Another Witch Hunt

In the mid nineties my father was embroiled in the latest town scandal in which he received hundreds of letters because he allowed the Christian rock band "Petra" to play in the local college church in BLUE JEANS. He had threats to his job and hell fire . I did not know it at the time, but apparently I was scrutinized and attacked in some letters too...  For how I dressed in school or whom I associated with and how I conducted myself. My father loved Petra. He played it all the time when I was a child in the 80's. They were cutting edge in the Christian community at the time. Their long hair, ripped blue jeans and 'rock' music rocked the boat in multiple ways.

Since I have been little, I have witnessed many hunts on people due to many things. Growing up in a Christian community there were those who focused on grace and a smaller number who focused on hunting down sin and looking anywhere but themselves. Hypocrisy ran alongside compassion. I had to learn from an early age where to put my value, what words or people I should put stock into, and what hypocrisy looked like. Was it truly the devil in sheeps clothing on those accused as wolves? The outcasts or different or such? Or were the wolves the ones spreading the rumours, taking gossip or here-say and trying to make it truth, and destroying people's lives in the name of "God or goodness"?

My dad loved to blast this song called, "Witch Hunt" that still gets stuck in my head. Petra mostly put it on an album in response to all the Televangelists (at the time) talking about how Rock and Roll had hidden messages of "devil worship." In the 80's there was a huge focus on Satanism and calling out anything that could be remotely aligned with what people thought was "bad." Many innocent people were thrown under the bandwagon in the name of "justice." Lives were ruined or degraded in the name of Jesus. Those who did such things thought they were on the right side of ethics...many of them probably still have such self righteous thoughts. Those who had zero doubts of their morality were the worst. Those who did not look at the log in their own eyes before pulling out the speck in others, perpetuated the worst of the hunts.

"Everybody look there's a new bandwagon in town 
Hop on board and let the wind carry you around 
Seems like there's not enough to keep us busy 'till the Lord comes back."

There will always be another bandwagon to climb on to. Many are worthy in a sense, but anything can be taken to extremes. I got in a lot of trouble as a teenager with some of my friends for standing against aspects of "Christianity." I also got in trouble for speaking for grace or not talking about certain people. I often felt I couldn't win and spent hours alone in my room, detoxing with candles and music. But I am grateful for these experiences. While I would doubt myself often, that healthy questioning led to a solid sense of whom I was and what I stood for. I also learned that I wanted to be open minded when it came to anything... good or bad, before I took any side. I realized the people who hurt my family most, were people who did things in the name of "goodness" and "God." The friend who committed suicide was jaded and gave in to lies of what worth was. Of what made a worthy existence. I realized I never wanted to be so "right" that I was so wrong. I also didn't want to give in to any opinion that was the opposite of LIFE. By life, I mean, anything that is true, beautiful, noble, kind, merciful yet boundary filled and full of love. 

"Don Quixote's gotta have another windmill to attack
Another witch hunt looking for evil wherever we can find it 
Off on a tangent, hope the Lord won't mind it."

Mass hysteria and community panic led to the Witch Hunts of the 1400s- 1700s. Are we repeating them in our own modern way? The stories are absolutely horrifying. Women were targeted but men also received some of the torture and death. Those who were different...midwives, herbalists, the disabled, unmarried, poor...were often the accused. It was unjust. It was repulsive and yet many "upstanding", "morally inclined" "good citizens" in varied communities were the perpetuators of injustice in the name of justice. They were upheld as pillars of society "cleansing" the world of those who are "wrong." 

There WAS a minority of people who WERE evil. Who practiced disgusting rituals and did indeed need justice. But it was such a small minority compared to the evils that were done to the people who were accused unjustly. Most of the fear was unfounded and fed by fantasy gossip. But fear is one of the toughest forces in the world to fight. Many terrible things are done from responses of fear in the name of all that is "just/ right."

Persecution mentality reigned and combined with mass hysteria, death from plagues and wars, and a general state of malevolence in the majority was disguised as righteousness. How did this mass delusion happen? How did the insanity of torturing a woman until she either confessed or died show that she was indeed of the devil? How did this become accepted as standard procedure with citizens either supporting by ignoring it or cheering it on? (If she died during torture she was deemed innocent but if she survived she was burnt at the stake or worse. Either way being accused was basically a death sentence.) 

"Another witch hunt, takin' a break from all our gospel labor 
On a crusade but we forgot our saber."

In Christianity there is a concept of "gospel labour" which is missionary work etc. Much of what Christians have done in the world is good. Many started the anti slavery movements globally, fought for the minority rights in places that were not even their own, and spread messages of love and tolerance. 

Unfortunately, many also joined empty crusades in the "name of goodness". Instead of focusing on the goodness they could plant, they focused on the bad they could correct, take away or sanction/ censor/ educate out of/ cancel in others. The irony of their actions was not understood. The hypocrisy was a label put on anyone but themselves. Is this the type of person I want to be? Is it whom you want to be, no matter what belief system you are a part of?

"There's a new way to spend all our energies 
We're up in arms instead of down on our knees 
Walkin' over dollars trying to find another dime 
Never mind the souls 'cause we really haven't got the time."

In my twenties, my time was spent healing from aspects of my upbringing. In many ways, I had a lot to be grateful for and part of the process was recognizing the ever present "AND/ BOTH." Unfortunately, wounds and trauma can take a lifetime to process but when we allow them to be our main story, the damage is more pronounced. There is a fine line where we learn to BE all that we are, but also fight against the wounds and accept what there is to accept and move forward. Those who are unable to have the support to do so or the ability or choose to be stuck, suffer more wounds and give more wounds to the world. Look to nature. The wounded animal can be the most dangerous. It’s imperative to safely transport it to a place of healing before it wounds itself and others more in its confusion.There were injustices done to myself and my family of loved ones in life. They demanded attention. But now I am thankful for the lessons they created. I can't change what was done, but I can take some good from it. That is my empowerment. That is where I choose to spend my energy. I hope we see SOULS and give the seeing of souls grace filled time.

