Standing Still

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 17, 2015

Recently, a wonderful new person in my life painstakingly skimmed through my blog in an effort to know me better. His comments were that I seemed to take two steps forwards and one step back in reference to my suicide grief.

I’m going to politely agree to disagree on this one.

Here are the reasons why:

Any sort of grief is very personal. It’s different for everyone. It’s not a set of stairs that we’re standing on or a path where we are moving forwards or backwards. In reality, we cannot physically move backwards in time – so there are only two choices a) to go forwards and b) to stand still.

Grief is a journey and it’s one that, I believe, is lateral vs vertical. I think we sidestep back and forth when the waves of grief over take us and we learn to surf them. We lean to incorporate them into our lives and, quite frankly, get used to them.

We live with them and these waves don’t exactly ask permission before they come along and try to sweep us under. They take us unawares, from time-to-time, and leave us feeling a little empty. But, we fill up again because we know that we have so much to be grateful for. We fill up with the beautiful things that surround us. We fill up with the love from our friends and family. We fill up from knowing we’ll see our loved one again.

It’s a process that will lessen with time but will never completely go away. Something this huge will be with us for the rest of our lives.

I try and look at it more analytically, these days, as in: what emotional damage have I taken on and what good things came of it. What have I learned? How will/have I changed? How will I be better as a soul on this earth? How can I make sure I have done my best for myself and everyone around me who is involved?

All these questions I address, one-by-one, on a regular basis. Daily, actually.

When I started writing about Brian, it wasn’t my intention to chronicle my grief. I simply wanted an outlet in which to help heal from and being a writer/blogger, it just made good sense.

Yet, here I am; here I am yabbering on and on about it.

On the plus side, it does help my fragile ego – but I suspect, some, find it annoying. If you do, just don’t read my blog. 🙂

Eventually, the ‘Chronicles of Carrie’s Suicide Grief’ will subside and dissipate like autumn leaves in a November wind. I’ll write about normal stuff; the things I find interesting, odd and wonderful. I’ll post the odd rant about this and that – the usual blather I’ve been blabbing about for the past four years.

In a nutshell, I’ll move forward. But occasionally…I may stand still. Just to be in the moment, to experience, to re-assess, to see if there’s something I have yet to learn, but mostly, to remember.

It’s okay to stand still, because there is always only one direction in which to go – and that is forward.

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Anew

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 13, 2015

It’s been six months. Six months since that terrible thing happened but I’m more hopeful than ever. Although I struggle, daily, to comprehend, grieve and simply deal with it – I now realize it’s just a new part of my life that I have to incorporate.

It’s an experience that I’m beginning to learn from. And, after all, that’s why we are here – to experience and learn. At some point, I’d like to teach – teach others about how suicide grief survivors handle life, going forward. Because we’re now different. We now see things differently and we can either dwell in the negative aspect of what happened…or we can find the rainbow after the storm.

I’d also like to teach others that suicide awareness shouldn’t be taboo and kept in the dark. It shouldn’t be spoken about in hushed whispers with shades of embarrassment and overtones of anger towards that person who took their life.

There is so much we don’t understand and so many lack compassion for those whose lives have been turned upside down and ripped open.

Recently, I met someone. He’s incredibly sweet and kind. I have no idea where this will go but it seems to be heading into an actual relationship. We’re on the road, now we just have to agree to walk forward, together.

I told him about Brian because I felt he should know. Certain things trigger my fragile emotions and there are songs that come on the radio which will cause me to burst into tears. I think it’s only fair that someone who is spending time with me be aware of what the heck is going on in my head.

So I fessed up. I figured one of two things would happen a) he’d run away screaming or b) he’d be empathetic and wish to understand.

He chose b).

He was honest…telling me that he truly didn’t know what to say and was afraid he’d say something stupid that would upset me so he told me he felt it best if he simply offered to “listen”.

This is what true friends do. They listen. I’ve known this fellow for about a week and already he’s earned my respect and gratitude.

Because…really, that is all we ever need, sometimes: someone to simply listen to us.

Thank you, Universe, for bringing this man into my life. Even if romance doesn’t evolve, friendship certainly has. And friendship is the best foundation for any relationship.

Let’s begin anew. Let’s live in the moment and appreciate what is in front of us and look forward to the future with an open heart.

Let’s dream a little…

Flow

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 29, 2015

Lately, there’s been a lot of talk about flow, flowing, going with the…etc. I have my own thoughts on that. But first, let’s take a good look at this word:

Flow:

verb

(of a fluid, gas, or electricity) move along or out steadily and continuously in a current or stream.
go from one place to another in a steady stream, typically in large numbers.

Noun

the action or fact of moving along in a steady, continuous stream.
a steady, continuous stream of something.

I noticed that both the verb and noun, more or less, mean the same thing: a steady and continuous stream of whatever fits the bill. It could be your life, your day, your period (haha) or the meandering stream that runs behind your house.

Generally, this speaks to most of us about movement within our life. If you think about it, nothing is ever stagnant. Life moves along pretty much on its own and will continue to do so, with or without us. It’s a simply law of time. In our universe it only ever goes in one direction and at a pretty consistent pace. Unless we’re talking about the event horizon of a black hole, but that’s a whole other discussion.

If this interests you, you can learn more from Stephen Hawking here.

Okay, where was I? Oh yes…the flow of life.

Although I’ve always known this (it’s just common sense), I’ve been paying more attention to things ‘not’ flowing in my life and the things that are. It stands to reason that if things are flowing along nicely, that this could be a good indication that you’re doing things right. In other words, on the right life path. It could also stand to reason that if you were to ‘step off’ the right life path that you may find yourself suddenly scrambling to swim upstream with all sorts of currents and eddies. There could even be a rip tide! Yikes.

This is terribly frustrating because here we are going merrily along and suddenly we’re struggling. Things get hard, you feel uneasy and nothing falls into place, any longer.

But you know, we rarely sit ourselves down and think: gee, maybe what I’m doing here just isn’t working out… Perhaps I should head in the other or a different direction where the waters are calm again.

Nope. We typically continue to thrash about, desperate to keep our heads above the water and ultimately, we sometimes fail. We are no longer ‘flowing along’, we’re fighting everything and it’s an uphill battle we’re not winning.

Take a look at what’s ‘working/flowing’ in your life and see what it is. Does it seem easy? Things just magically fall into place? What about the stuff that isn’t flowing – the difficult crappy things that you just can’t get ahead on.

Where does your focus lie?

Are you concentrating on the stuff that just isn’t going where you want it to, or…are you focusing on the things that do?

Here’s what I think. Scrap the shit that isn’t sticking to the wall and really pay attention to the energy that you feel when things are RIGHT.

Do it. Try it. Just for one moment. Go ahead….I’ll wait.

……………………….

There. Doesn’t that feel much better? It’s an easy shift of thought and energy. Because, you know, WE are in charge. Oh, yes, we are. We can drop the hard stuff any time we choose to. Life, after all, is ALL about choices.

Choose the easy route. Choose to flow rather than struggle. You’ll thank me for it, later.

Peace.

Finding That Soul Connection

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 26, 2015

In the past, when I was searching the world over (okay, the Lower Mainland), for a mate, I didn’t give much thought into listening to my inner voice to see if there was a true soul connection, or not. I think I just sorta went for it and hoped for the best.

This whole experience with Brian has moved me into seeing things very differently. I’m still in the process of putting myself back together and in doing so, I’m recreating myself. I hope, a ‘better’ self. I’m redefining who I am, what I want and what it is I’m here to learn/teach, in this life.

Recently, I decided that rather than jump into a potential relationship, should one actually present itself, I would prefer to ease into it. I’m not really sure what that means, exactly, but the word ‘ease’ resonates with me. It means: the absence of difficulty or effort; it means move carefully or…gently.

I’ve met a lot of men in my life but not all of them have had a soul connection with myself. Part of it is that feeling you get when you look into someone’s eyes and think: I’m supposed to be here, with you, this very minute in time, and it’s important that I really SEE YOU for who you are. That means all the bad stuff along with the good stuff.

I’m totally down with that and it makes a whole lot of sense given the past circumstances. Although I’m more than certain Brian and I had (and still have) a soul connection, I jumped into the deep end with eyes closed. I think I had to and there are no regrets, whatsoever. That situation was a one-off and I don’t intend to repeat it. Going forward, my eyes will be wide open.

True soul connections are all around us but not exactly a dime a dozen. That being said, I’m learning how to recognize them, better. They are the ones who will let you down easy if it’s not the right situation for either of you to be in. They are the ones who actually ‘give a shit’. They are the ones who recognize you as a kindred spirit and if you needed them, would be there for you.

This is what we should endeavor to find or keep in our lives whether it be friends or partners.

Who are your soul connections?

Online Dating: When They Get Nasty

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 23, 2015

Sometimes, even when you try and let them down easy…people get nasty. It hasn’t happened to me for a while but I knew, eventually, it would. I could have simply ignored this fellow, blocked him, and gotten on with things. I chose to take the high road telling them that I didn’t think (after several back and forth emails spread over two-weeks) that we had made a connection. I then wished him well in his search.

He didn’t seem to be the smartest cookie in the jar to begin with and did what a lot of emotionally insecure people do: immediately retort back with an insult, making silly typos as he pounded at the keyboard, clearly pissed off at the rejection.

I had a laugh…blocked him and life goes on.

It’s a slippery slope as when this occurs I’m tempted to just start being a snot and ignoring people when I’m getting bored with them. However, I’m a lady and I know what it’s like to be ignored just because someone can’t find the decency to tell me they’re not interested any longer.

My advice is to stay the course and be considerate with everyone; it’s just good energy and Karma.

Online Dating Etiquette

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 20, 2015

It think it’s important to always put our best foot forward in life. If we slack off just because we’re not doing things ‘in person’ …what does that say about us? Laziness is not becoming, especially when it comes to searching for a mate.

So. What is the etiquette for online dating sites? What are the expectations and where do we fall short?

Let’s start with the basics:

Honesty.

You’d be surprised (or perhaps you wouldn’t) how many people lie within the first few paragraphs of their online profile. Anything from age to height to weight and even what they look like, can be deceiving. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve met someone who clearly had old (as in many years) pictures of themselves posted when they’d obviously seen better days. One wonders why they think they’ll get away with this as nobody does. Not unless you’re dating a blind person.

Whatever fib you tell is going to be found out about at some point. Keep it honest and you’ll be successful; BS about stuff and you’ll fail, at some point, every time.

What if someone messages you and you aren’t interested?

This is a tough one because, although I hate ignoring people and being ignored, there is a place and time for everything. I never respond to people far away from me and those that are either really young or really old. I think it’s foolish to assume otherwise. But, if someone messages me and they’re not what I’m looking for, I always respond kindly and tell them. This could backfire as I’ve gotten nasty, rude emails back in the past. But that just tells me I really made the right choice! I also will never respond to someone who doesn’t put any thought, whatsoever, into messaging me. It’s all about 1^st impressions and if all you can do is say: “Hi.” Well…you’re about as interesting as watching paint dry and I’m not going to waste my time with you.

What if I no longer want to message someone for whatever reason but they’re expecting me to respond?

Honesty really is the best policy and there are several polite ways to tell someone that you’re no longer interested. Maybe you met someone and you want to see where it goes? Maybe they said something too weird or offbeat for you…perhaps they just got boring? By the way, Match.com offers a handy little drop down box to select your ‘thanks but no thanks’ response. I like that idea.

Tell them in a polite way that you no longer wish to correspond. Be creative but caring. I hate it, personally, when I think things are going along smoothly and then Mr. Cute Guy goes radio silent and I don’t know why. It’s rude and if you’re rude before you even meet me, what would you be like if I were your girlfriend.

What if they NEVER invite me to meet them and we end up more as pen pals?

This is silly. I always wait for the man to ask me to meet him as I know men like the chase. They’re hunters, after all. If they don’t, eventually I will ask them if I really like them or, I will bow out, gracefully. It’s competitive, clearly they’re busy with others and you’re not at the top of the list so, why waste your time when they are probably stringing you along in case’ Hot Girl #1 or #2 doesn’t work out?

My advice is to be clear in your profile what you are looking for. Also, don’t let it read like a resume. Unless you’re a stunning model, men actually do read profiles. I know…I’m NOT stunning and I get compliments on my profile all the time and from all over the world.

Be creative and may the romance be with you!

Online Dating is a Crapshoot

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 18, 2015

I seem to be getting nowhere but still I’m not deterred. It’s a crapshoot and I suck at gambling but here I am. I start a conversation…we go back and forth a bit and then “poof” cute guy disappears from site. Or…cute guy is now ignoring me. I will point out that these are usually men that I’ve reached out to, first, but not always.

I’m certainly getting a lot of attention but not from those that I think are good matches for me. I’m picky and I should be. If someone is into dancing…that’s just not going to work, I suck at dancing and unless I’m drunk, I will not be enticed onto the dance floor. I try very hard to NOT get drunk.

However, if you’re into Latin Dancing, that’s different and I’d love to learn it. I’m terrible at wriggling about on the dance floor in a far-too-noisy club and I just look stupid. It was cool when I was 20; not so cool when I’m nearly 50.

If the first line on a man’s profile is about their kids…or God, I run. I get that you have children; it’s not something terribly uncommon and you’d be surprised to know that MOST people have one or more. BUT – this is a dating site. It’s about YOU, not your offspring. This is about YOU finding a relationship outside of your children. Yes, they’re important but, again, that’s not what this is about.

Too often I read: my kids, My KIDS! My kids, my kids, my kids…OH! My KIDS!!

Over and over and over.

Congratulations, you had sex and procreated. Yay…you…

Again, dating site, if you have ankle bitters, that’s cool. I don’t have an issue with that. Tell us you have some (so that we know) and leave it at that.

For the boys who need to tell us that GOD is in their life in the first sentence, please let me redirect you to Christian Mingle. There, you will find lots of ladies who are also very much into GOD. And Jesus, too! Good luck!

OKC dudes have left the building, it would seem and so have POF dudes. I simply have to start anew.

I’m okay with that. Actually, I’m impressively good at it!

