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Just Puff

Eyes to Subconscious:  Hey, I see light…  what time is it?

Sub:  I’m not sure any more, I don’t even know where we are these days.

Eyes to Stomach: Dude, is it morning, afternoon, or evening out there?

Stomach:  I thought it was morning on the last plane, but then the stewardess brought chicken and asparagus, so I’m as lost as Sub up there.

Eyes:  I don’t know if I should let Conscious know to wake up…..

Left foot:  Hey we rolled the other way, I’m getting blood again, Conscious is about to wake up anyway!

Eyes:  Crap! Conscious is gonna be pissed it wasn’t me.  This is not good!  What am I gonna do???

Stomach:  Yup, Conscious is not going to like foot being the waker.

Eyes:  I know!!  What am I gonna do?!?!

Sub:  Puff up! Quick! I hear it confuses Conscious, she won’t know it wasn’t you!

Foot:  Here it is!  The needles are here!  OWWWWW!

Sub:  She’s waking up!!  Puff Up!!  Puff UP!!

 

Me, staring in the bathroom mirror 10 minutes after my foot and leg stop feeling like a million needles being pushed through it in rapid fire succession…..

WHAT HAPPENED TO MY EYES!!

Woah, I didn’t even know they were capable of swelling that much.

I’d be impressed if it didn’t hurt so much.

Airplanes suck the life out of me.

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on 15/11/2016 in living

 

We teach them more than 123

I try to be honest in everything I do.  I speak honestly. I work honestly.  I live honestly.

I’m not perfect, but I’m honest about that too. And I teach my students honesty, through example, as well as discussion.

I champion good treatment of everyone.  I make it a point to teach my students that being good to each other and ourselves is of extreme importance.

I champion integrity in my classes.

I champion being good to each other through word and deed.  My first class rule that students repeat almost every day is, “Our class is a safe place”. And I teach them that safe means Every form of safe, not just from hitting or blatant bullying; but from the words we use and the way we say them, and from the snickering bystanders too. Our class is safe from gossip, and talking about others when they’re not around, or in a language they don’t understand.

And I teach them that anytime we are at school, they are part of my class.

It’s that important to me.

We as teachers are helping raise the next generation.  They spend the majority of their waking hours in our classes.  We are responsible to teach them how to be good people along with good spellers and mathematicians.

I take that responsibility seriously.

And I’m not the only one.  Most teachers I know feel the same way.  When we discuss what’s right or wrong in our individual schools and school systems, it is always with the intent of finding and doing what is best to help these children be their best.

I love communicating with all my teacher friends across the globe as we compare and contrast the ways, but never the goal.  The goal, help raise great humans, is always understood.

I wouldn’t say it’s a thankless job.  I love getting my thank you’s from students and parents and the leaders at school.


When we’re appreciated for the countless hours we put in to give these students the best education we are capable of, that’s what keeps us going.

I teach for these little notes, the high fives, and the thank you’s from students; not for my paycheck.

Hearing, “come in, teach the book, go home, get paid” does not even compute in my book. I’ve heard it from 5 or 6 teachers as I’ve traveled the world.  If your goal is just to get paid, or not to put effort into understanding that parents are trusting you to be part of the village that raises their child, in belief that you are giving them all the tools to be good humans, if your goal is to go in, have students read from the book, and go home and forget these children exist until you have to be in class, please don’t be a teacher.

Teaching is more than 123 and ABC.  It is understanding we are more than babysitters, we are more than dispellers of information collected in a book.

We are working to shape how these next generations: interact with each other, create the habits that will help them thrive as adults, believe in themselves, feel about their ability to learn, interact with difference, with the world, and feel safe.

Children need to feel safe enough to learn. That is created through building a safe community amongst everyone at the school.

Honesty, integrity, safety, acceptance, balance, good will, and courage to explore new things, that is part of the 123ABC package.

We teach them so much more than just 123.

Teachers, yes you, go be awesome!

 
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Posted by on 22/10/2016 in living

 

It is interesting

Working for both a school and a news station….