It is only in my thirties that I have discovered a similar hypocrisy in the non religious environments/people I am part of. That was honestly a shock to me. From about age 25- 35 the non religious friends and environments healed me. In a way, it was so refreshing that no wrong could truly be done in my mind. I found so much excitement, acceptance, and healing from my new communities. It was akin to being newly in love and the first blush of exhilaration, strength, and entwined vulnerability. There is little time for the mundane or daily living. All things fall away in the face of new love. Becoming out of balance, if prolonged, is a large danger.

But as in any long standing marriage can attest to, as we age into things, time unravels the initial endorphins. While that is also real and a needed stage, the next phase in marriage takes it deeper. It is natural to mellow into the relationship. A new joy of comfortability emerges. But we also see the flaws we were blinded to before and have to learn to re balance. A successful partnership learns to work with the differences and similarities. 

In the last three years, I have faced a steep learning curve in the non christian community. A place that I found healing in has now caused large disruptions. I am seeing a similar hypocrisy. I am seeing patterns that mimic the community I grew up in. And I am realizing there truly is nothing new under the sun. I am realizing humanity takes on similar aspects of belief, no matter what the position, and there are the same types of zeal played out on a different stage. It's a constant battle for me to face my own zealous nature, mistakes made, and give myself both grace and boundaries before I implement them on others. Therapy helps with this and thankfully my children and husband and copious amounts of alone time, off line. But it's hard.

What do we spend our energy on? Do we spend it more on advocating for change without activating in our lives? By activating I do not mean participating in violent marches or dissolving other people's reputations, however strong the evidence is.  By activating in life, I mean BEING off our screens and accepting people around us. Looking for the poor, downtrodden, depressed or isolated in our communities and giving in some way...our time if we can, or some of our garden extra's, or even a kind word or spreading kind thoughts. Are we spending our energy sending out goodness instead of accusations?

"So send out the dogs and tally ho 
Before we sleep tonight we've got miles to go 
No one is safe, no stone's left unturned 
And we won't stop until somebody gets burned."

Read that last lyric again. Does it sound familiar in this time in history? Often we think we are the hunted but what if we, by a strange twist of perspective, we are the hunters? What if by thinking we are the prey we become the predators? 

Do we stop to sleep and rest which enables our perspective taking? Do we harm safety in the name of safety? Are we protecting things that have multiple layers to them? Are we forgetting that the true evil of people often hides? Devious, manipulative, cruel, dismissive, discriminatory, hateful organizations/people often pull the strings of larger components from the dark corners. Sometimes, it is not until centuries later that we are shocked to find truth under the rubble of “good intentions.” 

While it is good to strive for justice, love mercy, and engage in compassionate acceptance, often on "hunts" people are so concerned about condemning others for trivial matters that they forget the larger wrongs. The wrongs that are devious and gleefully taking pleasure in the fact that many are falling for the wrong reasons. Instead of being active and becoming what is believed to be right, it's easier to throw shade around and cancel another person.

Personally I don’t want to spend my energy looking for evil wherever I can find it. When it happens to me or my loved ones that is more than enough. Life brings disaster, injustice, grief and anxiety naturally to our door or it breaks it in. We rise and fight when it’s required. But other times it is not there. It’s what we choose to open our door for that says what we are about. I want to choose to look for goodness and shut the door on the evil I can, but definitely not seek it out in the name of all that is holy. I did that once as a teen and it was a disaster. Hopefully that lesson stays.Why are we requiring contrite apologies for people whose only mistake was living and surviving in the times they were put in? Where celebrities won roles and took the job honoured to be playing a part like Nina Simone but now have to confess to their “sins”? Fans banning the brilliance of J.K Rowling (Harry Potter) books due to personal statements? How have we come to this? How is this making the world better and more tolerable?

There ARE things we must fight for. But often they are right in front of our face. They are the moments when we bravely speak into a true moment of friendship. When we choose kindness over exploding or allowing our emotions to reign. It’s when we consider differences and invite them to our table in understanding instead of correcting. It’s that moment when we have enough change to give to the homeless even if we think it may not be used appropriately. It’s also that moment when we don’t give to the homeless because we only have enough grocery money for our children. So instead we send out good vibes and prayers and make our grocery money count. It’s when we see someone being mocked by our own friends or family - and even if we see merit in some of the things they say- we decide to leave the conversation, kindly change the subject or address it (but gracefully.) Its those moments when we can kindly diffuse a situation, by showing that it may not be ignorance, or intolerance, or brutality, but simply another difference. It may have been another time of history when the words we outlaw now, WERE a form of advocacy. Yes, we need to evolve, grow and change in our language usage too, but showing that it’s not all malicious intent speaks to fear. The less fear, the less disruptive violence happens.

The more we can calm fear instead of escalate it, the less witch hunts will happen in the name of “justice.” In fighting against monsters are we creating larger, more nefarious monsters? Are we actually hiding the true monsters on our smaller witch hunts of dissection and cancellation?

                                                         

You can read more about this - The subject matter can get intense. I chose links that were less graphic than some I have read (in which I had to try not to throw up the details.) The post can apply to so many aspects and nuances of culture right now that touches all forms of life. https://www.britannica.com/event/Salem-witch-trials

https://www.britannica.com/topic/witchcraft/The-witch-hunts

To those who personally love me- if I ever do this to you or others ( witch hunt) please gently remind me of larger issues of love and justice. I know I’ve been both the minority and majority . Both make mistakes and both make the world better. Help me spread love.

*Yes, if you notice, I do have a lot of good witchy imagery. It started with Galinda in Wizard of Oz when I was young and then in adulthood - my love of the Broadway play "Wicked" in which I could relate to Elphaba during my Autism diagnosis and it spiralled from there... Also, witches do not believe in the devil or satan so getting Witches/Wicca mixed up with Satanism is vastly missing the mark. They are two different belief systems/ lifestyles.*

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=G8I-05bV-E0

Song Choice witch hunt - Petra :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18CDRT7d_PM&app=desktop

Ablaze - Alanis Morisette 

An Analogy of My Experience in the Autism Community for Political Movements. Rhetoric - is it Justice? Is it Inclusion? "Social Justice" and the Context of Intent.