I’m up for the challenge; bring it on.

Trials and Tribulations of Online Dating Part Deux

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 17, 2015

As I read through a plethora of profiles, some of them stand out. There was one, this morning, which although ‘tongue in cheek’ carried a weighty: “I’m really pissed at you girls” tone. His points were valid, although I’m not guilty of any of the accusations he listed.

Yes, he had a list.

It would seem there are as many flakey women as there are men on POF. This should discourage me, but it actually doesn’t because: I’m not one of them.

I do see, however, how he could scare away a few potential love interests. He ‘expected’ (mistake #1) that if he was messaging someone in the afternoon, that they would meet by that evening. Although this can and does happen, it’s a bit much to ‘expect’ of people who have jobs/kids/family obligations/plans with, well…other people!

He also got all pissy about posting pictures of oneself in faraway countries. I suspect he doesn’t travel much and doesn’t plan to? His reasons for said ‘pissiness’ was that he wanted someone local. I’m not sure why he’d assume someone wasn’t local just because their pictures were taken somewhere other than where claiming to live in their profile; perhaps there’s more to the story.

He also hated seeing pics of cats and dogs in a women’s profiles. I personally don’t have any pics of Z in mine, but I have no issues with men showing me how cute their pets are. I adore animals…so I’m totally cool if they do, too.

He had a lot of negative feedback. Whilst I get it and his obvious frustrations, it’s not a good way to project yourself. He reminds me of the first date I had (some dude named Mike) post, the Brian Debacle, a completely negative, angry, person but one that is clearly reaching out for help.

How does one help such people? I have no idea and would not attempt it; I think it could be catastrophic as they’re so set on having everything fail, that it definitely will.

There was another interesting one from a fellow who was clearly super intellectual. His profile was very well laid out, although an exceptionally long read. I got through all of it but after careful consideration thought that although his ‘wish-list’ was palatable, I got the sense that through that, he was creating a whole list of expectations (again…mistake #1).

Also he was into something called: The Zeitgeist Movement. I did a little research and it seems to be an internet-based cult. Now, I’m exceptionally open minded, but even that may be a little too ‘out there’ for me.

The two that I had positive interactions with, thus far, have not been on in a few days. I’m practicing patience and perhaps both have met others. If that’s the case, I do wish them well, but…the polite thing to do would be to tell me (and every other girl they’re communicating with.

It seems online dating needs some firm etiquette! Stay tuned as I may develop a list and post it here.

May the romance be with you!

The Trials and Tribulations of Online Dating

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 16, 2015

One of these days I’m actually going to meet the man of my dreams. God only knows where…or when…or how, for that matter, but I’m damn determined. I figure he’s not going to suddenly and magically appear at my front door. Thus, I have to be ‘out there’ and available.

This means the dreaded online ‘shopping for a mate’ sites.

I’ve now broken a promise to myself by not only perusing one site…but two. I thought everyone would be everywhere but it turns out that’s just not the case. Oh…I do see some peeps on both sites but for the most part, I don’t.

So, here’s an interesting comparison of two of the FREE online dating sites. They’re really free, but if you want any perks, whatsoever, you have to pay. But many still use the basic features and keep it all at no cost. Personally, there are things I want to know so I pay. It’s not much.

Here are some differences between OkCupid and POF. Firstly you may be interested to know that OKC has purchased eHarmony. In my opinion, eHarmony is a complete rip off and I hate them (just a little).

Match.com bought POF. I’m not on Match simply because that’s where I met Brian and my decision is strictly emotional-based. Too many memories are associated with him on there and although they are good ones, I am emotional enough without creating more things to get upset over. I’m trying to move forward, remember?

*Update. Went on Match, anyway. It’s not so bad. I didn’t burst into tears when surfing around, so all is good, thus far. There seems to be a higher caliber of men on here.

POF is really a free for all. You get matches but you get a TON of them. Plus, there are Ultra matches, you can search and they play this silly little game of: whom you want to meet. I get loads of alerts all day long of men who want to ‘meet’ me. I find this funny because 95% of them don’t bother to look at my profile, which means they are only going by pictures of me.

Also, most don’t bother to message me. The ones that do message me actually read my profile. My conclusion is: they don’t want to actually meet me, it’s just a button to click on that says: You’re attractive to me.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll get a ‘mutual meet’. That means you apparently BOTH want to meet each other! Then begins the waiting game to see if either of you actually will message one another. I find I’m the one mostly doing it. Sometimes I get completely ignored – which is funny! If you want to allegedly meet me, wouldn’t you message me back?! Nope, not if they only find you cute and can’t be bothered to read your profile. Or…read your profile but then think you’re not compatible with them.

Men are odd.

I look at profiles before I click the ‘meet’ button. It just makes sense. I have to laugh, though, every single time I look at someone’s profile, they’ll run and check out mine!

So if you want a man to actually read your profile on POF, you have to read theirs, first.

On OKC, I find that men read my profile, first, but then…they don’t have a ‘meet me’ icon to click. Instead you can ‘like’ someone but only if you’re an upgraded member. Therefore more people are forced to actually check out a profile.

However, you don’t get a lot of matches, maybe one or two, sporadically. You can search, of course, but it’s a pain in the ass. It’s much easier to search on POF.

Everything is based on what criteria you have in your profile, what questions and how you answered them (you have a ton of mostly really dumb-assed questions to answer) and your search criteria.

OKC has changed from the last time I was on it. They’ve re-done a few things and I think it’s more difficult to maneuver. That being said, for some reason, I’ve found there to be better-suited men on that site for me than POF. BUT – they ditch you quick. Several conversations that I thought were going quite well – simply went cold.

It seems the men on OKC aren’t very polite and they don’t know how to tell you they’ve changed their minds. They just start ignoring you. It’s disappointing. I did check out the women on this site and there are a LOT of very beautiful women in my age group. So…I suspect they have far too much to choose from and after careful consideration, I didn’t make the cut, after all.

I haven’t checked out the competition on POF but I was told by a reliable male source that there are not many attractive women on this site. This could be why I get a lot more attention.

Because POF offers a handy filter where people can’t contact you if they don’t meet certain criteria (such as age, having pics….etc.) I’m not bothered by the horny 20 & 30-something-year olds who think I’m a Cougar. I get this constantly on OKC. As well, I get a lot of men from outside of the country on OKC and I don’t get that on POF. This could be the filter, again. It’s handy.

Currently I’ve got one prospect on OKC and two on POF. Thus far, they all seem like decent guys and are showing interest. This could change, though. I’ve not met any of them, yet.

Stay tuned and don’t touch that dial.

Giving Thanks

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 11, 2015

It’s been a hell of a year.

Yet, I’m grateful for all of it. I’m grateful that I elected to come into this life and help choose all of the situations and people that I did, to learn from. I’ve learned one hell of a lot. I’m still learning.

It’s 5 months, to the day, and it’s still ever present in my mind. I can’t help but think of what he and I would be doing…if he were still here. I think about that, daily but little-by-little I’m starting to accept. And bit-by-bit, I’m letting go.

It’s been a long journey and it’s not over, yet.

Today I’m thankful. I’m thankful that I’m here and I’m thankful that I had him in my life. I think I’m becoming a better person because of this experience and this just goes to show you that there is a rainbow after every storm.

Sometimes you just have to go and find it.

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving.

Hope

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 4, 2015

Noun: the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.

Hope is a funny thing for me. I covet it, rely on it, and it manages to propel me forward when I feel stuck inside myself. But things don’t often turn out for the best, do they? This is where I struggle.

Why does one ‘give up’ hope? Should we ever? How can we keep that fire burning, even if it’s dwindled down to a lonely little ember?

I am a writer, businessperson and a photographer, daughter/aunt/sister/friend/cat-caregiver. But mostly…I am just a woman.

I love too hard, hope too hard and try too hard. It’s who I am and I wonder if it’s time to change that. I wonder if it’s time to rein it in and somehow give up…some of that Pollyanna wistfulness and toughen up, but just a little.

My brain tells me to suck it up. My heart tells me to feel. Feel, everything and be okay with whatever flows through me – be it pain or joy. I’ve been accused, many times, of being too sensitive, taking words and actions to heart.

The thing is, in order to be true to myself, this is how I walk through life. This is what brings me the urge to create, to take pretty pictures and text poetry to people who may or may not appreciate it. These are the chances I take. These are the passionate expressions of me. This is how I paint my world. This is how I always manage to LOVE.

I’ve had two men walk through my life in the past twelve months that have left me swaying from grief. One wasn’t ready for me and I was simply someone to make him feel better while he found his self-confidence. Once he did, I was no longer needed and set out with the rest of the trash. He couldn’t even bring himself to be a friend; today I got a final – goodbye. Perhaps it’s for the best.

The other had so much darkness and emotional pain, he encased himself in, he took his own life and shattered the lives around him that loved him the most. But he is the one I always forgive. He is the one I continue to send love to. His was nothing short of the saddest tragedy resulting in the most unbearable circumstances.

I feel somewhat raw and exposed. But still…

There’s that little ember, glowing away underneath all the black and burnt parts of my heart. I can even feel a little heat from her. She’s fragile, tender, yet forever resilient.

But most of all…she is filled with an immeasurable amount of…

Hope…this is where I anchor my soul.

Things People Want You to Know About Suicide Grief

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 1, 2015

I belong to a community called: Alliance of Hope. It’s for people who are dealing with suicide grief. Although I don’t participate as I used to, I do get email updates of what they’re doing.

This is worth sharing. It was sent by the founder: Ronnie Walker who lost her son to suicide, years ago. This is what she has to say:

Last week, we asked our Facebook community to help us design awareness material to educate the public about the experience of suicide loss survivors — for example, the complex emotions, physical or financial challenges, impact on family and friends, etc.

We asked: “If there was one thing you would want people to know, what would it be?”

Here are some of the many responses we received:

“Be patient with us – our lives changed in an instant and we are dealing with physical, emotional, spiritual and mental anguish.”

“Don’t be afraid to ask what happened. Most of us want to talk about our loved one all the time and want people to be aware that we don’t want other people to experience this pain!

“…Very few people understand. In fact in 2.8 years I have not encountered a single person who has understood except the people here on Alliance of Hope.

“Be careful shoving ‘suicide prevention’ information down our throats. We live with enough guilt, we don’t need someone handing us a checklist of all things we coulda/shoulda done differently.”

“…that after losing someone to suicide, we ourselves are at risk of becoming depressed and really need support even if they can’t understand our experience.

“I would like people to know that our loved ones shouldn’t be criticized or blamed for their actions. There are so many complex issues involved in most suicides. My own son died following a battle of many years against mental illness and it really hurts me to think that some people (who have very little knowledge of what he went through) would accuse him of being selfish or thoughtless for ending his pain.”

“…be mindful that it hurts when people make comments like … ‘I want to kill myself’ in passing. They say it because their day isn’t going right – not aware that to someone who has experienced loss in this way it’s like laughing in their face or pouring salt in a never healing wound.

“This kind of grief takes sooo much energy…..”

The Path of Least Resistance

Posted by fragmentedpoet on September 25, 2015

I’m a very justice-oriented person. If I see something that I don’t think is fair, I usually say something about it. If it’s directed at me, I may hesitate but if it’s for someone else, I’ll definitely fight the good fight.

Lately, there has been a sense of incoming potential peace to my somewhat frazzled life during the past 7 months. I’m not sure where that peace emanates from or when it will actually get here, but I feel the need to let it find a place within me. I desperately need it.

Normally when someone takes a shot at me – usually business-wise, but not always. I stick up for myself. However, perhaps I don’t ‘need’ to take it personally. Perhaps I don’t ‘need’ to let it get to me.

I think I’ll let it go, allow it to wash over me like clean rain…and watch it dry up into nothingness.

Some days it just doesn’t matter.

Today, it doesn’t. Today, I choose inner peace, gratitude and I’ll start looking again for all the little things that a) matter and b) make me happy.

I’m following the path of least resistance, and it feels good. 🙂

Laying Your Cards On The Table

Posted by fragmentedpoet on September 23, 2015

I seem to be fond of idioms.

Recently, and tentatively, I decided it was time to put myself out there, again. It’s been nearly 5 months and perhaps it’s time.

I have no idea if I’m ready, I suppose I’ll find out… And I had a long conversation (through tears) with my best friend about it and what I should be prepared for – such as disappointment.

I figure I can prepare myself for that and many other things but most of all: create no expectations.

I need to get out of this funk. I suspect it won’t happen anytime soon, but a few distractions may help. I’m tired of feeling such sorrow. I’m tired of the constant flow of tears and I’m tired of suffering. I think I’m choosing to suffer and I needn’t.

The fact is: Brian is dead. He’s not coming back. I can’t change what happened. I’m still HERE and he’s well…not.

Also, I’m fairly certain he’d want me to move on and be happy at some point. He’s like that.

So. Onwards and upwards.

It’s really only been a few days and I ventured onto just one site. I figure everyone is everywhere (that’s been my experience in the past) so why waste my time on multiple sites when all the single eligible men are pretty much on the site I’m on, anyway?

As much as I’d LOVE to meet someone organically – it just isn’t working. The meet-up groups I join (and you can see the members) are mostly women and older men. Older as in 60+.

Thus far, I’ve been ignored by all the guys I find both physically and ‘on-paper’ attractive. I do read through profiles and give that careful consideration. I have been getting lots of offers from much younger men and men across the border. Neither of which I’m interested in.

So, in all fairness, I’m not being completely ignored. But I’m not getting any quality leads, either.

It’s early days. I am remaining hopeful.

I do try and make my profile different – as in: it doesn’t read like a resume. I’ve been somewhat successful with that in the past and I do change it up fairly regularly. As a writer, I want to come across as interesting rather than ‘like all the other girls, out there’.

I’m different. I like that about me. I’m interesting and intellectual. I think those are positive traits.

As well, I’m cute. Super cute, if I can quote my late boyfriend. He thought so and told me, often.

Cute goes a long way! I’ll never be stunning or beautiful and I’m okay with that. I’m all that and more on the inside so it’s all good. The man who I’ll offer my heart to will see that and see me for everything that I am.