 
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Posted by on 12/10/2016 in living

 

One more month

In a month I will head to the states for a wonderful reason, 

My daughters wedding. 

My beautiful baby girl is getting married to the man she has chosen to spend her life with.  How excited am I?? I will only get a week with her to celebrate in person.  But as always, I’m a mere phonecall, text, Skype, or email away. 

Technology is a wonderful blessing in this day and age.  I was able to witness a couple get married with all their family  “attending” via Skype.  People at the place were all holding various devices to make sure everyone could see all the events. 

That one had the most technology used, but I’ve seen plenty of life events attended via the Internet because of my travels.  

I’ve seen engagements with both sets of parents watching via Skype. 

A graduation with grandparents on FaceTime in her hand as she walked the line. 

My housemate got to see their new godson before he was even taken in to mom. Dad face timed and said, “hey here he is, isn’t he amazing, wanted to make sure you saw him”.

I’m so grateful for the people who help me keep in contact.  The people who are there for me, no matter where I  am. The people who send me positivity and help me keep going on. I’m grateful for the technology that makes it possible. 

I’m so grateful I get to go be at my daughter’s  wedding!!!! And don’t have to figure out how to see it through the Internet. 

I haven’t posted much of anything about going really because I don’t want to jinx it.  A few things have been trying to keep it from happening; but one by one I’m overcoming these little obstacles.  

Basically my attitude is, short of death, nothing will stop me.  The closer it gets, the more excited I get! 

One more month.  

I’ll be there Sweetpea. 

 
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Posted by on 07/10/2016 in living

 

My Silent Scream

I can’t express how much I admire the author off this blog and post. We all need to keep screaming until rape culture is not the norm. Until all of us “lesser than’s”, especially girls and women, don’t have to be afraid of being, of existing, of where and how we fit into society.

Drifting Through My Open Mind

photo-1465151990534-683bf7717c78

I’ve been screaming for most of my life. Ever since innocence was taken from me at a tender age. I’ve been screaming, but you haven’t heard me. This scream has been trapped behind a polite smile. This scream has been buried in the haze of blurry memories and life moving forward. It’s been lying in wait while I went about living what turned into a pretty happy life. But it’s always been there. I didn’t ask for this primal urge, it was gifted to me by a sick soul. Silently screaming for decades.

No more. I’ve written about my experience. I’ve purged and I’ve felt some release. I’ve spent years doing the work of healing and I’ve dealt with my demons. I’m good.

But sometimes? Sometimes I still want to scream out loud.

When I see rapists getting a paternal pat on the head from sympathetic judges, I want to…

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Posted by on 02/09/2016 in living

 