"There does come a point (when a seeker) has so much information- we have read so many books and heard so many opinions- that we have to turn away from more knowledge and sift through what we have gathered. Away from the opinions and judgements of others, in a place where we feel safe and at ease, we need to examine each idea, belief and practice and measure it against our own soul. Those that resonate and feel right we keep and synthesize into our belief system. Those that do not we respectfully put away from us. Not everything is for everybody. We all have our own unique path. It is up to us to find it." Barbara Moore

I have been nurturing my path. This is a bit of context to why I do not hop on many trends, social justice movements, or get involved with current rhetoric. That is not to say that some of these things will not be noble and true for others. We each must weigh our knowledge against our experiences, contexts and souls.   

Years ago when I got diagnosed with Autism ( Aspergers Syndrome at the time)  I was immersed quickly into a new community. At first it was inclusive and I found forever friends and a place I belonged. The years went by and one day, I found my blog being unfollowed by many Autistics. It was only recently that I found out that the main reason was because I still often used the terms I was diagnosed with.  "Aspergers Syndrome" and "Aspie." I tried to use Autistic more often but "Aspie" had become a term of endearment to myself and my son who had grown up with it as a nickname since he was a toddler. As a teen he still loved it. 

My friend Sam addresses this travesty in THIS (CLICK) post;
"I have been rejected as a speaker at some autistic-run conferences, even as I had stronger credentials and proposals than the other speakers, based again on the name of my book. (I don’t mind anymore, there are many other conferences. Just a sad fact.) Several autistic advocates have been forced or bullied to change the name of their website, company, or community social media page because it contained the word Asperger(s) or Aspie or some other word that implied , even made up words! Some well-meaning autistic individuals (or Aspies) have turned away from helping others because of the continual debating, shaming, and anger over the name they call themselves. Others have left a community that they were led to believe was built on support and inclusion."

In the last five years, I have been corrected, as an autistic, for not using the right terms for MYSELF like a capital or following with “person“ after autistic. I was challenged BY other Autistics for not talking about neurodiversity or ableism properly. I was told I was ableist a few times, Me- who struggles being capable on a daily level in many ways due to executive functioning and sensory issues! Not only was this hurtful but it didn't feel like the inclusive place I originally joined. Other times it was by well meaning "advocates" or parents of Autistics who were not autistic themselves but knew all the autistic jargon and were “advocating” *for* me and *AT* me. They made me feel confused.

There was even division of the “ scale of autism” where mostly non autistics, parents and “educators” judged the verbal and non verbal and put them in the categories of “high functioning” and “low functioning." Luckily, there were articles written on that proving that low functioning in one circumstance like a non verbal confined to a wheel chair was high functioning in another (when they used their device to write epic stories.) Or on a simpler level - when a person can be both high functioning and low functioning on the same day and it renders it moot. CLICK HERE for a quick article on the topic (the best I've read. A MUST for anyone advocating for Autism.) I don’t think it’s the actual experience to be so literally black or white about it in both autism or skin colour or any other difference. Because on the scale, in their own context, each person has different treatment. Many experience trauma in different ways. Some also experience love on different levels. 

I was “educated” by some (and self educated quickly there after) on the jargon. I tried to use the "correct terms" often for a few years. I fought hard. I called myself an advocate. I was immersed in the jargon and even expected friends and family to use it with the misplaced idea that the correct dialogue was what made them truly love, understand and respect me. But then I realized that the INTENT of words is completely separate from the "appropriate" words. Many words that are used for social justice as "noble" or in place of "dubious history" are also monetized. 

As Sam writes HERE (CLICK for the amazing full article): "For the record, DSM-V, the ‘Physicians Bible’ that created the ‘newer’ autism spectrum diagnosis, is largely backed by special interest groups with financial gain at heart, particularly pharmaceutical and health insurance companies, who are known for their greed and ill treatment of citizens and have victimize millions. The diagnosis criteria of Aspergers transitioning to the umbrella spectrum disorder was not changed for pure-at-heart reasons. It was changed primarily to assist in filling the deep-pocketed big businesses. Many word origins are rooted in tainted soil. In addition, Dr. Asperger is partially credited for laying the foundation for ‘autism’ conditions." (In the article she also addresses Dr. Aspergers "Nazi connections." I have found this particular accusation being thrown around in other places casually for anyone who is in disagreement with radical leftists. When you dig deeper in research done with neutrality or find the truth between both sides, often (sometimes it is valid) what is found is speculation at best and word twisting for an agenda at worst.)

A couple years into my Autism / Aspergers journey, I learned that the widely funded and accepted group “ autism speaks” was actually quite damaging to most autistics in the name of helping and tolerance. Many autistics who could verbalize in writing wrote against it. Often parents of autistics supported it. There were numerous reasons I felt uncomfortable with the motives and portrayals of autistic people from the organization that was supposed to be speaking FOR us. Phrases like “Autistics matter” just brought home the narrative to me that, “Wait did we not matter before?” I knew my wiring had caused some issues around reciprocity and love. But constantly telling me phrases like that made me feel LESS like I belonged. People jumped on the bandwagon because they thought it was helping or that they were nobly on the “right side of history.” Articles citing vaccinations as causing autism and fear mongering were passed on. Which made myself and my children feel like a disease to be eradicated. Articles celebrating ABA therapy (which some autistics stand behind but many found abusive) were tried by loving parents because it sounded like the right thing to do. 

At that stage I definitely did not want to be autistic. Why would I want to be or celebrate my differences, when the very people who were supposed to be "speaking up for me"  were telling me how different I was and re enforcing my wounds and the history of autism at me all the time even if it wasn’t ALL my exact experience?  Had I not been loved solely because of autism? That dialogue got in my head and made me feel even more of a minority. I admit to a darker stage, when for awhile I felt like a bit of a martyr. Some of these are a legitimate phases of learning to live with being a minority. I knew that I had some instances of judgement or cruelty based on my differences (all prejudices and cruelty are clearly wrong) but I never thought of these mindsets as a generalization world wide. That would have been a dangerous thought pattern to have.

Did I have misunderstandings based on my brain wiring? All the time. Was I not loved due to autism? Honestly, yes, sometimes. Did I encounter some blatant discrimination? Yes. A few times, especially in medical situations. One particular person set me into months long depression at the accusations she geared towards me. My husband was appalled at the treatment. I cried for three hours straight after. That was just one degrading time of many.