I’m picky. I need to be picky as I’m tired of playing this game and winding up with people who I’m not compatible with. Settling is stupid and a waste of time. Just to be clear, I never thought I ‘settled’ with Bri. I thought he was perfect just the way he was and had he chosen to stay on this planet, I’d have worked with him endlessly to make sure he was okay. Even if he decided I wasn’t the right girl for him, I would have been his friend, forever.

I can accept faults and flaws. That’s what makes us unique and wonderful. NOBODY is perfect. How boring would that be if we were?

The difficult part in deciding whether or not to respond to someone is: we all make snap judgements. I put all my cards on the table as I don’t want any surprises along the way. I want to avoid the conversation:

“Oh…so you believe in the spirit world…I see, well – I think we’d just better call it quits because you’re too weird for me.”

Plus, I have no patience for people trying to convert me to religion and quoting Bible scriptures. I’m okay with whatever someone wants to believe it as long as we are respectful of each other, are open-minded and can agree to disagree.

I’m an upfront and honest gal. I’m a Reiki healer. Some people find that strange because it’s something they can’t measure or see. I’m okay with that. I’m okay with being ‘out there’. I happen to like that about myself. 🙂 🙂

So!

Here I go, again… I’m not expecting much be perhaps the distraction will curb the constant tears and sadness. And maybe, jusssst maybe, I’ll meet someone who I will adore and who will find me all that and a bag of chips.

Wise Words

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 26, 2015

When Brian first took his life, I joined an online site to share in my grief, with others. At that time, I really didn’t know ‘what’ to do…

Occasionally, I get emails from them with updates. This was posted by someone named, Sharon, on this site.

I re-post her words because I completely relate to them:

“Here are some of the things I’ve learned”

I’ve learned that some people will never, ever ‘get it.’

I’ve learned that learning to forgive takes a lot of practice. I’ve learned that some sorrow is so deep that it has no words.

I’ve learned that the community of sorrow is the strongest of all.

I’ve learned that your life can be changed in a matter of minutes. I’ve learned that you can keep going long after you think you can’t.

I’ve learned that ignorance isn’t an excuse for the lack of compassion.

I’ve learned that friends can become strangers, and strangers can become friends.

I’ve learned that love isn’t measured by the amount of time you have with someone.

I’ve learned that the people you care most about in life are sometimes taken from you too soon.

I’ve learned that no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn’t stop for your grief.

I’ve learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words, It may be the last time you see them.

“–Originally posted on the Alliance of Hope Forum by Sharon”

Mankind: Enlightenment, Technology & Survival

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 18, 2015

I’ve given this a lot of thought. I will say that throughout this post I’ll be ‘generalizing’ and there are lots of ‘IMO’s’ –(In my option’s) so…be forewarned.

It think it’s safe to say that we’ve gone from zero to one million KM/hour in the last 100 years (maybe less) with respect to technology. Unfortunately, the average human being in regards to spirituality/enlightenment and just plain old ‘getting along with one another’…is somewhat lacking.

If you don’t believe me, watch an episode of Honey Boo Boo or Big Brother and then come and tell me what you think of ‘us’ as intelligent beings. Then turn on the international news to see how nice we are to our fellow human beings.

‘Nuff said.

So. While we certainly have a growing group of those that are here to better the planet and all life upon it, it’s a rather smallish crowd in comparison. It’s also an interesting thing to be part of in this time period. We are systematically killing off our planet (our animals), and really taking a good stab at *pun intended* ourselves at the same time we are trying to evolve as spiritual beings and get everything back on track before it’s too late.

Quite the paradox we have going on, here, don’t ya think?

That being said, we keep developing/inventing/designing better methods to, well…BETTER ourselves. Some of us are bettering our planet, as well. I’m currently reading a magnificent 3-part blog post by Tim Urban of “Wait But Why” and it’s got me thinking. It’s got me thinking about our potential demise and our option to expand into the solar system in order to ‘preserve our human race.’

But, will we be spiritually ready for that when/if it happens? Let’s back up a little and take a look at this.

Although I don’t share Elon Musk’s view that our bodies are really hardware and our consciousness is software, I don’t think this is too far from the truth. Now…bear with me because this is my ‘cosmic girl’ beliefs and you may not share them.

Think Matrix, but not quite.

There are actual honest-to-God living scientists who think our Universe might be a computer program. Or, if that doesn’t bend your brain, enough, it could also be a hologram or a black hole. Evidently there are ways to look into this.

So, if that’s the case and if you believe (as I do) that we are really much more advanced spiritual beings (Souls) in the guise of human bodies… who come here into the physical world to ‘experience/grow/learn, etc. (stuff we can’t do to the same degree back at home in the Spirit Realm) then Elon is on to something.

If you’ve never heard of this guy, here’s a quick run down on who this Elon Musk dude is. He’s one fascinating man and it seems he’s genuine in his wish to better the planet and it’s inhabitants. Yes, he’s filthy rich and not a Saint, but hey…he’s human just like the rest of us.

Elon is working on a wide range of super cool and wonderful things from awesome electric cars (Tesla), solar power (Solarcity) to… SpaceX. Yes, he’s also the dude who wants us to colonize Mars and if you read through the entire blogs posts, Tim does have a point on why such a thing is necessary. It really is very logical and seeing that Elon is winning at everything he does (even when the odds are stacked against him and it seems like he’s completely run out of ALL options).

Either he’s an absolute genius, or he’s the luckiest human being, EVER. I’m going with option (a).

So, you may sit back and have a laugh at the Mars colonization concept, but it’s completely doable. At least if Elon is in charge as it’s simply statistics. Chances are that he’ll succeed at some point.

Now, here’s the thing and this is what I’m getting into.

Are we ready?

Just look at all the shit we’re doing, here! What’s to stop us from taking all of our Earth-crap with us to Mars? I mean, he’s thinking a million people ought to do it. How much trouble can a million people get up to all by themselves, 225.3 million KM away from Mom and Dad?

I’m thinking, a LOT!

Assume we not only survive, but thrive, there – would we change our ways? There’s not much to destroy on Mars (at least not yet but I understand it’s possible to terraform given enough time, effort and know-how) so 1 million people in habitats possibly not all getting along could cause a few…issues.

Also, there’s that whole close confinement thing. With all the open space on earth, things to do, places to go, etc. we STILL can’t behave ourselves.

Elon’s theory is that we need to ensure the survival of the human race and as it so happens, we’re well on our way to annihilating it, instead. You may think I’m exaggerating, but if you look at all the data available, I may not be too far from the truth.

My question is: even if we save of our physical selves by expanding outwards, how do we safeguard the survival of our soul-selves by expanding inwards if we’re simply not there, yet?

What is preventing us from simply destroying ourselves all over again, only quicker? What happens if our fellow humans on Mars (now actually Martians) want to war with Earth, at some point, over resources? I’m surmising, here, and of course this would be way into the future, but anything is possible if we don’t evolve as people, first, before we attempt guarantee our survival.

We seem to find endless things to squabble about but not enough things to bring us all together as a team. I’m hoping that the growing number of people trying to better ‘us’ will start to pick up the pace, a little, so that we’ve actually got a stab at sticking around for the long term.

Mankind really is amazing in the big picture, so it would be a shame if we didn’t.

Because of free will, no one can really predict the future. Real life isn’t a Hollywood Drama so we may not save ourselves at the last second. But if we did, would we repeat ourselves, endlessly?

I’m an optimistic person. I have HOPE. I’m not alone in this and it’s an extremely powerful emotion. If I were a betting woman, I’d say the odds are 50/50 as to how this will play out at this very moment.

I’m hoping this will change and as we push outwards to the final frontier, we also look within to our core being and really take a good look at who we are becoming as a species.

Dear Soulmate

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 14, 2015

While I’ve written letters to bring positive energy/people and situations into my life before, I’ve never blogged about it on the internet.

Over the years I’ve practiced positive manifestation about several things – careers and relationships, alike. I have to say I’ve been WAY more successful with the career thingy. However, I will also point out that my last partner had every quality I was ever looking for. It’s just most unfortunate and heartbreaking he chose to leave us before his time.

So, I was close…

I do believe in spirit guides, spirit helpers (Bri, I know you’re now one of mine and thank you for that), angels and whatnot. I also know we DO have complete freewill and also the power to CREATE. We can manifest just about anything if we put our minds to it.

As an example, I’ve brought money into my life over and over again. This has been most helpful when I really needed it.

I think bringing in the right partner is a little trickier due all of the soul agreements we’ve made before we decided to come here in the first place. That being said, I think we can still bring other souls into our lives if they’re willing. This may fall under the whole ‘freewill’ (or Free Willy if you’ve got a weird sense of humour) ACT.

The thing is…I don’t particularly believe in the whole ‘soulmate’ theory. I think we have many souls that we’re compatible with. Some we’ve known over and over, again. Possibly we have a soul ‘team’. But hey…semantics. I want a mate…who has a soul, so, therefore, Soulmate!

So here goes. The last guy left far too early and changed the whole game plan, so I think anything can happen. It’s certainly worth a shot.

Dear soulmate/life partner/lover/best friend,

I’m looking forward to meeting you, one day (or night). Perhaps I already have and we’ve just not reached the right time, yet. I hope you’re looking forward to me, too.

I have a lot to offer. I know you do, as well. Together, we can create, built and managed a beautiful life on earth if we choose to. Together we can be a team that will weather through storms, heartbreak and heartache. We can grow, learn, play and experience everything and anything we wish to.

Individually, we can stand side-by-side in support of each other; a whole person who offers strength, wisdom, FUN and adventure. Love, of course, is a given. Because, really, that’s where we come from and that’s all there is. The rest are just experiences to understand the difference between love and everything else that is not love-related. Sometimes, as humans (EGO), we get lost in the latter. The Soul and Spirit, however, never forget who they are.

I’m almost ready for you…but not quite so I’m giving you a heads-up. It’s the considerate thing to so.

I’m still healing (there are still many hurts) and perhaps you are, too, or maybe you’re just waiting patiently for me to stroll right into your life. Either way, when the time is right for both of us, the Universe will help make it happen.

I believe in you, Soulmate. I also trust you and respect you. These are the things I offer freely and openly without question. I also love you. This I serve up with a few nice side dishes of romance, passion, friendship and humour. The last one is not least, by the way and I present all of this in a buffet of unconditional.

If I start to set all sorts of conditions (and I’m guilty of that in the past but recent events have made me realize I’m most capable of not doing that, I hope I can keep it up) we could fail. It’s most difficult not to stick conditions on things because we are responsible for our own happiness, not another’s. But in saying that, if I give all of this to you freely and without conditions (as much as my EGO will allow me) and you manage to do the same, (I’m reasonable, I’ll take ‘almost’ and ‘close to’ as options) it’s a win-win!

Please know that I don’t expect to live in a fairy tale. We’re not children and without challenges, we never grow as souls. I’m happy to take the good days with the bad days. But I will strive to help resolve any issues that we create between us. I’m going to just bet you’ll do the same. 😉

Some say that relationships are work. I disagree. I think they are a journey between two people. Consider us embarking on a pilgrimage to better ourselves and each other. However long this journey lasts is okay. I pledge to value and appreciate every moment with you. I may not enjoy every moment and you most certainly won’t! We’re not perfect. That, would just be boring.

It’s your quirks, your flaws, your weird and interesting habits and your idiosyncrasies that will indelibly imprint you onto me. It’s those that I will be wild about because it’s what makes you interesting to my heart.

I’m not ready, just yet…but I’m almost there. Just around the corner I will be waiting for you.

Until then,

With love,

Me~ xox

Brain Farts and the Science Behind it

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 13, 2015

Today I was chatting away with a coworker, during lunch. We often talk about different movies and television shows that pique our interest. Most of these are on Netflix. This has absolutely nothing to do with the topic at hand, but I thought I’d throw in a little distractor. I’m sneaky that way. Now you’re thinking about the latest thing you’ve watched on Netflix, aren’t you?

Moving along.

I was trying to remember a series of very well-known movies that this particular actress (which we were discussing) was featured in. I came up blank. In fact, I couldn’t remember a single name of ANY of the famous actors who played in the movie or even the general topic. Bizarre. Someone had snuck up behind me and managed to remove half of my cerebral cortex without my written consent.

I’ve watched these movies a number of times. When I tell you what it is, you’ll completely get it. But there I was…stumped. It’s as if Gandalf, himself, was standing there with his magic walking stick, thrusting and shaking it in my direction whilst screaming at the top of his lungs, “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!”

My brain was locked up. I decided to try the back door to see if I could get in that way. I got in, alright, only to discover a gang of crickets just hanging around, smoking and scratching their groins. They didn’t even have the decency to chirp. One even turned to me with an annoyed look on his face as if to say:

What…?

Apparently the aliens had removed my entire brain.

I was starting to look like some frantic lunatic in front of my poor coworker as I spat out words into incomplete sentences that went more or less like this:

“It’s the…!!! You know, that guy…who…, his name is….!!! Oh GAWD! I CAN’T!!! JEEEZ!”

“Who the frig STOLE MY BRAIN?!”

As it turns out, there is a perfectly logical explanation that’s not only been documented but several people have given this phenomenon, serious thought. In fact, one of them first started researching this socially awkward and random occurrence in 1890. Possibly that’s when someone noticed it was nearing an epidemic and thought it wise to look into it.

It was then coined: TOT (tip-of-the-tongue syndrome). Then, in 1966, a fellow named David McNeil published a whole paper on it in the Journal of Verbal Learning and Verbal Behavior. You can download it here.

So, what’s this TOT thing all about and why is it happening (mostly to me, I’m convinced) anyway?

Evidently, it’s partially to do with age. No huge surprise, there. There are also a number of other factors that contribute to this annoying irritant. Sleep deprivation, anxiety, alcohol and distraction and basically anything that can affect your physical and cognitive health will be party to this and make it happen more often.

In recent years the causes have become much more interesting: psycholinguistic, for example. My, that’s a fancy word, now what the heck does it mean? Essentially, it’s the study of how the psyche responds to words and languages. So, an issue would be a temporary breakdown in your vocabulary word retrieval.

