.  I love the camper and was pleased to learn this weekend that it will be ready for spring and summer camping.  

It’s so hard to believe how good I feel when before Christmas I was literally crawling on my belly to the finishing line, so disheartened and depressed and fatigued with such a daily grind of chronic pain  Then Harrisons and the hot springs and more time with Laura and now I’m actually feeling joyful and hopeful.

Dr. Bonnie Henry is rolling back the pandemic to endemic status.  The tracking and tracing has finally stopped. I’ll be glad when the lockdowns are totally lifted.  It’s happening in Europe.  

I’m very thankful.  The weather is supposed to be warm like this for a few more days. We had fog with the inversion.  

It’s a new day, a new week, a new year. I wrote a song and played it and recorded it and was thankful people were kind.  I even played guitar again this week.  Too much time is spent on social media.  I’ve been reading a lot of books and watching tv, often with a travel perspective. The History of Modern ARt, the History of Scotland, the Stuart MacBride Scottish detective novels set in Aberdeen, the Louvre.  I completed my MOCOMP cycle successfully again despite 2020 Covid restriction. I may attend the positive psychology conference here in the summer or go to IDAA or both. I’ve so enjoyed attending the IDAA meetings on line, seeing all the old friends, feeling connected.  I’d not realized how disconnected I’d become. It was a bit like early days covid when the Rolling Stones ‘living in a ghost town’ summed it up. Now it’s just the tedium.  The Trucker Drive on Ottawa is taking place. I think Trudeau winning the election was the point when I lost faith in elections and concluded that the digital elections were open to fraud . If smart guys can hack everything else it’s got to be no difficulty hacking elections. Obviously Trudeau is who the Communist Chinese Army wants as Prime Minister.  I think of Wallace Freedom and realize the majority of recent immigrants unlike refugees are economic migrants who don’t share the ‘values’ that we knew as Canadians, « True North Proud and Free. ». Just like every other third world country we have this dictator want to be with all the corruption we once thought was Africa or Asia’s but is now the Canadian model. I talked to South Americans’ and they’re only surprised that we were optimistic.  We watched Matrix Resurrected.  

The truth is within.  The storms come and go like on the boat but the sun shines and fair winds and following seas eventually arrive. Spring is always so beautiful in Vancouver. The daffodils and crocuses and the returning birds.  It’s all so uplifting. 

I’m so blessed. Thank you Jesus. Thank you God of God. Thank you Lord of Lords.  Hallelujah!!!!

 

Sunday with Laura and Madigan

Madigan was in my bed licking my face. Laura beside me. I ignored him so he turned his attention on her. Lo and behold he roused her. Next thing I know they’re going out the door with him for a morning walk.  

Last night I barbecued Costco steaks with potatoes and Brussels sprouts.  A terrific meal enjoyed by Madigan , Laura and me. We watched Matrix Ressurection .  My thoughts create my life and group thought creates reality. The power of propaganda. The blue pill for the state elite reality, we’re just slave batteries providing the machine energy.  The red pill we are ‘free’.  I loved the first Matrix. This is the fourth. I loved that it was co-opted as a ‘video game’.  Corporate consumer reframing.  Love will set us free. I love the romance era.  All you need is love.  

Laura and I did a run to Bosley’s with Madigan. We’re looking for his favourite food and getting toys we can leave with him when we go away. I’ve got a new bed and he immediately lay down on it knowing it was his. So far he hasn’t chewed it. I love hearing that Molly Laura’s sister’s dog is a chewer. I look at my dog like parents look at kids and blame themselves for their misbehaviour.  The only bad company he keeps is me.

I’ve been liking my home.  Bigger than my boat. With better amenities. I lost water in the winter months when the dock lines would freeze and I’d shower at work to conserve water.  Winter now is looking like the worst is past.  I found it a hard winter with covid.  The pool and hot tub was restricted and that was tough given the hot tub is such a source of comfort for my back and swimming my favourite exercise after walking.  We certain do a lot of river walking here. But Madigan and I found more unsavoury types were in the woods and mostly I walked around the park. This was good because Madigan and my friends were doing that to so we’d have these marvellous outings and talks with other guys while their little dogs strutted with the power of the pack.

I did go through a bit in December with anxiety about aging and immobility but thanks to Dr. Reddy the chiropractor I got over that hump with hope and a little more flexibility and less pain. I remember a similar time when I got the hanging upside down contraption. It’s all psychosomatic and I feel like such a whiner.  Self pity.  Anger turned inward. 

Work has been disheartening with so many people having social problems rather than bio psycho problems. The problems are of government and world and so many are just old or marginal and inflation hurts them most. 

I’ve chosen the path that seemed most ‘needed’ and what ‘God’ wanted and not gone for the ‘big bucks’.  Others don’t have the opportunity to turn their back on millions yet I have on several occasions.  Now I wonder.  I’m working and can so easily fall into the trap of comparing. When my friend Peter headed down to Palm Springs I knew I could retire and do the same but no I continue to work because I can.  

