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Kim Antieau. What a relief it has been. I have subjected myself to very little news. No advertising, little news, no social media. I took thousands of photographs of cottonwoods, ospreys, woodpeckers, great blue herons, finches, red winged- blackbirds, and many ducks and turtles. I soon began to sleep better, my anger dissipated, and my compassion and empathy began to return. We stop and talk to each other about the weather, the watershed, the birds (and other wild life).

Not everyone wants to talk, of course. I passed one older gentleman almost every day for a couple of weeks. At first we just nodded to one another.

Then after several days, I said hello, and he answered me likewise. In another day or two, he smiled as he said hello. Then one day, we stopped and talked to one another about the birds we had seen that day, and then we continued on our separate ways.

It’s critical habitat.) In my recent naturalist training, the ranger had suggested that we make everyone feel welcome and safe at the refuge. Download Toilet (2017) Movie In Hd more. I have remembered this each time I’ve met someone with a dog.

As I poured water into the dog’s dish, I asked her all about the dog. Honestly, I didn’t care. I was just practicing being kind. Sometimes it does take practice. I stopped and said hello. Hey, you probably didn’t realize it but this is critical habitat, and no dogs are allowed here.” The young man with the dog said someone had just told him, and they were leaving. I didn’t scream at him and point out prominent signs about no dogs on the trail—in fact, I didn’t even THINK about screaming at him.

No meltdown. All was well in River City. If someone tailgates me, I move over as soon as I can. If I can’t move, I imagine being surrounded by protective runes. Some of you curse. I throw out runes or Celtic chants.) I’ve also started listening to audio books again.

I guess that makes me a distracted driver, but I think it makes me a better driver: Listening to a good book keeps me from focusing on the asshat on my tail. I won’t mention which ones just in case nothing ever comes of the research.

I’m enjoying the research even though I’m not actually feeling any urge to write. It’s always been important to me to know the truth.

I don’t mean that in some pompous or na. I want to know what’s true. What’s real. I have always believed there is so much we don’t know. I think much of our full potential gets dampened or wounded or never realized because of cultural constraints: by what our culture tells us is so, what advertising tells us is so, what social media tells us is so. What we’ve been told doesn’t make it necessarily so, of course, but we don’t always understand this.

They want us to stay a part of them, they don’t want us to change, they don’t want us to rock the boat. This isn’t because of any evil intent. It’s about survival of the tribe. Flying the coop or living up to our dreams or full potential doesn’t maintain the status quo.

Maybe I can’t make it sound concrete. It’s like a fish who has lived its whole life in a fish bowl trying to talk about what it would be like to live in an ocean, I suppose. I believe illness and health and how we get well (or don’t get well) is influenced by our cultures. Scientists now know that our gene codes are only a small part of what makes us healthy or ill.

They are learning from the study of epigenetics that our environment, including our cultures, can change and does affect our health. I want to know the truth of what ails me so I can be well.

Maybe the truth doesn’t matter. When Mario first told me, in an offhand way, I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I was certain I had heard it wrong. How could Prince be dead?

He was younger than I was. And he had always seemed so..

He seemed to go his own way, to understand himself and his talent. I have chaffed at the constraints of my culture, but I have never thrown it off fully, not in a healthy way. Prince seemed full of himself. I’ve always felt that the world would be so much better off if each of us was full of our true self—not the self created by cultural constraints. Would I have been a writer? I had wanted to be a writer for almost as long as I could remember. I was good at it, and I liked the accolades I got when I did it.

Was that the reason I had become a writer? I asked myself: What would I be now if I could be anyone? What would I do if I could do anything and be good at it? No, that couldn’t be right. The thought of being a doctor or a nurse was repulsive to me. Not because there’s something wrong with those professions: I just wouldn’t be good at it. I don’t have a strong stomach.

I pick up symptoms easily. I had even practiced some of what I learned. Sometimes I felt like I had helped people; sometimes I had no idea.

I was even able to help myself a few times. But with the big thing that had ailed me for so many years, I was helpless. And I was still sick.

After a while I thought, who gives a shit? If I can’t help myself, what good is it? If it was real, I’d be well. So I didn't’t believe in it.

It was strange, odd, unexpected: healer. Did I really want to be a healer when I grew up? Maybe nothing at all. I don’t really know what this post means.

Maybe nothing at all. It’s almost as if words are new to me. I don’t want to be the witch at the edge of the village, alone except when people need her. Nor do I want to be the one in the middle of everything stirring up trouble and feeling completely burned out. Somehow I need to balance out my despair over what is happening in the world with the joy of living in this beautiful world. I need to find my place in this old world.

I imagine my roots going down into the ground to wrap around the roots of other trees growing in the area. And then I reach my arms up into the sky and imagine myself eating light, just like the trees. This always makes me smile. And it feels.. chilly and thrilling.

I’ve lost faith in myself and my abilities. I need to regain some trust and confidence in myself again, in my ability to be in this world as a whole, hale, healthy, true being. Maybe as I wash away the influences of the culture, I will become full of my true self.