A large portion of: names, dates, places and numbers decided to go on vacation without checking with the rest of us, first.

Unfortunately I don’t have good news, fellow cranium-flatulators, on fixing this intolerable behavior. There are not a lot of ‘fix it’ solutions out there. However, one fellow made a few up of his own. Dr. Gary Small, a ‘professor of psychiatry and aging’ at the UCLA SEMEL Institute developed the: “Look, Snap, Connect” technique. If you’re interested, you can find out all about it, here.

I’m quite relieved that this is a relatively common phenomenon, even though I suspect I suffer from it far more than others.
I’m going to go with the: My-brain-was-full-and-I-needed-it-for-more-important-things theory.

Oh! And the move was X-men. See? Completely common, everybody has seen it and I haven’t a clue why I drew a blank.

The Line

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 5, 2015

There’s a fine line when dealing with internal and external clients. I’ve been doing what I do for 28 years and I think I’m pretty good at it. One of the things I’ve learned along the way is that no matter what, your customers are everything.

Sometimes, this means getting on the nerves of those ‘internal’ clients. These are your fellow co-workers that you need on your side, to do your job. Usually, they play in the technical, accounting or HR field. They also don’t ‘get’ sales people. Often, they’re not really client-centric. I find this funny because without customers, companies are nothing.

So. I will push the envelope with various team members to ultimately better fulfill our client’s needs. At times, this is necessary as much is at stake. It’s not all about getting the sale, for me. It’s about customer satisfaction, long-term relationship building, trust and yes, my reputation is tossed in there, too.

I not only sell software solutions, I sell engineering solutions and this means….a high-end project that needs to be managed, massaged, hugged and babysat.

I don’t actually manage the projects but sometimes the project managers need a little…nudge?

I’m always polite, but yes, people get pissed off at my tenacity. I really don’t care. It’s not about them.

You’re busy. I get that. I’m busy, the client is busy, the whole friggin’ planet is busy!

You’re not special by saying you’re busy. That’s an excuse for poor time management. Work smarter not harder, remember?

I may piss a few team members off, now and then, but I get the job done. I bring value to the client (especially after they’ve just spent $60K and are looking to spend about $60K more).

I CARE. I care about doing good business and making sure everyone is happy.

I usually get my way. People forgive that I nudged them (which is really just code for following up).

Client is happy. I’m happy. Technical Project Manager is getting over it and will be happy…

I walk the line.

It’s a fine line but life is good.

Running Before The Wind

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 2, 2015

Amongst other things, this is a sailing term. Many years ago, my now ex-husband co-owned a sailboat. And thus I was privy to learning how to sail.

Running, in sailing terms, is heading downwind with as much canvas as you can muster. This is what a spinnaker is used for. If you’ve never seen a spinnaker in full bloom on a windy day out in the bay…I highly recommend it. You’re missing out.

It’s truly an amazing and beautiful thing to see a sleek vessel completely under wind power, gliding across the sea with a massive kaleidoscope of coloured cloth, leading the way. It’s a high-speed, whimsical ride with whitecaps crashing on your bow and deep waters, rushing by.

It’s somewhat short lived, but it’s part of every journey and after we furl the majestic spinnaker to replace it with easier to maneuver sails like a jib or genoa, we can carry on our journey in the direction we wish to. We can tack or jibe with relative ease and not worry about the direction of our wind because we are in control, now.

The wind is our power source and we are the manipulator, the conductor of it.

However, there is something about having the wind at your back and not being in complete control that is exciting. There is a danger to jibing (you don’t want to do that when you’re doing this) and you have less steering ability; your boat is less stable. A sailboat that seemed under control can instantly become over-canvassed and in danger of a sudden broach.

The past three months, actually even before that, have been the most challenging, the most groundbreaking and life changing months of my life.

I think I’ve tackled my grief head-on and walked, consciously and directly into the centre of the fire. It burned like hell. But to dance around the outskirts, yelling that it’s going to hurt, is fruitless. This is how I live my life; I deal with the shit without hesitation because I’m only prolonging the inevitable if I don’t. I read that many people who go through suicide grief become numb. I was never numb. I didn’t shove the pain aside and busy myself with life. I’m incapable of doing that.

Bring on the fire, let me experience the pain and the burn. Let me live in the intensity so that I understand and truly appreciate the love I felt before and after it.

At times the sorrow has been unbearable and I’ve questioned my very existence. In fact, I’ve questioned every aspect of my life, many, many times.

I have no answers, only more questions but I’m stepping outside of that fire and pain. At least, for a little while… I may return. I may waltz right back in there so that I never ever forget just what I lost. I don’t want to forget. I want to remember everything in minute detail. This is how I learn.

But now, I’m on my boat, with the wind at my backside and it’s a fine wind, I feel the power racing me forwards into full on sunlight. I hear the roar of the sea, smell the air and taste the salt on my lips.

It’s time to start healing, time to carry forward in every moment, relish every breath, drink in the day and fly into the night.

It’s time to love life, again.

I’m running before…and with, the wind.

October 19th is not that far away.

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 1, 2015

Election Time in Canada

How they twist and turn,
Big slimy fish in a tiny puddle
their long tongues wagging side to side
lies, lies, lies-
like lilies they appear, virgins in white
Lubricated smiles with veneer promises

believe – trust – submit
hands grasp your arm with conviction
eyes lock onto yours
you can always tell by the shine
deception is brilliant

Secrets locked away
bright copper pennies that
are stuffed into fat piggy banks
they will draw them out
a plethora of decadent daydreams
smashing the plaster swine

One at a time
they are tossed into your lap,
trying to capture your support
feigning aplomb,
pretending you are
important

What you think matters,
for about five minutes
then it’s on to the next
morsel

We eat them up-
those tasty campaign promises
we serve them with butter, a
dash of salt for prosperity
swill it down with expensive
vintage
believing all will be well

Tomorrow Is

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 24, 2015

Another day to remember him; an opportunity to meet more souls that loved him.

Peeling back the layers of truth and unwinding all of the tightly coiled springs of instant grief is humbling. Every now and then I have a reality check; I remind myself that I was blessed to even know him for the short time that I did because I suspect there was a large possibility this was always going to happen.

I believe we make choices on what we want to experience in each lifetime before we get here. I guess he and I agreed to experience this, together, should he decide to use this exit strategy; clearly that’s what he did. He would have had to agree to experience this with every other soul in his life so…in essence and on a higher soul level, we already knew this was going to be a strong possibility.

So. What do we take from that? What have we learned?

I’m still processing that.

For those of us moving through this journey, we’ve coloured our paths with him differently, so each journey is unique. Thus, each of us is learning about this terrible pain and sorrow in our own way.

It’s like learning how to swim in and ultimately escape quicksand. It’s hellishly difficult but not impossible if you know what you’re doing. Evidently…slow and careful movements are called for.

We’ll get through this, all of us, but there will be scars.

People are confused, broken, cracked open and are having great difficulty really processing exactly just what the hell happened and why it did. Personally, for me, I’ve been thrown off of the life tracks I was on and I’m currently trying to pick myself up and find my footing while getting constantly caught up in-between the rails.

In truth, my heart thinks it’s been shredded. I’m running around trying to find all of the tiny pieces so that I can somehow shove it all back inside my chest. All the King’s horses and all the King’s men are having great difficulty putting Carrie back together, again.

It happened; it’s real. He’s gone and he ain’t comin’ back in the same form that he was in.

He left us in body but he’s still around for us, of this, I’m certain. Talk to him. Tell him how you feel. Speak his name out loud and understand that the veil between earth and the afterlife is incredibly thin and close.

As for the why’s…we’ll never really know and understand that but we can and will find an explanation that we can live with. That’s all we can do as this was his path and pain, not ours to understand.

Some days it feels like I’m standing at the bottom of the ocean with the incredible pressure of the sea holding me hostage. Other days it’s as if the big picture reality of everything sinks in and I ‘get it’. I get that this is temporary and so very short in the big scheme of things. I get that we’ll all be together with our loved ones, soon. We’ll all leave this place – just when that is, is the unknown.

I asked the question of why we don’t know this; why aren’t we able to know the time of our impending bodily death? The answer I got was that our choices and experiences would not be as wonderful and enlightening if we did. Instead of living life, we’d be sitting around waiting for ‘that’ to happen so we could return home and probably not pursuing adventures that wouldn’t turn out so well. It defeats the purpose of why we chose to come here, in the first place!

We are here to experience this physical plane in the fullest, most wonderful and amazing way possible. This means every part of life – the good, the bad, the bliss and the pain.

That.

Is why…we are here.

Tomorrow is…another day. Another day to remember why I fell in love with him and be thankful for every single moment that we shared. I’ll be with him, again. When? That’s not for me to know and in the meantime, I need to remember that I have to go out there and love/live…life.

Lost Stars

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 18, 2015

It was an interesting day.

Sharing memories, tears and laughter with people who came together to honour and love a man who touched all of our hearts in the most beautiful way.

It occurred to me that we’re really all the same, struggling to find our way through this sorrow and as I gazed into new and familiar eyes, I realized we are all cut from the same cloth.

Losing someone you love tears people apart; it rips at the very fabric of bonds that were possibly made in heaven.

But unconditional love…

Now, this jewel, brings us all back together, reuniting souls in our grief and loss, giving us a little closure, perhaps a bit of peace and a whole lot of grace. It reminds us of who we really are. And it shows that the one we loved so much…was truly made from~

Starlight.

Saying Goodbye

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 17, 2015

Tomorrow is Brian’s first Celebration of life. I think it’s kinda funny that he didn’t want anything but thanks to his ex-wife and best friend, will be having two! Ha. So there. Take that. And thank you, TC for putting in so much effort. I wish I’d been able to help you more.

The past 2.5 months have been the most emotional that I’ve ever experienced in my life. Had you asked me a year ago how I’d feel about losing someone in the way that I did – that I’d only known for all of three months…I could never have told you it would be this bad.

I loved/love that sweet soul with the entirety that is me; it was complete and whole.

I had dinner with a psychologist friend of mine, last night, and he said that most people would have bolted as soon as there was trouble brewing. I realized that I could never have done that even if I’d wanted to. I was just THAT much in love with the guy.

It was crazy/ridiculous/over-the-moon/head-over-heals love. I simply couldn’t help myself. There was a magnetic pull to him that I’ve never experienced, before. I doubt I’ll ever feel it again. It was both frightening and extreme bliss at the same time.

I have so many wishes…if wishes were fishes, I’d be able to fix world hunger. Really.

One of them is that he’s there, with us, tomorrow. I hope, in spirit, he shows up. I think it’s important for him to see that he was loved by so many people. I think it’s important for him to know he won’t ever be forgotten…and most of all:

That HE mattered. He mattered so very much to so many.

His biggest wound with his ex-gf is that he felt he never mattered to her. She told him that he did. I hope she was being truthful. If not, it’s her loss.

There will be a flood of tears. I’m bringing boxes of tissues because I think they will be needed. I hope there will also be smiles and laughter, too, as we share funny stories of the man who brought so much into our lives.

You touched us, Brian. You touched our hearts and souls. We are so very grateful that you did.

Am so very grateful that I was allowed to love you. I learned a lot about myself, from you; you taught me so much about so many things. You just can’t put a measurement on love. It’s bigger than the Universe and everything beyond.

So…even though it’s a ‘goodbye’ of sorts. It really isn’t. I still talk to him, daily. I still hear him in my head. I still believe he’s looking out for those that love him. He’s really still with us…just not in body.

Being the metaphysical/cosmic chick that I am, I believe in life after life. I believe I’ll see him again and be with him, again. I’ve already asked him for a do-over because I don’t think he and I were quite done. My heart tells me that we’ll get one and if it ends, it will never again, end so tragically. My heart tells me that next time…he’ll be able to properly love me back. I know he desperately wanted to and perhaps in the end, he finally did. I’m sure he does, now.

I’m going with that. 🙂

Until next time, my darling…

Today’s lesson is brought to you by the letter “R”.

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 15, 2015

I’m speaking of Religion.

Ohhhhhh, now I’ve instantly pissed off a bunch of people!

Funny, that. It’s even funnier that I really don’t care.

Let me quantify this with my expressed option (and it’s just that – MY opinion) as well as offer up a disclaimer.

Firstly, I am not religious. That means, I do not belong to any one organized belief system about God. My belief system is base more upon metaphysics. Now, let me define exactly what that means, because, I think a lot of folks don’t understand it.

met·a·phys·ics

ˌmedəˈfiziks/

noun

noun: metaphysics

the branch of philosophy that deals with the first principles of things, including abstract concepts such as being, knowing, substance, cause, identity, time, and space.

There, copied and pasted from the Internet.

Are you still with me?

I like to refer to myself as a cosmic girl. I have many beliefs and theories that resonate with me and there are some aspects of religions that gel with me, too. What I don’t practice – is one, specifically. I also spend an exorbitant amount of time researching and attempting to understand all aspects of life and after life. Seriously, I could send you about a dozen links to what I’m investigating.

Therefore, you could not call me a Christian. Nor could you call me an Atheist.

I do, however, believe in GOD – or the One Source. Or any other name you wish to call it. I also believe we, as souls, are all part of GOD. We are all connected. Each and every one of us, along with every other life form on this little blue-green planet.

We’re all in this together. We are all one – and yes, we’re individual, but all part of THE ONE.

At any rate…again, MY opinion.

I will point out that if your beliefs differ, that’s totally cool with me. I respect that and you. You can believe in whatever you like and if the Hindi faith rocks your boat, go for it! It’s your belief, your path, your heart and life. Not mine.

I don’t judge.

I do, however, resent those that do.

Oh! She’s got a point to all of this…!

Yes, yes, I do.

Something really terrible happened to me (and many others that shared his brief life) just over two months ago. The man I loved and adored left the world in a terrible, terrible way. He chose to take his life.

While the complexity of this situation is steep and almost insurmountable at this stage, it’s a simple fact. He’s gone. He’s gone and those that love him are left here to deal with how we feel. Well, I think I can speak for all of us. It’s complete devastation x about a billion. Scratch that – x about a billion to the 10^th power.