Laura works for a doctor who keeps working and I kind of think of being in no rush to change because I imagine travelling south in the RV with Laura. Other days I think of a sex change, or at least breasts and a face lift and wardrobe and Travels with Madigan or Girl like Me riding off into the sunset to be a travel writer.  I don’t know if I need the transgender shift since in the tropics I’m happy living in Sarong or shorts.  With Laura I’m content muddling along even with the prospect of being the old man. We’ll be travelling together for a month and I just enjoy ‘us’.  Yet with the abuse that arose in marriage and dealing with the family insanity having no place to escape for the incessant demands of work and home I fear ever being devoured again.  “I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul’,, the immortal lines of Dylan always come back to me another time.

Today I live in the day.  I know that when I feel anxious it’s because I’m slipping into future thinking and if I’m feeling self pity I’m selectively extracting the negatives from my memory,.

I’ve had an amazing life. I was so blessed with loving caring parents. I was gifted but the school I attended only hurt me so much compared to other gifted children I knew. I was able to learn a lot and had great teachers and the principal not really that bad.  I’ve know far worse administrators especially the lying psychopath hospital administrator and the government health care sociopath administrator. By contrast I was blessed to have Dr. Jack Hildes, Dr. Nady el Guebaly, Dr. Bebchuck as amazing doctors and administrators.  I even loved working with the psychiatrist Dr. Brown.  So when I’m honest my mind goes to the amazing men and mentors I’ve know like Dr. James Houston, Dr. Phillip Ney, men who had run schools, a chancellor and yet good through and through.  When I have misgivings about the leadership and what rises to the top and Peter Principle I can reflect more truly on the likes of Dr. Carl Ridd being a good man and having a senior position. That I didn’t survive the beurocracy was because I didn’t tolerate killing near me. I have stopped a dozen rapes and domestic violence in the community by rushing to assist when I was younger. Older I don’t presume I am needed.  A half dozen plane flights I had to save a life but only after I waited for no other doctor to step forward when the attendants called for a doctor. I remember I rushed forward to volunteer as a young intern.  I was such a ‘do gooder’ and super hero and would have gladly walked away from the man who died because the head of psychiatry made the decision. But when he lied and said he’d not been there and that I’d made the call, I was thankful I’d copied the notes showing it was his order that caused the death not mine.  But the other doctors who looked the other way always remained memorable.  I ‘ve know colleagues who were intelligent and others who were cowards and stupid and worse liars.  I put my life and reputation and career on the line over and over again to protect patients who never knew the forces of evil they were facing.  It’s a weird legacy and I too often focus on the bad guy. The night the hospital administrator wanted me to disconnect my patient so he’d die, screaming at me. Well he called in the head of medicine and the head of medicine backed me and came in at 4 am to tell the hospital administrator that Dr. Hay was doing the ‘right thing’.  Dr . Gutowski did his best to protect me from the quite evil forces that took my ex in her addiction.  

I’ve learned a lot but rather than focus on the positive I’ve a mental illness , broken search engine that pulls up the terror first. I was only held hostage once but that’s where my mind goes. Identification with the aggressor.  The Winnipeg Police who came to my assistance aren’t where my mind goes but rather to the threats and fears. I survived. I thrived and I wasn’t alone.

Yet my mind doesn’t reflect on all the good times and good people. Like the divorced people who dwell on their ex’s at the end and forget the early days and often years of joy. My ex’s were like that, literally years of bliss then something changed and neither of us did the maintenance.  If you want to know why a marriage breaks up it’s almost certain that people stopped doing the annual repairs and the explanation can be found in the final year. All the negatives we put up with in relationships just one day become the point at which we decide to stop throwing good money after bad.  I almost feel guilty if I dwelling on the great passion and kinky sex I had in dating and early marriage, marvellous lustful times of great joy and the wonderful feeling of love and belonging.  

I would have a google that brings forth all the good times first. I’d like to see my mother and father smiling. I remember them laughing camping.I remember my brother and I bicycling.  Such good times.  I loved my brother making me grilled cheese sandwich when he was left to care for me , my parents gone out. I thought he was so brilliant because I couldn’t even be trusted then to work the stove let alone make a wonderful creation like a grilled cheese sandwich. I love remembering my mom patiently untangling my fishing lines or knitting socks.  The wagon wheel stories and hockey days are wonderful

I loved playing at recess with the girls and boys, canoeing at scout camp and the YMCA.  It’s a wonderful story. I’m so blessed and so thankful today.

Madigan is lying outside the bathroom whining and grumpy that Laura is in side having her bath and shower and not including him. It’s a joy to see those two interact. She treats him like a kid, distracting him when he’s up to mischievous. I’m like my father,  loud commanding. It’s hilarious our dog family.  