On the other side of the coin, over the years I found a few select medical practitioners who treated me differently in a good way. They took into account my differences under stress, anxiety and sensory and chose to work with me. It was imperative that they did not treat me as equal but unique. Yet, they also needed to give me equal respect as a human being.

I can see where people can easily generalize whole institutions based on experiences or a few bad experiences of their friends. I honestly have a problem with the nursing profession more than I should. In some cases it was justified. There are practices that need to change. For my part, I had to own my generalizations and engage in cognitive behavioural therapy to recognize that all nurses are not bad or discriminatory. I had to learn (and still get setbacks) that the system is not all flawed. I still have a problem with a lot of it and high anxiety with new nurses. I still would like to see some changes. Most of my experiences have been negative, however the positive is becoming more prominent the more I find allies context to context. I’m learning there will always be good with the bad...it can’t all be generalized and judged. 

Maybe “Autism speaks“ started out with good intentions too but society took it and over time it became widely damaging in the name of tolerance? I actually can't answer that question as I stopped engaging in conversations about it. I do know a few autistics who thought it did some good. They are in the minority but whom am I to judge their positive experience?

I was highly against “autism speaks" and spoke out against it with many other autistics over the years. I became confused when I learned that there were a few autistics who were verbal and writing online who were FOR autism speaks and some like John Elder even spoke for them. On forums (before Instagram) I was shocked to find that there were actually autistics being against autistics in the name of advocacy fighting over the true or noble way to advocate for change. I had one autistic girl target and bully me for having a family and more than one child. I had to block her from my email. 

Frankly? I got tired. Not only did I have a family to raise but I was also dealing with chronically low blood levels (ferritin and hemoglobin), autoimmune disease and my own limitations. I just wanted to be me. 

I heard idealizations of representation on the media and in shows. But when I actually thought about it personally, I didn’t want a world where autistics were represented in every movie or the leading role more often, or talked as much about neurotypicals. That wasn't a reality. We are a minority and that would be weird. I realized I didn’t want full equality for equality sake. I wanted full humanity. Would more representation help? I found at times, it hindered when done improperly. I realized equal rights was not often equal. Some aspects reminded me of communism (which is a utopian ideal but anyone who has studied history knows that Stalin caused more deaths than Hitler and communism perpetuates it's own violence. Read Gulag Archipelago for more. Especially if you are a fan of Marxist philosophy.) 

The very people who need more rights in the first place end up having their rights ignored because they are different. Because they do require a few different approaches due to their own contexts, histories, tolerances, languages, styles, different economic stats, disease or addiction, DNA or co conditions, lifestyle traits etc. Unfortunately, we can not all be equal in everything. We have glorious differences to be celebrated and wonderful similarities to focus on. We can help each other where we are at odds. I realized I actually never wanted equality in treatment but equality as a human being whom is both unique and common. 

Ultimately I wanted and want to be treated as a saying in the autism community goes;
“Different NOT less.” 
Never less. But I definitely want to acknowledge the beauty and hardship of differences. 

An example: If I was treated the same in a sensory environment I would fail. If I was held up to a normally wired (neurotypical) person I would fail. In my journey, I had to learn to accept the terrible abuse and mental hospital mistakes in the past, as part of the cultural PAST. It did not mean I supported or thought that treatment was ok. It did not mean that sometimes those travesties are not still committed. But by not erasing history and the previous times, there were reminders and lessons. 

A lot of my journey through autism advocacy and my experiences with the health care institution is eerily akin to what is happening now and with the police narrative. This was a huge dose of needed perspective. 

For me, it came down to owning what I can change personally. I teach my children to never use autism/ aspergers/ disability/ illness/ difference as excuses but as an explanations. There is a key difference there. It is empowering. And hopefully a bridge or mode to understanding. 

My biggest lesson was self acceptance. I WAS/AM autistic. Yes, it often means I am the minority for processing and communication in a group of people. Sometimes this is obvious and at other times invisible. Sometimes invisibility made it worse and I almost wished I “showed“ more or could “mask” less. Other times invisibility made it better, but then I’d be angry that was the case on behalf of others who couldn’t be that way, or the parts of myself that became sick from masking. Both were terrible in different ways. On the flip side, sometimes it was a boon to be different. It gave me advantages. I’d be silly to think it wasn’t an asset too at times to be how I was. 

So all this lead up to this moment in time. This is my context and story. This is why I decided that I didn’t want to be called an advocate for autism or anything else. Often advocacy starts out with love and nobility but easily gets lost in it's own rhetoric and languages and creates new problems or forgets WHY it is doing what it is. Sometimes in the name of loving people it forgets the actual case by case person TO love. It’s easy to get lost in proper terms that seem to be noble or about love and forget the very flawed people who have stood by us and love us. I’m not saying the abusive, discriminatory language should go unsanctioned. I'm also not saying that I will not "advocate" on behalf of those I love or myself. To me it is reminiscent of when I stopped using the term "Christian." It was tied up in too many opposing belief systems, insinuations, movements, and judgements. I couldn't use it anymore even if some of my friends felt it was the right term for them. I could respect that. I ask them to respect my decision.

I know movements can also be crucial and there is a time and place for everything. I definitely played all parts in my own autism journey and maybe I will again in the future depending on circumstance and context. Maybe each one was legitimate? Some of it can easily be boiled down to ages and stages. But in my context now? I’m more wary.

I prefer now to work my social change person to person, telling stories, sharing others stories. Sometimes I send things in a moment of passion or thinking and mistakenly think people are in the same context as me even though, through these experiences, I’ve learned they are often not. There’s a part of me that forgets. I’m also human and make mistakes. I can rarely articulate what I want except  in writing or music. I still use music the most to communicate whom I am or what I want or my feelings to my children and husband because my writing is still misinterpreted. Often I don’t have words or say the wrong thing or assume someone will understand. I prefer to listen to both sides. I do take a stance but that stance is often not what I portray or what people know. It takes deep thoughtful meditation to get there and I can’t explain it ( also how I feel about beliefs.) 