Ok, I’m writing….. I don’t know where this will go

I’m not really sure what it is I’m supposed to write about exactly.   I feel like it is something having to do with abuse in whole, specifying what happened in Mozambique.  But, friends, thinking about it all is overwhelming.
The last two years have been head spinning for me, and have seriously altered the way I see things.  The healing that has come from the last two years is far more important to me.  Yet, for some reason I am being led to continue to write about the events of the last two years.
First, I think it’s important to say – While back in the US after my time in Mozambique, an interesting phenomenon began to occur.  Simultaneously with my spiritual healing, I also began to see more of the dark side of things.  Fear began to overwhelm me at times.  I have never had panic attacks before.  Now I do.
I am realizing that along with seeing the greater good, comes seeing the greater bad.  I’ve always been decent at seeing both good and bad in situations, trying to weigh each against each other and making decisions based on how I feel the long-term outcome is more good than bad.  But now, now I am in a league I didn’t even understand existed.  I can’t NOT see the ugliness humans are capable of, and I also see the good so much deeper than I did before.
It scares me frankly.
My ability to be right here, right now is a cactus to hold on to.  I see the future impact of what the right here and now can bring.  It’s not an easy lens to look through.  But mostly it is difficult for me because, though I struggle with the adult land of all this, it is the children I am having the most difficulty with.
And by that I mean, seeing how the obscene scale of abuse that humans are capable of, and pull off constantly, affects our children.
Our beautiful children come in to this world innocent.  It is our societies that hone them into future abusers and we are all abusers.  Let’s be real about it.  Even if we don’t consciously abuse others, we abuse ourselves so regularly.  White privilege affords many of us the “right” to be abusive without feeling that it is so, or knowing that we do.  It shatters self worth across the board. It creates such a systemic divide and conquer system, that everything we do is in it and we don’t even know it.
How do we overcome?  We are creatures of habit, of comfort.  Even as we explore and expand, we maintain those spaces in our psyche that keep us comfortable enough to push past this boundary or that boundary.
And how do we deal with those that push abuse past the “acceptable” places?
I am currently friends with someone who pushes my verbal boundaries all over the place.  To be fair, though I would never have been ok with some of the things that are said, I wouldn’t have been so emotionally torn over them before the last two years.  I have never been ok with the nigger, ho, etc., being thrown out every fourth word in a sentence, but I have tolerated when people around me have spoken like that, saying to myself, “it’s the vernacular”.
But, it’s the vernacular of people who have been oppressed and degraded to a point that these derogatory words are put into common language, in order not to be hurt by it.  I own these words so they don’t hurt when you say them.  Because, guess what, words really do hurt.  Even the rhyme is meant to deflect, push away the hurt that comes from people saying mean things to each other.

It’s a verbal avoidance display of the hierarchy that comes with divide and conquer societies.
And I can’t handle it.  I can’t listen to it.  I don’t want it around me.  I screams in my face about so many things that are wrong about how we raise our children in this society, how we have it set up to raise them, even when we are doing everything “right”.
Reading through some of my light summer reading… (haha) I ran across this from Chris Biffle;

“Listen carefully to how rebellious students talk to each other… there is a continuous struggle for hierarchy, authority and power inside their group. They support each other out of fear of not being supported and of being ostracized, but their ongoing battles build up enormous reserves of bitter energy.

…harassing each other is their way of life, the way they maintain rank in their group. Think of a clique of challenging students this way: you’ve got Leaders, Followers and Bottom Dwellers. There is usually one Leader, call him El Supremo (or La Suprema, if you wish) and many Followers and Bottom Dwellers. El Supremo maintains his position by harassing Followers and Bottom Dwellers. Followers maintain their position by harassing other Followers and Bottom Dwellers. Bottom Dwellers maintain their position by harassing each other, and, when it is safe, joining in the harassment of Followers who are being harassed by other Followers and/ or El Supremo. So, these cliques are small societies that run on humiliation, intimidation and reprisal. They are only truly united when they face Outsiders, especially Outsiders who are in Authority.”

Biffle, Chris. Whole Brain Teaching

Add to that how society teaches our boys not to feel any emotions outside the “be a man” box.  Which btw, not feeling emotion is a part of a sociopaths profile.

Think about that for a minute.

And I guess that brings me to the sociopath that I had the misfortune to connect with, John Goosen.

The last few days I was in Mozambique, the every ready and apparently effective, “I’ve got an illness, feel sorry for me” tact was thrown and hooked into the people that I should have been able to count on to help me.  The available, yet meaningless tears as he said his I’m so sorry, to them.  Said he was diagnosed as a sociopath, and had decided to go off his meds when he left for Mozambique the year before.  (Though to my knowledge there is no such thing as a medication for sociopaths.)  His sorry for them having to take me in, his sorry for my putting everyone out.  He shouldn’t have been so aggressive, but he didn’t understand why I was causing everyone else to have difficulties because of it.

It’s a ploy.  It’s not real.  It’s meant to distract and diffuse.  Once he was “sick”, I became “unreasonable”.  I became the abuser because I needed help, and kept demanding justice for what he had done.  People don’t want to see abuse so much so, that they will turn on the victims even while they’re still black and blue.