I am so blessed.  I have sat in nature and church and been touched by the Holy Spirit feeling as if I would burst with the joy. Meditating hours I’ve felt such peace. I used to run and climb mountains.  Sailing oceans. All the images are there in my mind, great swaths of joy and blessing and I’ve search engine that takes me to a petty resentment or a time I was done wrong, the old tribal Celtic revenge porn memory fault.  Today I’d sing the body electric. I loved the beauty of the fog in the park .  It’s still there the naked trees softened by the fog as it filters the light and blurs the vision.  

Thank you Jesus for this day. Thank you God of Gods.  Thank you Lord of Lords.  

Hump Day

Wednesday . Hump Day. I’m pleased I made it. 

I feel burnt out and depressed some days.  The work week is more strenuous. The depression, anxiety and despair is palpable. There are too many calls and demands for letters and forms. Insurance companies, lawyers, all these folk peripheral to health care co opting health care resources.  More and more the patient may die as long as the chart lives. More and more the recording is for administration and not for the patient.  I’m asked to write 15 minutes for every 15 minutes. I see the patient.  Half the health care resources are taken for the bulging administration. Peace time army. I’m feeling lonely on the front lines. Not understood.  So much I read and hear misses the mark I worry. I push back fear. I’m anxious. I’m isolating.  

I used to be sick every winter. I lost a week in sick days, repeated colds through winter. I’d have injuries in summer. This last 2 years of Covid and isolation I’ve had no illness but the psychosomatic back pain that comes and goes. My self pity sometimes.  Get down of the cross, we can use the wood.

I push back the encroaching darkness. Winter is passing and I feel that spring and summer will lift my mood. I’m sun deficient and all day long with negativity takes me back to the place where I say I want to be a talent scout. I want people to come with their best song and dance. But no, I see people at their worst and struggle to rise to the occasion, lending ego. My ego is fragile. Not egotistical ego but the Freudian ego, the executive function that balances the desires of the state and the desire of the child within. I want to run away to the warm and camp. I want to walk in the sand. But I fear if I did I’d not come back.  

Now I’m preparing to walk where my grandfather did.  I wish I’d spent more time with him when I was younger. With age I’ve learned to love and admire and cherish so much I took for granted when I was a child.  

I laughed listening to Jordan Peterson describing the third world scheduling in Canada today, the unreliability of government services like Africa and Asia.  The corruption reeks in high places. I muddle along . It’s been decades since we had lights in the OR.  We operate with candles while the elite fly private jets to orgies.

I have a mind that slips so easily into anger at authority and resentment and fear.  All is God. So what is this anger at God and fear of God. God made Justin Trudeau. God made Hitler. God made George Soros.  God is good all the time. I know these are the manure for the tulips that grow and bloom.  I would not know good without evil. I am taught to forgive. I must forgive the liars in the media. I forgive so my mind isn’t focused on the negative.

I share my experience, strength and hope. I don’t rent my mind out for free to negative. I want my mind focused on the positive. I want to see the goodness. My aunt never said a bad word about people, a great Baptist lady. Her silences were legendary.  She would never utter Trudeau’s name anymore than she would invoke Satan.

So what was good this week. My tired mind jumps to the negative. I did so enjoy the walks with Madison. The air is so fresh after the snow and rain. I’ve enjoyed inhaling deeply in the morning at the beginning of our river walk and thanking the Lord for Breath and Air and Lungs and the lingering sense of smell I retain since the medications took out half my sense of smell years back.  Now I am thankful that my body moves.  I have pain at times but mostly walking I’m free of pain and the old dancer body is uplifted by motion. I feel the joints move and frankly I think my back is angry at the size of my belly. Parts of the body are like siblings. My gut is an elite these days as I suffer gluttony and sloth snacking watching Netflix.

I was thankful for the people who thanked me for my annual songs,  

I’m planning for the trip to Scotland praying that I dont’ get Covid, that the tests are negative and we don’t have to deal with quarantines.  Laura is coming over this weekend for us to make the next step of arranging accommodation and transportation.  I want to see the great accomplishments of man in Museums and Galeries. I want to see the castles of my family. I want to walk in the hallowed hallways of Oxford, that place where I chose to leave the world of dance and theatre and return to scholarship.  I’ve done my time in the trenches of medicine and now hope to reflect and write more.  

It’s time to work.

I’m really blessed. It’s a good day. I must always check my preception like that great book, ‘new pair of glasses’.  It’s my glasses that are dirty and bespectacled not the world and not my life. I simply have to take out the cloth and clean them off to see the glory of God and Gods’ creation. I am so blessed and so thankful to have feeling and breath. I love the colours of creation.  Thank you. I love the story of Jesus.  All is well.  Thank you God.