I worry that the words we use actually make the issues worse. When “white Privilege “ is constantly talked about or “ white supremacist's " it becomes even MORE of a problem. It does not mean there is not racism or that all people have some form of privilege. There is a difference between actual racism and the belief of "systemic racism". I have been educated on both. I find that there is much that needs more discussion and research that is not from a biased political scheme. Telling people who don’t use the proper terms that they are ablest, racist, anti whatever or asking to “educate” them is also a form of bullying. How dare we tell other people what to call themselves? How dare we ask people to constantly remember all the proper terms? It goes both ways. In the end, many of the terms are a socially constructed form of cultural appropriateness. Do we need to change some words? Yes. Often the reason why we change words are not as noble as we think. Intent of the word is more important than the word itself. Context is everything. Sure, if in a loving relationship, there is a time and place to ask for certain terms or to ask for certain words to be left out of the equation. Love conquers all.

I personally believe diffusing, focusing on statements such as: “Here is what love looks like" "This is a story of love" "This is an example of  WHY you matter" or "Look at this person who thrives and are just like YOU!” Empowering speech and people instead of using speech that victimizes and martyrs. I hated being victimized in the autism rhetoric yet some organizations still thrive and are being applauded by many today who do just that. Part of me has to be ok with the good parts they do and not see it as completely polarized. Many other advocacy groups for LGBTQ to race to ableism are getting lost in their own language insistence and policing. It’s sad because what they are trying to achieve in most cases is noble and true. Judgements, bullying, racism, hate, policing loved ones and the silencing culture is not ok. It’s never ok. Even in the name of “justice” or “educating.” 

I’ve been burned too recently by advocacy in the name of tolerance to join up with any. I see too many patterns that I’ve lived through. I do believe in kindness, inclusion, love, true justice based case to case, merit (which has also become a dirty word), grace, patience... 

I do have a huge heart for minorities. For making the world better. For peace and equality of humanity. But not equality overall. From my perspective and experiences, that ends up being unjust and unequal. Recognizing differences, celebrating them when possible, working on owning our life stories and improving where we can and helping those who cannot help themselves is a credo I can support. I believe in living our best lives, not out of guilt or shame for differences, but out of celebration.

Sometimes the loudest voices actually aren’t often the kindest. They are the meanest or hurt people who are hiding behind rhetoric to push what may seem noble but cruelty can mask as kindness. Kindness takes the conversations, the time, the respect, the heart, and an aspect of home. Home is a place where there are boundaries like a door to be closed or opened. A home is place where safety should be offered to all who enter with true intent. Anyone, no matter their differences, can be treated with respect. They may challenge or disagree inside the home but a true home offers an ability to have fair treatment. Which doesn’t mean each child will get the exact same room but a room that expresses both their differences as people (and celebrates them!) and gives the similarities of being human also expressed in their rooms. Home provides shelter to grow. It provides a place to earn merit and learn how to be decent. But it’s also a place to activate grace when the fallibility of being human kicks in.

Kindness begins in the home. It ripples outward. Those whom are placed directly in our paths should have an aspect of it given to them from us and vice versa. If we put an ideal and rhetoric before people we put issues before relationships. It doesn’t mean the issues don’t matter but it does mean that we begin to see heart and hearth. Home is a place where differences matter because they do. We are not all the same. My son with freckles and moles needs extra attention in the heat/sunshine. My daughter with hyper flexibility has to attend physiotherapy. I can’t cook or drive in most places. It would be a travesty and injustice to treat our very human differences as either wrong or put them all on the same level. We will have different needs at different times. Contextual stories help erase hate. And when there are times when we are threatened by more - in an ideological home- we can lock the doors and invite in those who will respect humanity at all levels even if the conversation may hold nuances of difference.

This is my personal context. It’s my story and my opinions. This is my freedom of speech from living in a country that still allows for the expression of all. That matters. That is being threatened in seemingly noble ways but we need to look at all we will lose- especially for those we are fighting FOR.

I’m going to be fallible. I’m going to be right at times too. The new silencing culture that bans books, tears down statues, cancels talk shows based on a long ago transgression, holds mistakes from the past as the current present, polices languages etc.all in the name of making things "better" is forgetting the crucial lessons we learn about the good and the bad of history. There are ways to honour the good while taking lessons from the bad. An example would be to either move the statue to a museum acknowledging the part it played in history with a write up of the benefits and the terrible. Or to erect a new statue next to it celebrating the very aspect that was unsupported in the past. Re writing history the way we wish it could be, is a travesty. Re writing our future starts now.

I’m going to be both confident in my stances and suffer low self esteem sometimes. I am going to both live with misery and joy. And that makes me human. That makes me alive. I refuse to be policed by friends and family. That is my personal right as it should be for all. Challenges in context and with kindness are entirely different matters. I don't love conflict, but I’ll dive into tough conversations. I will apologize for hurt caused if I see it or if it is asked of me. I will also try my best to live in integrity and kindness. I always felt like an alien and still often do, but I know I’m also human ... And that’s where we are the same and what I try to focus on while still telling my story and celebrating and respecting our differences. 

I actually felt Sam expressed this better than I could accurately;

Post Edit: My husband suggested I make it clear that I believe in equal rights of humanity which is different from treating everyone the same. He said people may think I am against equality but see, those are two very different concepts. Emotions and hype can cause the lack of distinction. I thought it was clear so I urge you to re read my words if it is not.

Song Choice: Mind is A Prison- Alec Benjamin  "...Then I tied up my linen with five strips of ribbon I found. Scaled the side of the building. I ran to the hills till they found me. And they put me back in my cell. All by myself, alone with my thoughts again. I guess my mind is a prison and I'm never gonna get out
So they tranquilized me, analyzed me, threw me back in my cage.Then they tied me to an IV, told me I was insane. I'm a prisoner, a visitor inside of my brain. And no matter what I do, they try to keep me in chains Sometimes I think too much, yeah, I get so caught up I'm always stuck in my head I wish I could escape, I tried to yesterday Took all the sheets off my bed...Said even if it's true, no matter what I do. I'm never gonna escapeI won't give up on hope, secure another rope And try for another day..."

Summer Renewal, Epicurean Light, Magic and Meaning Whilst Embracing the Micro.

I am officially an "All Seasons Gal." Each season has had it's turn to shine in my life and become a well loved source of joy.