And interestingly enough, I am watching this same style of scenario play out, yet-a-freaking-gain.  And again, the players involved are magically unable to see the power hungry abuser for what he is.  He keeps everything clean and above board around the people he needs to.   Shakes the right hands, greases the right wheels. He’s got just enough twisted around the players just below those, uses just enough of the looking like a good guy, says what they want to hear, and bam, they turn their head to everything else; the abuse of power, position, the verbal abuses, and yes, even the physical abuses.  Just choose not to see it, not to do anything about it, and in fact keep him right where he is because they choose to see only the “look like a good guy” things.

Frankly I’m amazed at how easily we choose to see what we want, opposed to what is.  I kinda still wish I could.

My ex-husband always looked like the good guy to people at church, or work.  No one could believe the things that he would do at home when only his family was around.  And I played my part as well.  I was the happy wife when others were around.  I was the one who caused any issues.  I took all the blame, until I didn’t any more.

Then it got worse.  Until I stopped playing the game, started seeing the truth instead of what I wanted to see, it escalated only slightly through time.  But then it escalated rapidly.

And even after I left, he played on everyone.  “I’m so worried about her, what is she doing?  Do you know where she goes?  I need your help to help her”.

I guess this is just a general rant……   but the main point I’m seeing in this rant is

We need to wake up and start looking at truth.  The real truth.  And change it.

Fear of the unknown is powerful, and that’s what we’re heading into.  All of us are living in a world that is rapidly deteriorating as an inhabitable place.  All of us will be dealing with how to get basic necessities like clean water and uncontaminated food before too long.

Sadly, we need to see how we treat each other faster than we need to see how to treat our power supplies.  

Because once we’re in the depths of the struggle for our collective lives, how we treat each other will be the final determiner.  How quick we are to just blow each other up instead of share and compromise and work together will be the truth that decides if we all die or find a way to live on.

Being all in for me and mine will leave a very lonely planet.

So how do we wake up?  How do we help others wake up?

I hear, “that’s just how it is”  “stop being so sensitive” “this is how it’s always been, since the beginning of time” and it makes me want to vomit.

Yes, of course this is how it has always been, why do you think it is so deeply entrenched in EVERYTHING.  But that DOES NOT mean that it needs to remain so.

Our world is all filled up with people.  We don’t need to go conquer new lands any more.  We have automatic everything, we don’t need to enslave people anymore.  We live in a globally connected and political world, we don’t need to have wars any more.  We have complex languages and lots of people that can speak any number of them, we don’t have to have language barriers and lack of communication any more.  We are not living in the same scope as the people who created these hierarchical systems were.  We don’t need them any more.

Yes, it’s been this way for 4000 years, ok.  Truth is truth, but WE DON’T NEED TO ANY MORE.

I don’t need to stop being so sensitive.

We need to help others become more sensitive.  Not only do women need to stop ” remembering their place”, men need to stop “being men”.  Let’s all just be people.  People who don’t subscribe to the -ism’s, don’t teach them to our children.  Let’s be people who work together for the greater good.  Let’s be people who leave a better world for our children, a world without abuses.

#noonedeservesvolence

I guess I need to just keep writing.  Whether or not I want to, and then what ever is supposed to come out will.  I’m trusting in my guides, who have been sending me every thing they have to tell me to write on here, so I will.

Peace and love to you all!

 

I have to, but I don’t want to

I have to write about it. I don’t want to.

I have been procrastinating, avoiding, doing anything else but writing on here; worrying about the abuse, the execution of John Gooson’s plan to find someone, it just happened to be me, to isolate and abuse.

But all my spirit guides are screaming at me. I can’t avoid it any more. Someone else may be looking, searching to see if he’s an ok guy, someone who is trustworthy.

HE IS NOT.

This is not the post I have to write. Just a step I’m taking to prepare myself.

But if you are wondering if Willem Johannes Goosen of South Africa, living anywhere, about 5’9″tall, dirty blonde, big calves, is a safe person. He is not. Do not trust him. He is an abuser. He kept me on an island, sold my passport, lied to everyone about who I was, and then tried to kill me.

Do not trust him.

 
 
 
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