Yes, it’s really, REALLY… THAT bad.

Moving on…

Those that know me and those that I’ve decided to let into my life during the past 49 years (there aren’t very many, I’m choosy) know how I feel about religion. To start preaching to me, YOUR views, especially at a time like this, is seriously disrespectful. It will make me mad.

So, now I’m mad.

I’ve decided it’s not in my best and highest good to have these people in my life. Now, more than ever, I’m standing up for what people believe in and the right to do so. And, oddly enough, this would include YOU!

I’m talking about a lot of things: sexual orientation, personal rights and personal belief structures – I could go on. If there is one thing my mother taught me, well, it’s to: live and let live.

“Each to his own!” she’s always saying.

I like that. It works for me.

As long as you’re not harming anyone else, do whatever the fuck you want.

I don’t judge.

You shouldn’t either.

It’s not up to you. It doesn’t matter if Brian was an Atheist or a Communist. He was neither, by the way, but raised Catholic. It doesn’t matter what YOU believe in. What matters…is that those that loved him are in a shitload of PAIN so intense that if you’ve never experienced it, you should get down on your knees right this moment and pray to whatever God you worship that you never, ever, ever have to go through it.

We don’t need to be told where to find the Lord/Lady. We already know where SHE/HE is and she’s/he’s NOT lost. We don’t need religious Hymns sent to us and to have you jump onto your soap box and start preaching the WORD.

WE – are not interested in YOUR beliefs.

We do, however respect them so – please respect ours.

If you don’t, you will find yourself not included in our lives from this point on. You will find we won’t communicate with you further and you will find that you no longer have us as your friend.

Yes, I’m breaking up with you. Deal with it.

Flying Dragons

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 14, 2015

Wait…I may have that mixed up.

I love dragonflies. Not because they have the word ‘dragon’ in their name. Although I adore dragons (or, I would if they were real). Not because they kinda look like faeries; but in keeping with the theme of make-believe, I LOVE faeries. And, not because they eat mosquitoes; this is definitely a bonus, though, wouldn’t you say?

I love them because they’re all of those things and seem to possess an inquisitive nature.

On my walk around Burnaby Lake, yesterday evening, I encountered one at rest. He (or she…) was happy to let me delicately slip a finger underneath them and have them rest a bit on my hand. It was super cool and I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera.

It seems to be dragonfly season as they’re everywhere. Fine by me, those pesky, blood-sucking mosquitoes are everywhere, too. Even with the dry weather, if I don’t lather myself with ample ‘OFF’, I’m eaten alive.

I had several of these lovely creatures hover around me, on my walk at different times, as if in a questioning manner. I’d stop and stare. It would do the same, wings beating at the speed of light (or too fast for my eyes to see, at any rate). Then flitting inches from me, scooting off into the unknown; only to return a moment later.

It was enchanting. And, damn! They’re fast!

I could hear the high-pitched and musical hum of luminous, transparent flying appendages and I’m almost certain at one point, there was eye-contact. A quick and meaningful moment of exchange passing between two strangers and species, completely at peace with one another.

Don’t laugh; it could happen.

I was circled, inspected and sized up for better or worse before the beautiful critter went off to do other more interesting things… like eat mosquitoes.

It was a good walk.

It’s the little things that make me smile, stifle my deep grief (if only for a moment or two) and let me remember to be grateful for all of the things in this world.

Like dragonflies. Or flying dragons… *grin*

Wishes

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 10, 2015

I wish I’d had time to travel a bit with you…maybe somewhere tropical and fun.

I wish I’d laughed with you a hundred times a day.

I wish I’d kissed you longer and deeper.

I wish I’d held you tighter so that you thought I’d never let you go.

I wish I’d told you more that I loved you.

I wish I’d texted you, emailed you, called you more often.

I wish I’d made you smile every hour.

I wish we’d made love every chance we got – and then some.

I wish you’d really understood how perfect you were to me.

I wish I’d held your hand more often (even if you didn’t like it).

I wish I’d tickled you.

I wish I’d confessed that I wanted to marry you, one day. You would have laughed at that…or run for the hills…

I wish I’d known you much longer and shared so much more time in your company. I think I’d volunteer 10 years of my life for that. Possibly more.

I wish we’d played more chess. We both sucked at it…but you sucked less.

I wish I’d written you more poetry, even if it really wasn’t your thing. I know you appreciated it.

I wish you’d have taken me for a spin on your bike (or one of them). It would have scared the shit out of me but it would have been fun.

I wish…

That I had –

One.

Day.

With.

You.

Yellow

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 3, 2015

Today I’m wearing a pretty yellow dress that a friend had made for me and I, initially, bought it for you. I picked yellow because that’s your favourite colour. I planned to wear it for you when you were still here in this world; now I’ll be wearing it to your Celebration of Life.

I was invited to go to Bali. Then I was un-invited…sort of. The whole thing was disappointing and I ran around like mad trying to put everything into place so I could go. I would have, too, but the person who invited me didn’t really think I’d say ‘yes’. When he realized I was serious about the offer, he back-peddled like mad and then talked both himself and inevitably –me- out of it.

People are always underestimating me. I think you did, too. I don’t think you believed that I’d stick around and be there for you, considering what was going on and who you made this all about. This person whom you couldn’t live with and didn’t think you could live without. It was all a façade to deeper issues…of not loving/liking yourself enough to believe you didn’t need arm candy but a more substantial/meaningful and lasting relationship. The kind you had before you met her.

I get it. You had this super hot girl who everyone wanted and YOU had her. With her, you felt good because if you could score such a pretty and young girl, well then…you just may not be the ogre your mind was telling you – you were.

She made you feel special, she pretended to love you and you fell for that. But, most of all, you wanted to ‘please her’ …because that’s what you do. She’d build you up and then tear you down. It was a pattern that you got used to.

It was all superficial and superfluous. It was all to do with your battered and broken self-worth from God knows when and God only knows what and why. Understand this; long before I even met you – long before you met her.

You were loved.

You were beautiful.

You were funny and treasured and wonderful.

You were exceptional.

You were brilliant and creative and talented.

You were attentive and sweet and had a heart the size of a city.

Today, as I wear yellow, you are very missed… and still – very loved. You are cherished by so many and you will be with us for all of our lives.

In the spring air, when the cherry blossoms are snowing down onto the streets, in the midnight rain…drumming on my flat apartment roof. You’ll be in the morning sunrise and in the evening starlight.

I will see you and do see you, everywhere…

Today I wear yellow. Today I can’t think of anyone but you.

Another Monday

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 29, 2015

7 weeks.

I really wish I’d stop counting.

Yet, here I am, doing it again.

I have a one-way written dialogue going with you and it seems to have spilled over onto my blog. My shrink told me that some people count because they have a specific date in mind, a goal, to which their grief will end and everything will return to normal.

Only, it never does, does it?

We change, we vacillate between being ‘okay’ and totally NOT being okay.

You never met my younger sister. She thinks I should be better by now. She doesn’t get it. She can’t understand how the mere mention of your name constricts my throat and sends a 10′ wall of saline to come flooding out of my eyes like some swollen spring river. She doesn’t understand that I can’t talk about you, unless ‘I’ bring it up and I’m ready to discuss things without falling to pieces.

She means well. She only wants to help take the sorrow away. This is like wanting to cure cancer with a thought. Good luck with that, baby sis.

I’m sleeping like shit but I think I dream of you. Only…I can’t be sure…they’re foggy and filled with undertones of shifting colour and surreal conversations.

It’s been damn hot, here. You’d have needed a fan in your little apartment. Although…it was evident by your camping slippers you shuffled around in, early mornings, and the bathrobe + jammies you’d slip on after sleeping in the nude…that you enjoyed being warm. 🙂

I found that cute, those massive slippers with your pajama pants pooling around the high topped fabric and draw string (because we wouldn’t want any heat to escape…) like a little boy wearing his big brother’s clothes.

“I like to have my feet warm,” you’d state matter-of-fact.

Then, you’d smile your smile, a combination of subtle shyness and a challenging: ‘Go ahead; I dare you to make fun of them’ – look. I’m not sure just how you accomplished such a thing.

You were always sporting opposites like it was normal to do so. Like, being this athletic cycling-dude whilst completely being addicted to Coca-Cola and candy. You actually ‘shopped’ for candy; as in…you had specific places where they sold just the right kind. I thought this both a little odd…and extremely funny. I think you were always a little boy, at heart.

I wonder when I’ll stop ticking off Mondays as: ‘that day when that really bad and horrible thing happened’ ?

Maybe, next week?

I doubt it. I suspect this will carry on for quite some time.

Thinking (far too much) of you, cute boy…. xo

Learning to Deal with Grief

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 22, 2015

Since Brian’s passing, I’ve not only spent countless hours researching this subject but I also purchased a book. My ‘headshrinker’ (as Bri would have called her) is quite helpful and between us…we’re trying to piece together the “why’s” that all of us who knew him, are grappling with. There is the immediate ‘why’ and all of the interesting nuances that overlap that. But, there is also a much bigger picture. It’s the picture of a man who had been struggling for many, many years.

Sometimes it really appears like they’re okay and have healed. Often it’s just a mask they wear as they get by in life, barely clinging on while burying their pain, and the true issue is never addressed. Smart people don’t always tell the professionals that are paid to help them (or people that they love) everything. He told me this, himself. He would pick and choose what to say and to whom he’d say it to.

Life is about choices. We can either choose to be here, or not to be. The majority of us choose to stay. Then there are the few who don’t. In the end we’ll really never know “why” he chose to leave us the way he did. But, I was told that it would do me good to come up with something that I could live with.

Not a damn day goes by that I don’t cry, usually several times throughout the day. Some people have gone on with their lives and are dealing with it in their own way and, most likely, better than me.

I read that as we are all individual people, we all grieve individually and the length is TBD only by us. No one has the right to say ‘get on with your life’ or…’don’t cry’… When we cry, we deal with the pain and heal from it. It’s a process.

What happened is such a TABOO subject that I dare not even write the word here for fear of judgement. But I know people can read between the lines. One day, I’ll be okay to speak about it, openly. That day is not here, yet.

I’ve gone on to do the most difficult thing I’ve yet had to do in this whole healing process. I’ve forgiven him. I’ve forgiven him for many things, including what he did. As well, even though I never met her, I’ve forgiven the woman who brought him so much terrible pain, last November.

I miss him about a million times a day. I only knew him for all of three months and I’m sure there are some out there who think I should just get over it.

But I loved him, you see. I loved him more than any other. There was such a strong pull towards him and even if I didn’t want to, I simply couldn’t ‘not’ love him. I’ve never experienced anything like this in my life. I was completely captivated. He wasn’t … (haha)…but he did care very much for me. I’ll eternally be grateful for that.

I don’t believe in chance. I believe I had to fall in love that deeply to keep me there by his side while he went through this. I think he needed to know that even though ‘she’ didn’t care about him…there was someone who loved him immensely.

Between his best friend (and ex-wife) and I, he felt safe and secure in being who he needed to be during his suffering. I don’t believe either of us could have done this alone and for her support, I’ll always be incredibly thankful.

He became an open book and told me not too long before that terrible night, that he was terrified. I suspect he was; I know I sure as hell would be.

And so one month and two weeks after ‘it’ happened, I’m still on the healing road…but at least, I’m on the road.

I look forward to the day when I don’t post about Brian, when I put fingertips to keyboard and write about something happy, something wonderful.

It may be ways off – I hope not, though. I hope joy is just around the corner.

A dragonfly is a symbol of metamorphosis and transformation. I don’t believe we ever really die. We simply transform into another state of being – we become spirit.

This pic is for you, Brian; I know you’re watching over us and visit, from time-to-time. I hope you like it. 🙂

On Relationships…and bleeding a little

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 18, 2015

This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever written for me. I fell in love with Brian many times throughout our (too short) relationship…this was one of those times.

https://tradervancouver.wordpress.com/musings/

tradervancouver

With those thoughtful pieces of advice in mind, let’s bleed…but just a little.

Last year, a woman I loved and adored, abruptly left me. I spent four years with someone who, I’m quite embarrassed to now admit, never really let me into her life. Ouch, that hurt to write. Aside from a final few obscure texts, she simply silently bolted. I will most likely never know how someone that I trusted, could so swiftly and coldly toss me away. With no exaggeration, I’ve had first dates that were terminated with greater compassion and grace shown towards me. There is some solace in knowing I am not the only one on this planet to experience this, nor will I be the last, sadly. Such is Life.

In my 46 years, it is without a doubt the most hurtful thing anyone has ever done to me.

I have a saintly team of…

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Fireflies

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 17, 2015

It’s the mornings and the nights that are difficult. That is when the world and my mind are most still.

This is when I miss you the most. This is when I wish I could somehow reach out through the very fabric of the Universe, through multi dimensions and on to heaven… and touch you.

At least… one. more time.

One Month

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 12, 2015

Officially, it was yesterday. The ‘official’ one-month mark since he chose to leave this world. I had to leave work, early, and work the rest of the day from home as I couldn’t stop crying in my office. It’s a non-stop show of waterworks, these days. I think I’m starting to show my age.

I’m not sure how others are coping; I don’t think I’m doing that well, but everyone’s grief is different and I was his girlfriend, after all – the woman who was ridiculously in love with him.

The morning of May 11, he texted me this:

I don’t think he knew he was going to go, that evening. I really don’t. Circumstances happened and he couldn’t cope. But I’ll remember this, always. I’ll cherish it like I cherish the memories of his touch, his scent and the soft sound of his voice. I hear him, often, in my head.

Maybe this sweet little sentence he sent will hold true for me, one day. I can only hope, dream, believe…

Still love you, Bri… xo…forever.

Shhhh

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 10, 2015

It’s quiet in my life.

I am reminded of the predawn hours when time seems to stop, just before the birds wake up and my side of the planet is motionless in its slumber. It’s almost soothing at times, and others, tormenting.

I miss the constant flow of emails and texts; an open and ongoing dialogue we had between us. Most of it was wonderful, parts of it were very sad. But I miss them, all the same. It seems like months instead of four weeks since ‘my world as I knew it’ ceased to exist. There is a new one now, a new path I’m walking on. I kinda like it but there is a sadness follows me like a little lost kitten.