Back in February I kept running into the word "Transformation." I sensed change was upcoming which was scary and hopeful all at once. All the signs intuitively were pointing to a birth of sorts. But in order for birth, there must be death first or necessary endings. Luckily, many of my endings were not as painful as the anticipation of them. And the renewal that swiftly swept in made up for any losses three fold. "It takes courage to endure the sharp pains of self discovery rather than choose to take the dull pain of unconsciousness that would last the rest of our lives."- Marianne Williamson

Speaking of loss, the picture of the mirror above was a garage sale item I found for a buck and it's solid bronze. My youngest broke it on it's way into the home, my husband trashed it, I rescued and glued it and my daughter glittered it. I love it even more now. It contains a story and a context belonging to us with mystery from the owner before. It is lovely. Reflected within are the truths of messy mistakes glittering life and refracting with even more astounding beauty.

I have learned to accept my Stoic leanings but balance them with much needed Epicurean pursuits. I have found an explosion of magic and meaning, mystery and logic, and the paradox of beauty in darkness and light. Of course, those aspects were always in my life, but the Litha sun has basked them into full bloom.

Temperate weather has probably helped as our weather has been fluctuating between rain and sunshine and averages around 20 degrees C. On my front porch, which faces south, and is always about 7-10 degrees hotter, it is pure perfection for when I need heat, and I can walk off the deck for cooler temps. Which equals sensory delight. The wild roses are releasing my favourite fragrant scent and the bees are in abundance this year. I am in absolute awe of the nature surrounding me. 

I have taken the time to watch the gophers walk up to me curiously on hind feet, the birds chirp happily a few paces away, the ants busily making their nests...I have witnessed coyotes, buffalo, Canadian geese, deer, eagles, ravens, horses, cows, beavers and a snowy white owl...all in one weeks time. Oh and a frog the size of my hand standing in the middle of the road on a late night walk beneath the waning moon. These happenings have swept me away with gratitude for the wild place I belong to. 

Of course, aspects of my introverted self still suit winter, but I think I have become balanced enough to finally suit all seasons comfortably. And I am also ok with the fact that some years I will be drawn into differing seasons, but now as the wheel of the year turns, I am finding peace in what IS. "We do not grow absolutely, chronologically, we grow sometimes in one dimension and not in another or evenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one room, childish in another, the past, the present, the future mingle and pull us backward, forward or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells and constellations."- Anais Nin. 

I've reconnected with some beautiful friends from Jr/Sr. high school and discovered other connections that help round out other aspects of self. The world is full of beautiful people. Some suit us for parts of our journey while others need a break.

I've also severed some ties that encouraged me in my winter introversion, and admit-tingly supported me to be a bit of an intellectual snob at times (not a lot but there were a few fleeting realizations. Although that is completely on me as no one can force us to become what we are not.) Perhaps I was too concerned about being "frou frou" or lacking substance? I'm naturally deep so swimming in the shallow end is not something I am used to. Maybe I was shirking away from sunlight because I felt the shadows held more appeal? But life is BOTH yin and yang. I was not scrutinizing the downsides of thinking too much. Ha, maybe I am still thinking too much... I was holding on to things that held me back while also containing others. I took solace in being stoic all the time. Stoicism is still a beautiful and needed aspect of balanced living. Intellectual pursuits are worthy and wonderful. But there is something to be said for mysticism and innocence. As Harry Potter exclaimed with wonder, "I love magic!" Yes! The magic of BEING begets so many moments of ordinary bliss. If only we re- train ourselves to pay attention to the micro world. 

Ritual and spontaneity need a marriage of respect. I have recently discovered both in ways I did not behold before. We all have the power to create. We can create with our words because words are powerful entities on to themselves. They build worlds, challenge beliefs, strengthen resolve, and enable life. The invisible becomes visible with an utterance of a word. If that is not a bit of magic, then what is?

This Spring and Summer have taken us adventuring with the shadows behind us and the sun in our smiles. Moments of storms and light reflecting crystals. "No matter how thinly you slice it- there will always be two sides."- Baruch Spinoza.

 I hope that I will always find the light in the darkness and the beauty that can come with life's storms. But I also hope that I won't just let my sufferings define me. What tiny moonbeams or star flecked skies do I ignore because I am searching for the fireworks? I have had to ask myself whom I am without my cultural expectations of self, and whom am I without my suffering?

I have had two Lyme flares since the Spring but they have been fleeting. When they do come around I have asked myself to respect my body's demands, but to also not define myself from past flares. And when I do come out of a flare, to then quickly focus my gaze towards the micro world. The picture below I would have NEVER posted before without make up in a flare, but the sun healed and it was a symbolic moment of embracing what is and averting my gaze to what can BE. 

I have spent the last decade plus learning about sensory overload, boundaries, chronic illness symptoms and management, dyspraxia, learning disabilities, and my shortcomings. All of these were needed lessons and moments. I still plan on maximizing some of those truths learned in the future. But there is a time for whimsy, childlike belief and wonder. 

Each day I wake up with anticipation, eager to learn the lessons and joys of the gift of living. Not all seasons can be like this of course, I know that due to my own past of hardships, but when they do come, it is not a bad thing to celebrate the ordinary minuscule that often gets overlooked. There is so much wonder to behold. I have taken time to watch clouds roll by, feel the home made ice cream melt on my tongue with peppermint tang, sense the sun warming up my body from the outside in, watch the bees buzz in a flower, and stare at the rainbows made by window crystals. These are not wasted moments. I still get needed organizational aspects of life completed, but they are enriched by the micro magic.

What will people think if they catch you cloud watching or focusing dreamily on a flower? What will be their reaction when they witness contentment, magic, wonder or childlike actions? If you are worried that they will leave you based on this kind of living, why are they invited to witness your sacred life in the first place? Feed your soul the food of dreams and stories. After all, your story is your epic life. Your moments are now and they won't last forever.

"I know it's a drag, I know it's a grind. I know that a dollar ain't worth a dime. Just trying to keep up with the Joneses at the end of the block. I know you get tired, I know you get down. I know you get sick of this soul sucking town. Let's make a little lemonade if lemons is all we got 'Cause I'm stuck on you, you're stuck on me. I never gotta wonder where my honey be. I ain't saving all my sugar for a Saturday night. Seven days a week I got an appetite. Sunsets like a tangerine, let's find a road we've never seen. Don't waste another mile or a minute not kissing me. Life is short, make it sweet
Open sky, glimpse of heaven, take the top off the CJ-7. Let that surfside Santa Ana wind mess up your hair, And let that windshield frame the ocean, Radio keep coast-to-coasting, If we don't get where we're going baby I don't care. I'm already there. 'Cause I'm stuck on you, you're stuck on me
I never gotta wonder where my honey be. I ain't saving all my sugar for a Saturday night. Seven days a week I got an appetite. Sunsets like a tangerine, let's find a road we've never seen. Don't waste another mile or a minute not kissing me. Life is short, make it sweet. Days will be long but the years will fly right by. We'll never be as young as we are tonight. Baby ain't that right, yeah. 'Cause I'm stuck on you, you're stuck on me. I never gotta wonder where my honey be. I ain't saving all my sugar for a Saturday night. Seven days a week I got an appetite. Sunsets like a tangerine, let's find a road we've never seen. Don't waste another mile or a minute not kissing me. Life is short, make it sweet."- Old Dominion Lyrics

With deepest gratitude to dreams, stories built from magical words, mystery and the micro. May you find your little joys to sweeten daily life.

P.S. Happy Canada Day. 

Song Choice: Make it Sweet- Old dominion

       

The Moment I Fell Back In Love with My Husband, Why Marrying Young is Often an Excellent Choice for Committed Partnership and A "Just Checkin In Sort of Love."

(Disclaimer: *I want to express here to my friends who are divorced or separated, that I acknowledge your immense pain and heartache. This post is not focused on that aspect of understanding and perhaps is not meant currently for your eyes if you are in a tough spot right now. While I understand those tough spots and I currently never wish to be in those moments again, I know that both partners have to be willing to get back to a place of being in love. One person's love is not enough for both. I am so incredibly sorry for the one whom loved, but it was not enough to carry, and that pain can be worse than death when it's fresh. Miserable marriages are the worst, speaking from experience when one particular year was so heartbreaking...I had PTSD for the next full year...in a small part I understand but in another aspect- I don't...because my journey is suddenly in happiness again and this post is about that reclaiming and giving advice to couples who are on the precipice but have choices...)

The Moment I Fell Back In Love with My Husband

I have alluded to the fact that my husband and I recently had 2.5 tough years in THIS and THIS post. In our 17/18 years together, we have had some terrible years, epic times, and neutral moments, but currently, I am celebrating that thus far, this is becoming one of our together times. 

 A couple months ago my husband and I were watching a movie together. It was a perfectly ordinary moment in which we both started laughing and I snuggled into his chest naturally. It took a second to register that I didn't have to pre choose to be near him, or force myself to make contact, and then my head popped quickly off his chest and I exclaimed,"Oh my goodness!!! It happened!" And he knew EXACTLY what I was going to say, because at the same time I said, "I'm back in euphoric love with you." He said, "What? You are back in love with me?"

The fact that he had the same realization at the same moment made me love him even more. I felt like I had in years passed. We have always been FOR each other in a chosen partnership, in good times and bad times. We actively choose to get through the hard years, because we know that we would just have to eventually traverse a similar path with someone else. All relationships have their eventual ebb and flow. We knew we valued commitment and nothing barring two definite rules of ours, would be worth losing what we had. In tough times, if we work on our relationship and actively choose to try, eventually the feelings will come back. This time it took almost 2.5 years to fully come around to the feelings of being IN love, but we still HAD love. We chose to have each other's backs despite our issues. 

Why Marrying Young is Often an Excellent Choice for Committed Partnership

                                            

Our natural relationship is based on the beautiful ordinary. I often tell my children to try to marry young if they want a lifelong committed partnership. Why? Because contrary to popular advice, marrying young causes the couple to GROW together. It's easier to adapt to each other because from a vulnerable age, both people have chosen to consider one another. It tends to go that these individuals are less set in their ways, there are more options to choose from below a certain age, and if chosen with wisdom and preparation, the couple has more time to bond together for a lifetime of choices. The problems of marrying young are NOT from age. They are from a lack of maturity (maturity is ageless and depends on perspective) when making choices, which can be partially remedied by preparation. My husband and I went to seven different marital counsellors of differing beliefs. SEVEN. I admit, we were trying to make a point that we could get married because almost everyone was telling us it was a bad choice. Which in hindsight, the naysayers gave us a head start by allowing us to "rebel" and figure out how to be stronger in our decision. Overall, most issues in life are not about age. Age is different from wisdom. I know 16 year olds who have more wisdom than some 68 year olds. I see couples who will succeed being married at forty and couples who will succeed being married at 18. It's not about age. But there IS an element of TIME. Being together longer, having moments to infuse love and bond together in almost every decade minus childhood, DOES add a special type of element to love. My husband and I knew each other at 17. We have witnessed the changes from teen hood to young adulthood, early twenties to thirties and thirties to mid thirties together. If you are older than 30, think of all those crucial life moments, skills and wisdom that was gathered through those years. Now imagine sharing them with a life partner in vulnerability and balance. That can either ruin a couple or fuse them so tightly together that it is almost impossible to bring them apart.

                                        

What will make the difference between ruination and fusing tighter to each other? This is a complex question. Unfortunately some factors are out of our control. Tragedy, death, and mental illness can change a couple's rate of succeeding. But they can also bring a couple together. It depends on BOTH people. Mostly, in a large generalization, it comes down to communication, humour, willingness to be vulnerable and natural, respect and commitment. If both partners are able to express the truth in love, remain open in vulnerability and share most experiences with each other, most obstacles can eventually be overcome. 

A "Just Checking In Sort of Love."

My husband checks in every day with texts like, "Morning love, How was your sleep? How are you feeling today?" He also calls me during work with his headphones. He can have the worst timing. I will be in the middle of check out at a store, or running to the bathroom, having a serious discussion with my kids, tacking up decor, dealing with broken glass or my arms will be full of packages while I am unlocking my door. Actually, often his timing is "inconvenient." But most of the time, I still answer. Because he is making the time, I need to make the time. I remind myself what I am doing can often wait. Or I can quickly tell him I will call him back. But most of the time, I smile as his ring tone of "At Last" starts to croon and I begin the conversation with, "Hi Babe, what's up?"