I turn back, often, pick it up and comfort it the best I can. I tell it that I love it and that it’s ‘okay’ to be what it is and it can stay with me for as long as it needs to. You need to own your grief; that way it works with you to heal. If you ignore it, it will find you, anyway, and by that time, it will be pissed and you’ll be in serious emotional trouble.

I miss countless things but others I do not. I don’t miss the constant anxiety we dealt with (us, being myself and the woman who was his best friend) and the fear. I miss the fear, the least. It would consume me throughout the day and into the night and early morning. Was he okay? Should I check in? What do I do if he doesn’t?

Our worst fears were realized all too quickly and although my soul wants to place the blame solely on myself, (because I’m good at doing that) I know there was nothing anyone could do. It was his choice. I guess it always was. That’s what life and sometimes death are…choices.

We, who are left behind, live with it and we move forward. It’s not pretty, but we carry on and someday, we’ll remember only the good things and the gifts he gave us. These gifts are precious and I find new ones, daily, to be grateful for. I wonder if I’d have recognized them if he were still here?

I’ll share one. I once asked him what to invest my $$ in. As he was a trader, (and plumber!) I figured he’d have a lot to teach me in that area. As it turns out, not so much…because he felt that wasn’t the best thing for me at this point.

The advice he gave me was:

“Rather than look to what investments you can invest your money into, I would actually suggest you invest it in…yourself. Seriously. At least some of it anyway. Your real earning potential is in fact, You. So why not invest in it? Can you REALLY think of a better use your own money? You commented in the mall that just think of how good a photographer you’d be if you had serious instruction. Well, that’s the sort of thing I’m talking about. I am NOT suggesting you take random courses in quirky things without a plan. That’s stupid. What I am suggesting is that you have a look at your current skills, and what you enjoy doing and want to spend more time on, and what can be financially rewarding, and spend the money to make that happen. It might very well be that something involving your musical talents is your ticket – so maybe you need piano lessons, or even a piano. Or maybe it’s recording time, or equipment. (I’m just throwing out examples, nothing more), so that’s investing in yourself. And maybe it’s not even a big financial commitment, but more of a time commitment – maybe it’s a night class, or two.”

That was what he wrote. It was some of the best advice he ever gave me. So, that’s what I’m starting to do. Thank you for that, Brian. It may be, quiet, here in this world, without you…but you are still teaching me and I can still hear your voice in my head, coaching me to do the best thing, possible, for myself.

I love you for that. xox

Ouchie, Ouch, Ouchie

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 3, 2015

Miss you, Brian; this hurts like hell.

It Just Doesn’t Get Any Easier

Posted by fragmentedpoet on June 2, 2015

Perhaps I’m expecting too much for the short three weeks since his passing. I find myself breaking down several times a day, when privacy allows it. I can’t function for 5 min. without him wandering into my mind.

How did I miss this in the very beginning? What if I’d had my phone with me? Could I have changed things? What could I have done better?

All of these questions, rolling around in my head as if they were massive boulders, crashing into each other and bruising my thoughts.

I want to run away somewhere and leave every thought behind…but this isn’t real life; this is just fantasy.

Time will heal, they say.

Nothing heals this. It may deaden over time, but the wound will still be open.

Fridge Magnet Poetry

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 25, 2015

Mondays are becoming extremely difficult…

How his life kissed this soul
today, I wish he were here
the cat drinks warm, sad rain
I can taste this red bleeding heart.

It’s Been A Day

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 24, 2015

It’s been a better day than I’d thought…

I helped Tara and her lovely friends pack up much of Bri’s stuff. We each took a few things (memories, you know…) and it wasn’t near as bad as I’d thought. I was quite worried I’d have another panic attack, or worse, break down in sobs – as this was where I last saw him.

But I didn’t. For the most part, I kept my cool and enjoyed the company of good people.

Because at the end of the day – it’s the people who rally around you in love and support that really matter. We’re the ones left behind to pick up all the pieces, and we’re the ones who need to support each other through this pain filled time. It’s people who matter. It’s people who loved him and people who love him, still. And it’s us people who will carry on to live our lives, get on with things; love again and learn from this.

If there is anything that I’ve learned…it is the amount of love that is all around me. If we pay attention and ‘see’ – we’ll find that it was always, always…there. Right in front of us. Thank you for showing me this, Brian. xox

He Was…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 19, 2015

He was someone who would take out your garbage. Not because it bothered him for it to be there but because he felt it was something he should do. He was a gentleman like that and he was all too happy to do it.

He’d hover over me when I made dinner/breakfast because he couldn’t stand not helping out (even though cooking wasn’t really his thing). When he saw that whatever I was making was pretty much done, he’d rush over, grab cutlery from the drawer, pour the wine, paper towels, everything and then he’d set the table. From the first meal to the last one I made for him, this is what he did. I never, ever asked him to help or showed him where stuff was.

He just did it.

He was someone who felt a little guilty about drinking your alcohol but would never let you bring a bottle of wine to his place. The first time he showed up with several bottles of wine, to re-stalk my vino collection, I was shocked. This was a first for me.

I did buy him one of the scotches he liked, rum, whiskey…whatever he used to drink at home…and pistachios (he LOVED those) – because I wanted him to feel comfortable at my place. He reciprocated by purchasing (no less than) 5 different loaves of bread, once, (I ate toast in the morning) and honey. He didn’t know what ‘type’ of bread I liked…but rather than ask, he just bought one of every kind. I still chuckle over that!

I wrote him a love poem. He didn’t know how to take it, it was too early in the relationship for him and he was a little taken aback. My poetry is filled with metaphors and similes. He admitted he really didn’t ‘get all of it’. But, he was the kind of man who would read it over and over again. He printed it out, framed it and hung it up on the wall beside the bed. I didn’t notice until he told me. When he did, I burst into tears with love, respect and guilt (that I didn’t see it).

He was like that.

He’d do things for you but not make a big deal out of it. He was a giver.

Brian was… possibly the sweetest/kindest man I’ve ever met.

Just Wanna Feel Numb…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 18, 2015

😦

All About Brian – Part II

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 17, 2015

On our second date, I had him over for dinner. Or…that was the plan.

We’d gone somewhere for a walk; I think it was Burnaby Lake which is just down the road from where I live. When we got back the power was out in my building. In fact, it was out on the entire block, it seemed.

He teased and joked that I’d done this on purpose as I had to light candles everywhere when the sun went down (this was still February). We were forced to simply ‘be’ with each other, talk…no music or TV for distractions.

We ordered in Chinese food as I couldn’t cook the salmon I was intending to…power out, and all. He insisted on paying for it. This is what Brian did. Only once did he allow me to take ‘him’ out for dinner. It was last dinner out we’d have.

Anyway…

That second date started at 1 pm or so and went until about 1 am.

I’ll just say – longest makeout session, EVER.

I’ll cherish that memory for as long as there is a sun in the sky.

All About Brian

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 16, 2015

Let me tell you about my first date with Brian, my darling who recently passed away. I was running late and as I’m dyslexic and rather directionally challenged, I drove into the wrong parking lot to where I was supposed to be – meeting him at a local restaurant.

I knew what his pictures looked like from the dating site but you just never know who you’re really going to meet. Let me just say, his pictures didn’t do him justice. Brian was gorgeous.

He didn’t wait inside the restaurant, like all the other men would have…no, he waited outside by the door, in the cold and rain (February in Vancouver) for me. He looked amazing, smiled at me with that angelic smile of his and we said our hello’s and quickly hugged.

I noticed he had a little package in his hand and after we were seated, he handed me a little box of Roger’s chocolates that he’d gifted me with. This was a first! I’d gotten the occasional rose (but not often) but never chocolates. It was incredibly sweet in a gentlemanly, old-fashioned way.

He ordered an Old Fashioned and I had a glass of wine. We talked for hours and connected immediately. He made me laugh; I made him laugh. 🙂 I didn’t want the evening to end, but of course…it eventually did.

He walked me to my car…hugged me again and as I drove home, I wondered what on earth he thought of me and if he’d ever want to see me again.

Turns out he did… 😉

He’d driven home to a complete sports commentary in his head about how badly he thought he did. Before he signed off and went to bed, he wrote me a lengthy email which was hilarious! Someday I may share it.

When I tried to read it on my iPhone with blurry eyes at 4:30 am, the next morning, at first I thought it was possibly the world’s longest rejection letter. It wasn’t. He liked me very much and really wanted to see me again…

That was about 3 months ago.

During our time together, due to circumstances – especially the last month, we grew as a couple, much faster, than would normally happen.

That being said, I do believe in love at first sight.

When I saw him standing there, box of chocolates in hand, at the door of the restaurant, I knew that I loved this boy.

I always will….

Bri napping on the couch with Zephyr. He’d shoot me for posting this but it’s the only pic I actually was able to take of him.

I think it’s adorable. xo

Angels Fall Like Rain

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 15, 2015

Too sad now to post much. Too sad to write a lot about you…

You’ll live in my heart, forever.

Brian Caffelle – Dec. 23/1968 – May 11/2015

Sometimes Other Poets Say it Better

Posted by fragmentedpoet on May 6, 2015

I adore Pablo Neruda.

His poems are pure bliss that tempt the dreamers heart and dares it to hope…if only a little. I do write, I do write well – but today. Pablo says it better.

Here I Love You

Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.

The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.
Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone.

Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.

Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.

The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.

The moon turns its clockwork dream.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

Pablo Neruda

Month-End Madnes

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 30, 2015

In sales, life is never a walk in the park. There are clients to pester into buying something from you, problems to solve and of course…a target to hit.

Yup. And that is where the stress lies, pretty much all of it, too.

As a reseller, I have two companies I have to please, the one I work for and the one who makes said product that I sell. It gets even more complicated when both companies have different year-ends and quarter-ends. The agendas change.

There is nothing worse than someone emailing you a billion times a day asking:

Are they going to buy? Did they buy? When are they going to buy? How can we make them buy?

Are we there yet….??!!

I’m a professional. I hate to bug the shit out of my clients. It’s month end, but it’s month end for them, too. Also, it should be known that my own boss doesn’t do this to me…it’s the company that does the making (developing) of the product that I sell.

But I’m reasonable, plus I’d kinda like to get the sale through, too. Not that I haven’t been following up for the past MONTH with all of my opportunities, but hey…last day of the month and all.

So. The dude (who works for the company who makes the stuff I sell) says to me:

“You need to call them up, now, and find out why they won’t buy.”

I say back…

“I did, I know why and I already told you, but I also don’t want to pester the crap out of my clients.”

And he goes on with…

“Isn’t that your job?”

I respond…

“No, it’s my job to be professional with my clients and help them decide the best options for THEM.”

Sheesh.

Another mediocre sales month, but onwards and upwards, right?

Positive thinking! Yeah, that’s the ticket. 😉

And LOVE, can’t forget that one.

Like Never Before

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 29, 2015

I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past two weeks. It’s been a struggle to say the least…but it’s been a labour of love. There were times when I broke down and felt helpless and useless but never once did I lose the will to keep fighting the good fight.

Never once did I give up on him.

Love is a funny thing…it knows no time frame, no boundaries and it can be as big as the entire Universe. It can lead you into uncharted waters and though the fear is it will leave you high and dry – the risks are worth it, in my opinion.

His journey is an incredibly difficult one but as with all paths in life, we need not walk it alone.

As long as he allows it, I will be there, at his side. I will stand true; I will stand strong.

This is for you, B. I’m so proud to be in your life.

Line Cutting

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 23, 2015

This is, by far, my greatest driving pet peeve. In fact, in infuriates me.

Every day when I drive to work…I get into the RH turning lane at the top of 20^th St. in New Westminster. This leads onto the Queensborough Bridge and it’s one hell of a long line up.

The other lane turns left into New West. You can’t go straight.

You know where I’m going with this, right? There is ALWAYS one (or two) asshole(s) who drive down the other lane, bypassing everyone who has been sitting there, inching forward ever so slowly, from light to light… for 15 min or longer.

These bastards/bitches cut in line at the end…forcing their way in so THEY don’t have to do what the rest of us good people have to do – which is: WAIT. IN A CUE. WITH EVERYONE ELSE.

Whilst the good commuting people of the Lower Mainland are doing thus…hating it, but doing it, because it’s polite and it’s the right thing to do…there are those (and YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) that think they’re just a little bit better than the good people of the world and feel justified in breaking the law and pissing off everyone. Why? Maybe they’re running a little late…maybe they didn’t know the lanes split…maybe I’ve got a bridge in Portland for sale that has your name on it.

Riiiiight. T. F. B. I say. That’s “too fucking bad” for the acronym-impaired.

Now, I want to say something to the people that let them (the assholes) into said line, because…you don’t have to. Make them wait! When you let them in, a) they win and b) you’re letting them know that it’s okay to be a jerk.

Don’t! Don’t be intimidated by their BIG vehicle! Don’t let them stare you down, beg, threaten you with hand gestures that make absolutely no sense and possible swear words (because you can’t hear them when they’re yelling inside their car).

Do. NOT. Let. Them. In.

I don’t. If they stare me down…I give them the: I’m an evil witch and will hex you, look. This confuses the hell out of them and may even frighten some. Good. That’s the idea.

I yell: KARMA HEX!! -at them, shaking my fist. Really, you should see some of the reactions I get back. I think I karma hexed about three people, today. They’ll get their comeuppance. Oh yeah.

I don’t fall for that desperate, pleading look, either. *See previous acronym in the body of this blog.

Nope, NOT getting in!

I wish there was room where the COPS could be pulling aside and ticketing these offenders-of-the-lanes, because the COPS will do that if they can. I have no issues with this. Good, I say, book ’em, Danno!

So. Are you going to cut into a lane, tomorrow on your way to work? I’d advise you not to…Karma can be a bitch.

If We Could See the Colour of a Soul

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 22, 2015

Many people are beautiful on the outside…stunning, really… but are ugly as hell on the inside.

I wonder.