Since we were teens together, he has known that I tend to forget the sensory details of the day. He will ask me if I have eaten and make sure that I get food nurturing. I make sure he is covered in natural sunscreen if he is working outside, that his schedule is manageable and that he has drank enough water. During our 2.5 years of chaos, we still made this kind of love a practice.

In general, we have a rule to tell each other important or relevant news first, before anyone else. Sometimes we forget but we actively try to choose to share emotion as a priority. Each morning before he leaves, I will often feel a kiss on my cheek or forehead. If I stir, I will hear the words, "Shhhhh go back to sleep baby." And I will...with a slight smile on my face. When I wake up later I send a text to him with, "Morning love. Hope your day is going well." This routine still happened when we were going through tough times. Because practicing the daily love BECOMES love.

Whenever one of us is going away for the day, we make sure we say, "I love you." It's a habit that has been a part of us since we were 17. We have only had 10 full days/nights away from each other in 18 years together. Even when I feel I hate him, I can't stand to go to sleep without him. When I am super mad, I wait till he is asleep (which doesn't take long) and then I reluctantly move to spoon him, because it is easier for me to fall into slumber in that natural position. He will shift in his sleep to accommodate me and often he will move his arm so that it is holding mine. Even if we were arguing before sleep. Reaching for each other is a habit.

He makes me laugh and I crack him up. We will often be found laughing until our bodies are shaking. Actually the movie "Friends with Benefits" (which I do not recommend if you have issues with sexual scenes) reminds me of my husband and I. We are best friends first. Of course we have our sexy times, but often our private relationship is full of casual friendship moments, laughter, joking and a general comfortability.

The other day I could not stop snapping pictures of him. I couldn't get over how beautiful he was. I am often in awe of his natural facial beauty. I can't compare to him that way. I have to put on make up and effort into my form of beauty. He wakes up and those beautiful smile crinkles light up his face. His faded freckles dot his smooth skin and his stubble highlights his full mouth. He has the most stunning smile coupled with expressive, blue sky eyes. I find him more attractive than any movie star I adore (which isn't many but the ones I do think are attractive tend to look similar to him...except for Blaine in Glee, and he just encompasses my husband's charismatic personality in many ways.) Yet despite the fact that he is prettier than me, every day he tells me how beautiful I am. Often, he catches me off guard. He typically says it when I am feeling at my worst. Often he makes advances when I am in sweats, a t shirt and have barely any make up on or my hair is a rat's nest. I sigh with frustration and say, "Why do you never make these advances when I am in heels and a dress or look better?! Now, it will take me awhile to come around to the idea that I am sexy which factors into our time together..." But he always replies, "I prefer knowing you're comfortable. That's hot to me." Which, let's admit, is a pretty quick way for me to get over myself. It works, but I can tell he is genuine. I can be in a dress and heels like in this photo my son snapped below- when I think I look the best I can be:

... and even though we have time to connect, instead he chooses to focus attention on me a day later when I look casual, probably smell, am in glasses and PJs without make up and my hair is messy (pic below also taken by my son- my daughter snapped the photos of my husband and I.) and it seriously baffles me because it has been the pattern all through our marriage. These moments are not when I would personally choose me anyway...:
                                          

Often in Romances or Novels, there is this pressure to have an epic amount of sexiness. The romance hinges on constant sexual advances, hot bodies, or over the top romantic overtures in hot air balloons or exciting, expensive places...Even on Instagram, the trendy couple posts are the ones where two hot people with excellent clothes are taking pictures in stunning landscapes or in the perfect lighting. These photos capture a feeling and are beauty in a different way, but should not be a standard of expectation. While my husband and I have had similar epic moments, and we have a couple perfect pictures together or have had moments of constant attraction...these occasions are few and far between life's ordinary. And the ordinary bliss is truly what romance is about.

It's the moment when he tucks me in because I have been doing too much extraverting and he knows that I will crash if I do not have ample alone time in my room. Or when I arrange his schedule and organize his next business venture because I know those details stress him out and cause him to feel inadequate. It's when we run our hands along each other's backs as we pass in the hallway of our home. Or when we quickly peck each other's cheeks as we cross each other's paths. Love is where we are on Sunday mornings, snuggling in bed because we are free in time to enjoy each other. It's the moment when I finish his sentences and predict his behaviour so that I can change our environment to suit his moods. It's trusting that he doesn't cheat in any form including images on his phone, and vice versa. It's choosing each other to fill our needs instead of going to another convenient or seemingly exciting choice. It's when we share a smile over the kid's heads because something they said hit us right in our souls and we both KNEW what the other was feeling. It's him scrubbing the shower because he knows I lack the strength, and me doing his laundry because I know he lacks the time. A large part of this is also sharing our small hopes and dreams together and finding a way to activate our change together. If one of us wants to change our eating patterns, the research is shared and if it's drastic, we BOTH choose to walk the path together because we know that type of change can re set a person, thus we want to re set together. This also applies in financial goals, home goals and child rearing. (Obviously we also have our important separate choices and crucial alone time too.)

"It's ordinary, plain and simple, typical this every day love, same old, same old, keeping it new. Emotional so familiar, nothing about too peculiar, oh but I can't get enough of this every day love. Every afternoon I make a phone call, listen to the voice that warms my heart, I drag myself through a few more hours, and drive home to try to beat the clock, his smile will be right there, just like it was before, and it will be that way tomorrow, like every day before. I wouldn't change one single thing about it, it's run of the mill but I still can't live without it."- Rascal Flatts

P.S. Happy Birthday Baby. I love walking the tightrope with you in our ordinary day love. You are truly the only person in the world who knows me for all that I am. After these last 2.5 tough years I wanted let you know how very proud I am of you. That even in your tougher moments I was pretty honoured to still be your partner. I wouldn't want to go through hell with anyone else but you! But it's also lovely to be back in Ga Ga love with you. "I Hope you're the end of my story. I hope you're as far as it goes. I hope your the last word- I ever utter. That it's never your time to go."- Pistol Annies

From the Kids- Forever our Thor:

Song Choice: Everyday Love- Rascal Flatts , Tightrope- Michelle Williams, End of My story- Pistol Annies