I wonder if humans would pick better partners and fall in love with the right people; people who are worthy and true – if they could see the real colours of a soul.

Closure

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 21, 2015

This message can never be repeated, enough.

Someone’s heart is a gift, not a thing to be kicked to the curb. A person’s love is the highest high and the most beautiful, precious thing we, as human beings, as souls… have to offer, another.

Never take it lightly, for granted… or cast it aside like a shadow in the dark.

tradervancouver

I thought I as doing OK.

I was wrong.

I wrote a rather lengthy post. Then I deleted all of it, except for those two lines above.

Please. If you’re going to end a relationship with someone, particularly a serious partner where time, emotion, and energy were greatly invested, give them closure if they ask for it.

Leaving someone to feel tossed away, or that they didn’t matter, is hurtful and damaging. And if you have done that, I would venture to say that it is never too late to give them peace. It’s a generous gift that costs nothing, and yet has immeasurable value.

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Getting Past It All

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 20, 2015

Life…

It can be a brutal journey or a beautiful one. Usually it’s a colourful mixture of blood red with swirls of pastel mother of pearl, highlights. It’s such an individual thing, all of us have our own paintings of our life, memories, like canvases, hung up on the walls of our minds.

I know when I take trips down memory lane, I walk past all of those paintings, and take pause – here and there…to really look over the details. I see the scenes unfold from my internal paintbrush and I touch the brush strokes, noticing how bold or faded the colours have become.

Some of these pictures of my life, I don’t put up. I keep them locked up in a vault. When I dare to, I open it up and pull them out, one-by-one, to gaze at pain. I think I really don’t see what I think I see. I think my mind has skewed some of the reality that was. Perhaps it really wasn’t all that good, or it really wasn’t all that horribly bad. I don’t know as memories are funny things. They tend to re-write themselves along the way to suit us.

Sometimes you just have to step back and see things the way they really were. This can be difficult but not impossible. It’s incredibly heart wrenching if the memory is a painful one and it throws us into a bright red world of intense, unbearable, torture.

Memories are not just scenes in our minds; they are emotions, powerful ones…emotions that make or break us. And when they break us, it can seem like we are unrepairable. But, we are not. People are resilient. If we look to those who love us and need us along with others who have the skills to really help us, we will prevail.

We can, we WILL carry on and, ultimately, get past it all.

Thieves Steal $70,000 Worth of Bull Semen

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 18, 2015

Things you just don’t read about, every day… Great post.

How Do You Mend a Broken Heart?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 16, 2015

Not mine… mine’s still in one piece. 😉

But, someone who means the world to me, who is suffering, feeling quite broken and even though they have all one would think they ‘need’ right there in front of them…along comes a reminder. A reminder that someone else took their heart, their trust and their love, snatched it like a baby bird from a nest and crushed it into dust.

Just. Like. That.

How do we get over that? How can we bear watching them skip along in life, untouched, unscathed – knowing they could care less about the carnage they left behind in their wake.

I think at some time or another, we all get familiar with that feeling. That we were used and completely taken for a fool. I’ve been there, lied to, taken advantage of by smiling eyes and ‘I love you’s’ that meant as much to them as monopoly money means to a bank.

How much is one’s trust worth? It’s priceless.

There are users in this big ‘ole world, and there are givers and everything in-between. I believe everything and every person has a purpose. Users come into our lives to teach us about giving, but more importantly…about receiving. Lots of people are good at giving but ask them to receive back what they’ve given to others? It’s sometimes very hard for them to do.

How do you mend a broken heart?

With love, of course…

Love, patience and kindness. Time…tenderness and helping that sweet, messy, adorable, heart, learn to receive back, all of that which was taken for granted, before. All that they deserved from another and didn’t get, offer it up to them but don’t think they’ll accept it willingly. Because they may not, at first. The wounds are still fresh and bleeding; you haven’t yet proven yourself.

But that’s okay. Bide your time, take a step back and wait for them to come to you.

Even if they never do, one day they’ll realize their own worth, just by remembering what was offered with no strings attached, from you. They’ll let go of that ‘string’ from that ‘other person’ and forgive. These are valuable lessons. We must forgive in order to move forward; we have to let go. This isn’t easy and some never do. Some carry the pain with them, always and they don’t need to.

Healing is a very personal thing. It can’t be rushed. But love? It’s a constant. So give it to them, let them know it’s unconditional (real love always is), be there for them. Don’t scold. Don’t allow your own insecurities to diminish what you offer. Be true. Be real.

Give them room to breathe, space and solitude if they need it but make sure they know you’re only a text, a phone call, a short drive, a kiss…away.

A Feel Good Story

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 13, 2015

Relationships are hard…

Well, they can be challenging and for the most part they are a work in progress. I truly believe if two good people are a ‘real’ match, wonderful things can be accomplished – long lasting things that can span over a great number of years.

Let me give you an extremely sweet example.

My mother had her first official boyfriend at the tender age of 15. It was an innocent time and back in those days (also back in Denmark) 15-year old’s behaved themselves (more or less). It was a true time of sweetness, good clean fun, adventures and friendship.

Her boyfriend at the time, was also 15. A young good-looking strapping lad that was all googly-eyed over the gorgeous and curvaceous, young, blonde bombshell. I’ve seen her pics, I really don’t blame him; she was really hot stuff.

As luck would have it, their love bloomed but was short-lived. My Grandfather had always loved Canada and the young family (my mom, grandparents and aunt) moved to Oakville Ontario. For those of you who don’t want to run to Google Maps. Denmark and Canada are a a hell of a long way away.

Now, keep I mind, this is 1951. There were two main ways to communicate: telephone and mail. I’m going to assume that there were a few letters written back and forth between the lovelorn 15-year old’s from across the Atlantic, but in the end – it was an end of a beautiful beginning.

Or…was it…??

As it turns out, no!

Sixty some odd years later, after my step-father had passed away, my mother gets the idea that she should look up her old beau on the internet. Or… ‘on the computer’ as she puts it. And, she’s in luck!! Her very first boyfriend is also a widower.

Long story short, the two hit it off, again, immediately. It was as if the years simply melted away. Before they knew it, they were Skyping, once a week. Then Leif decided it was time for a visit.

Off he flew to Canada and the two of them went on a romantic holiday to Maui, for about 3-weeks. I’m told this is where they fell in love….(again).

Awww…

After several months, he returned to Denmark. Life went on…but not before the pair decided to get together, again. And this time, for much longer.

He’s currently staying in Canada for as long as he can (6 months). Then they’re jetting off to Denmark for another three.

I have to say, I’ve met him, he’s adorable and the two are inseparable!

If a couple of 79-year old’s can make it work after living almost one whole complete life, apart, then I have hope.

I have confidence that I too, can/will make it work out. I’m really hoping it’s with the current boy that I adore, but if it isn’t, I’m convinced there is the right someone out there for all of us.

Not that I want to wait until my 70’s, mind you. But still…cutest love story, EVER.

A Poem for the Weary

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 9, 2015

I can’t remember when I wrote this or where it came from, but for all those who have ever felt a little ‘broken’ in spirit.

This is for you:

Broken

Celia ate her words
smearing her lips with pretty prose
that stole the only smile she had left
and had quite forgotten about…

Her tears were borrowed, somewhere deep in the past
not intended for public viewing
eyes that had forgotten how to cry
welled up with leftover daydreams instead.

Life that could have,
dreams that should have….

She was broken,
egg shells crushed quite beyond
any hope of royal repair, Celia could not
put any life back together again.

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS’ DAY!

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 9, 2015

This is HILARIOUS! And, worth a re-blog.

“Who told you that, an Irish person?!” LOL!

Nice one!

Making Up

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 7, 2015

Breaking up sucks.

Making up, however, is like a fine sliver of dark chocolate melting ever so slowly on your tongue, accompanied by a mellow tingle of Shiraz rushing past and swirling down your throat. It sets your taste buds tingling, satisfies your craving for something sweet, yet earthy…and brings on that warm buzz with reflective overtones. You might think of spring blossoms, crashing waves on a naked shore, or rumbling thunderstorms in the distance.

A sweet memory chasing after you; always wanting just –

A little.

Bit.

More.

A not quite satiated subtle glow that leaves you craving his hurried, gentle touch and wet lips placed in strategic places.

Today I’m Not the Same Girl As I Was, Yesterday

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 5, 2015

I’ve been toying around with an interesting concept for a few years, now. It’s the idea that you are a new person, every day. In essence, the person you woke up as, today, is not the person you were, yesterday.

Now, stick with me because it’s a bit to get your head around, but once I’m done – you’ll get it and it will all make sense. Physically/chemically/spiritually – we are changing every moment. Every time you take in a new breath of air, it’s not the same exact air that you breathed, the last time you took a breath.

Your brain is constantly firing off little pulses of energy that create thoughts every single second. They may be similar thoughts, but they’re not the exact same thoughts as we know, we cannot go back into the past. We ‘live’ in the moment, even if our hearts and minds think we should stay in the past or leap forward into a possible future. Both are impossible.

What we’re doing when we choose to live in our pasts (dwell there, constantly) is like going through a massive filing cabinet and sorting through all of the files, there, over and over, again. Try it. Get up right now and go to where you keep your ‘files’ and look through them. You know that as soon as you walk away, they’ll still be there…they’re not going anywhere unless you want them to (or by chance, they are destroyed).

These are our memories. We sort through them, all the time – filing them away in our ‘head’ and shoving bits of useful and useless information into random folders. I think we all remember everything, but there are so many folders, so much to sort through, (and let’s face it, our heads are not always that organized!) that we think we can’t remember things/events/names/faces …etc. It’s called forgetting. Think of it as having randomly shoved a piece of paper with a list of Christmas present ideas …but into the file labeled ‘2003 Taxes’. You’d never think to look there, would ya?!

Right at this very moment, as I type away and create this blog post, I’m creating new memories, experiencing new experiences and filing them away as I do it. I’m literally becoming something new with all of these NEW thoughts.

Are you still with me?

I’m not the same person I was 5 min, ago, because I’ve just created a whole new set of memories – and even though they’re not terribly significant, they are still NEW. That’s not to say that we don’t feel like we’re repeating ourselves…often we do similar things and live through similar experiences, over and over again.

But, do we have to?

As conscious beings, I think we can choose to ‘not’ repeat or feel like we are repeating, ourselves. If only we simply take a moment to realize just what’s going on, we can shift at any given time. We can shift our thought patterns, shift our beliefs and become something different than what we were, someone better.

We are creatures that learn. We are creatures that grow and change. We can start over and do things right, the second time, if we wish it.

Today I’m not the same girl as I was, yesterday. And every single day when upon waking, I will choose to be better than I was.

Worry

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 4, 2015

My little guy (aka, Zephyrus the cat) was so sick, today. He threw up everywhere, cried in pain and hid under the covers. Currently he’s in his little house.

Cats do that when they are ill; they hide. It’s a leftover instinct from their feral days. Their instinct tells them that they are more vulnerable to predators so to protect themselves, they must not become a target.

It’s a helpless feeling to not be able to make your pet better. And when it gets too bad for them, you have to send them on their way…put them out of misery and end their existence.

It’s too early for that, given his disease and progress, but I worry nonetheless. How will I do this, alone? How will I manage to end his little life after 12 years of loving his fluffy little self, to bits. I moved him all the way from Calgary, AB to Vancouver, BC. It was the longest drive of my life…11 hours to be exact. He cried all the way. Most of it, anyway.

How will I go on without him? No one to greet me at the door, no one to snuggle with at night and no more games of hide and seek, tag and kill the string.

But we do. Our hearts ache and break with grief but we get on with it.

In the meantime, he’ll get whatever he wants, tons of mommy love and I’ll stop at nothing to ease any suffering.

Good pet owners do that. We know when to hold on and we know when it’s time to let go.

Thar Be Vikings!

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 4, 2015

I’m an avid fan of Vikings but no only because of the raiding, blood, gore and all in all violence (violins for those of you that get the joke) – but because there is a) historical reference to actual REAL people in this series and b) I’m kinda half Viking, myself.

Well…

My mother is Danish (immigrated to Canada when she was 15-years old). I’m just certain that somewhere back in my ancestry of Scandinavian heritage that there must be some Vikings in there.

For historical and factual reference – a Viking isn’t someone who lived back in ‘those’ days and was from Scandinavia. No. A true VIKING was an explorer (more or less…). The Norsemen were quite the culture with all of their fierce Gods, their (warrior’s idea of heaven) Valhalla, and their fondness for mead.

They were settlers, farmers, explorers, (they ended up in Newfoundland!) pillagers and they were damn good at what they did! Also, it’s rumoured that they were much bigger and taller than the poor Englishmen whom they “visited” a lot.

To be sure, my heritage has always fascinated me; watching ‘Vikings’ helps satiate some of that yearning to better understand my ancestors. Did you know that Bjorn Ironside was a real live historical person?

So! Imagine my surprise when I was waiting for the Sky Train to take me to downtown Vancouver, yesterday…when I saw…

A Viking!!

Adventures in Online Dating: E for Effort

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 4, 2015

Just gotta love this… (lol).

Geek's Secret Life

I understand that part of dating – and especially online dating – is presenting yourself in a light that makes you attractive to the person of your desire. Obviously, in light of being single, I don’t do very well at that myself; but do consider the following exchange:

Woman: “So, what do you mean by cosmology? Stuff like the moon, mars, and the sun, right?”

Secretgeek: “Cosmology is the study of the universe’s origin, evolution, nature, and eventual end.”

Woman: “Yes that is very interesting indeed, though I don’t think we can ever predict the future of the planets, considering it is all random chance that the earth came to be from gasses and water and rock due to specific temperatures and pressure.”

Well she tried, right?

At least she did not confuse the subject with astrology…

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Inspired

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 3, 2015

Some people pop into your life for a little while…others, a life time.

This is for those that have left their indelible mark.

You make it effortless

dreams that dig deep into every heart of
endless possibilities, potentials of
every achievement and –
every time you speak…

I want to listen.

You make it happen.

synergies tripping across sympatico with optimal
performance that translates
into multiple epiphanies
multiplying positive outcomes

You breathe serendipity.

You make a difference.

collecting the very best of every thought
weaving through energy, translating ideas –
a captivating collage that
captures true spirit and produces results,

You inspire me…
to be better.

My achy breaky heart…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 2, 2015

Dear heart,

Every day it’s going to get a little better; it’s going to hurt a little less. Go easy on yourself – you’re a good heart, a deserving heart. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to grieve…but it’s okay to hope, too. Just be realistic and most importantly…be true to yourself.

You know your real value, your worth and what you’ve accomplished. You know who you are in the world, where you are going and where you’ve been.

There will be a day when you look back to this one and smile. You’ll be grateful for the experience and grateful that another soul trusted enough to let you into their life …it doesn’t matter for how long. Life is far too short and good people, I mean REALLY good people should be cherished. Always and forever.

Know that you’re going to be okay. You’ve survived a hell of a lot worse and you’ll live through this, too.

Never forget what you’ve learned and be ever so thankful that you were gifted this chance to learn from another. It’s a precious thing that should never be taken lightly.

Understand that you’re worthy. If all is lost, someday, when you least expect it, there will be another that sets, YOU, my heart, on fire, once again. You need only be patient and in the meantime….take some ‘me’ time.

Sweet heart… you WILL heal. It just takes a little R&R, a little TLC and a whole lot of time.

Be brave, be real and be true.

Peace,

~Me.

Which Muppet Would You Be?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 1, 2015

I’ve always adored the Muppets. In fact, I used to watch the show, (when it aired) religiously. I particularly love the Grumpy Old Men and the Swedish Chef. Beaker, was another fave.

Funny, because my first husband was a ‘real’ Swedish Chef. Well, okay, he was a cook with Swedish Heritage. His dad, however, was a true Swedish Chef and actually taught the Chef Training Course at the college I attended.

But I digress…

I’ve given this a lot of thought. Really! It’s a bit silly, but I need ‘fun and silly’ in my life, right now.

I truly believe I’m Kermit.

Lest you ask: “What is up with that?! Kermit is a DUDE!”

You’d be right. But…there is only really one true female character and I’m definitely NOT Miss Piggy.

So yeah…I’m Kermie. Kermie sans Miss Piggy. Or…just Kermit.

Here’s why:

Kermit struggles with himself. He’s said (and sung): “It’s not easy being green” I completely agree. I’m not green…but that can’t be easy. Also, it’s not easy being me. I don’t think any of us have an easy go at life, but I tend to torture myself (emotionally) just a little bit more than others. Also, he’s insecure about how he looks and what he can achieve. I’m not the only one who does this, but as a single girl, I tend to compare myself to younger, prettier, girls. I also have issues on what I’m really good at and just what I ‘can’ accomplish.

Kermit is a really nice dude. He means well and if he makes mistakes, it’s certainly not on purpose. I can relate to this. In fact, I’ve been accused of being TOO nice, on occasion. I also fuck up. A LOT. Recently, I had a major award-winning, all-time book-worthy… fuck-up; I really don’t want to go there, though. Kermit is kinda like that, too. He feels the need to explain himself, a lot. Also, he’s helpful, kind and empathetic. I’ve been told I am like this, as well. I do mean well. Kermit does, too.

Kermit sings. I sing! Kermit may actually be a bit better than me; certainly he’s more famous…but I do okay with the vocal cords.

Kermit is short. I’m a little short. Not too short…but in my stocking feet, I’m a whopping: 5’4”.

He’s got a pretty decent sense of humour – albeit, it’s subtle. I can be funny! Not hysterical-type funny…but amusing, for sure.

Now, we’re not twinsies or anything, but the point of this is to pick one Muppet character that you identify with. I identify with Kermit the Frog.

Which Muppet are you?

Couple Steals $9,000 worth of Panties

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 1, 2015

This is too funny! Also…an interesting fetish; I wonder what they intended to do with all of those undies…

Good post, cheered me up.

An Experiment in Sleep Deprivation

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 31, 2015

So.

I’ve been awake since Monday morning. From 4:30 am, to be exact. The why isn’t important but what’s interesting is that I’ve been conscious for 37 or so, hours? My math skills are deplorable.

And…! I’m feeling great! I can stand, function, write (see? I’m writing coherently) and even entertain clients for dinner. Things got really fun when I came home to cat puke on my bedroom carpet and then, said kitty evidently had a runny tummy whilst I was slaving away at work.

This = cat shit all over his ass leading to being forced to wash him in the kitchen sink. (see pic, below). Normally I’d be pissed, but I’m totally fine with it!

Apparently not getting enough sleep (never mind being awake for going on 40 hours) is a bad thing. Funny…I kinda feel fantastic. Here is the reason:

Sleep deprivation, such as pulling an all-nighter, can lead to short-term euphoria, however, your brain’s rational, decision-making regions largely shut down when sleep deprived, which means you may be in a precarious mental state that encourages you to take risks you normally would not. Wait, I’m taking a risk? It’s a blog for heaven’s sake!
Sleep deprivation for as little as 29 hours has the same effect on your immune system as physical stress or disease. I totally get the stress bit.
Sleep deprivation is linked to psychiatric disorders such as anxiety and bipolar depression, while getting the right amount of sleep has been linked to positive personality characteristics such as optimism and greater self-esteem, as well as a greater ability to solve difficult problems. I’ve been not sleeping properly for a while -but I SWEAR I’ve been in a pretty good mood. Definitely not suffering from lack of self-esteem, etc. Okay, that’s a bold-faced lie. My mood is not good but lack of sleep isn’t the cause. And, the cause isn’t bipolar depression or anxiety. It’s more heart-related – not murmur but of the ‘relationship’ variety.

Now…I normally don’t do this (stay up for this long) but… circumstances and all that jazz. I fully plan to go to sleep, or at least attempt to, shortly. I have lots of alcohol available but this will make it worse. In fact, alcoholics often suffer from insomnia. Don’t worry, I’m not one.

I took all my sleeping aids (to no avail, I may add!) last night. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark because they did NOT work. In fact…here I am, 37 hours, later.

Still. Awake.

It’s been a long and hectic day, too. Somehow I managed three meetings (don’t forget entertaining clients for dinner), several lengthy phone calls, driving around town and …coming home to cat poop and puke.

I’ve got another client meeting, tomorrow, so if I don’t sleep tonight – things are going to get very interesting, indeed.

I’m off to bed…with a wet cat in tow.

Nighty night.

The Point of Culmination

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 30, 2015

Zenith

What is it?
this struggle that
keeps me awake
pondering my existence

Asking all who would listen
the question of our
lacking human capacity
for listening with our hearts,
speaking with our Higher Soul

This day I breathe
(listening to the ebb and flow of my life’s blood)

This hour I restrain
(myself from losing grip on perception)

This moment I succumb
(and lose it anyway – finding a whole new way to see)

The answer was always
obvious and poignant

Without one
how can we know the other?

We will always choose

To select the highest stars
while sitting in the pits of our broken selves.

In the Moment

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 29, 2015

I’ve written about living in the moment, before. Yet, we mustn’t forget those moments in our lives that take our breath away, leave us wishing the seconds would slow down and allow us to stay there, forever.

There are also a whole lot of moments we’d rather forget, times we’ve really fucked up or done something we’ll regret, forever. Times when others have caused pain and destruction and those times when we’ve lost those whom we love.

Our brains are really remarkable, able to turn back the clock and relive the good and bad, minute-by-minute, should we so choose. I think at times our memory tricks us and we remember things how we’d like to, not so much as they really happened.

Nevertheless, they are our memories, our ‘moments’ to do with as we wish. I’ve often caught myself wallowing in moments that are best left in the past. It’s never good, but sometimes we need to remember what we’ve learned. We need to remember the things we should never repeat.

Then there are the moments which should be put on repeat, and often, at that. These precious few minutes of time help me through the tough times, the lonely times and the times when my heart is breaking. They offer a nice comfy ride past all of my insecurities (I’ve got a lot) and put right what is really important about living.

About … life.

So today, with the song of rain pouring down onto the flat roof, with all of my uncertainties and humility bubbling up like black tar, with me thinking, once again, I may have gone too far and completely fucked it all up…I will remember.

I will remember the moment when I was 9 and it was high summer; how the broken cement sidewalk, baked by the morning sun, burned on my little bare feet , and it wasn’t even 11 am, yet.

I will remember the moment when I saw the ocean, for the very first time, in Victoria…just beyond Beacon Hill Park. I fell in love with the sea, that day.

I will remember the moment when we got our first cat, Tinkerbell, that tiny little furry black fluff-ball. Oh, how she could run! It took us 2 hours to catch her in the house we adopted her from. I was three.

I will remember grade 12 graduation. I’ll recall the moment when my father gave me my first (and last, I’ve never been gifted with this again) dozen, long-stemmed red roses. “One for each year,” he grinned at me. I was speechless and so taken with love and gratitude that I promptly burst into tears.

I’ll remember the moment when I woke up to my 10th or 11th birthday. My mom had laid out all my b-day gifts on the little bench in our room (I shared a room with my younger sister). There all the nicely wrapped presents sat, waiting for me… I think I was breathless with anticipation and then my whole family came into my dimly lit room and sang Happy Birthday, to me. That was the year my brother got me my first watch.

I’ll remember the moment when the light caught his eyes…turning them blue-in-green as they took on various shades of his clothing. I was captivated.

In the Moment

Crippled desires
a bridge of sorrow
please bring me peace
in the moment

Shatter the binds
strip away thoughts
leaving me soft in the moment

Offer me shelter
clothe my soul
teach me to love
in the moment

Kiss my heart
deliver me safe
let us both live,
in the moment.

Self-Doubt

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 27, 2015

“The lack of confidence in oneself and one’s abilities.”

We all have it, to some degree. Some, much more than others. While I can’t speak for everyone, I can speak for myself and write about the daily challenges this little monkey on my back gifts me. This post will be keeping in the same theme as those two emotions that we have and deal with, constantly: Love and Fear.

Self-doubt, obviously, is birthed from Fear. And damn it, it’s a clingy little bugger…always popping up when you think everything is going along just fine and then climbing into your lap to ask for cuddles.

“Really?”

“Really. Cuddle me, damn it.”

Self-doubt is sneaky because it pretends it’s your friend by asking leading questions:

“Hey there, do you really think that was a good idea? Just sayin’. Nice lap, btw, it’s comfortable here.”

“Don’t think you should have done that, you should really worry because something bad is now going to happen. Just thinking of your best interest, here…maybe you should try and take it back or…fix it somehow? Seriously love snuggling with ya! I could stay here all day.”

“Do you really want to go there? Probably not, because it could lead to complete disaster. While I’m here getting all cozy, let’s talk about all the different types of disaster there could be…”

Jerk.

But today, I annihilated Self-Doubt! Yup. I killed it. It’s dead, dead, dead!

Maybe not.

Perhaps it’s mostly dead. And as we all know, there is only one thing to do with it if it were clearly ALL dead:

Go through its pockets and look for loose change.

I’ve gotten tired of the fear-based emotions in my old’ish age and, quite frankly, I’m starting to not care about them, so much.

Sorry, Fear, bad news – I’m breaking up with you. No, we can’t talk about it, we’re done until I really need you for something worthy. Like, for instance, a life or death situation. Then, you’re welcome to jump right back in my life because then, I’ll actually need you.

What? I’m being selfish?? You bet, baby. You’re my Fear-buddy. Kinda like a Fuck-buddy but without the sex. I call, you come running. Until then, stay away. Get it? Good.

Self-doubt is Fear’s child. I’m quite certain of it and like any good parent, they’d be rather protective of their offspring. To put into better words without all the fluffy metaphors:

We can choose to rid ourselves of self-doubt. It’s not easy but with a little self-talk and acknowledgment that we are in control, not our runaway feelings, it can be done. You can leave your lack of confidence in the dust and opt out for much kinder (and prettier) friends such as: Confidence, Trust and Belief.

Have confidence that you’re more than capable of making the right choices, and surprisingly – you will.

Trust yourself. Trust that YOU know what’s best for you. After all, who knows you better than you do?

Believe in yourself. If you don’t, no one else will.

Today I put myself out there –BIG time. I fessed up some pretty deep feelings. But, you know, I’m okay with it. I did the right thing. I did the right thing for me and I wasn’t afraid to be ME. Oh sure…after I hit that forbidden ‘send’ icon, I had a little moment of panic…but it ended quickly.

I’m glad I did it. I wouldn’t take it back for the world. I’m okay with my decision and I’ll live with whatever comes of it.

Self-doubt?

Go fuck yourself.

“How do you inspire your significant other?”

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 23, 2015

A great post, Brian, and well worthy of a read.

tradervancouver

This was a recent question posted on Quora.com .

http://www.quora.com/How-do-you-inspire-your-significant-other/answer/Brian-C-Vancouver

This was my answer:

There’s a quote I saw a while back that seems like a good way to start this answer:

Never Forget, there are three types of people in your life:
1. Those who helped you in your difficult times
2. Those who left you in your difficult times
3. Those who put you in your difficult times

When we’re in a relationship, we’re in a team. Or, put another way, we’re now members of a very small gang.Where once there were two separate people, now there is one unit, which contains two people. Like any good gang, our job is have the back of our fellow gang member. Hmm. I see this rapidly deteriorating into street fights with lead pipes, neck tattoos, and prison time at Pelican Bay, so perhaps we should break from the analogy now.

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The Divergence of Our Feelings

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 23, 2015

I was having an interesting conversation, the other day, with ‘that boy whom I’m totally smitten with’. We were talking about money; specifically, the conversation was around finances and investments.

He told me that people react much more strongly (in a negative way) when they lose on an investment than they do in a positive way – when they gain.

I thought about this for a few seconds and then realized that people do this for pretty much everything. What I mean is: our negative reactions to something that happens to us seem to be greater than and have more weight than the positive reactions we have towards something that happens to us.

To backtrack just a bit, I am thoroughly convinced we are in charge of our own emotions. This means that I believe we are able to choose ‘how we feel’ and ‘to what capacity we decide to feel it’. I’m not saying this is easy, far from it. In fact, it’s much simpler just to let our emotions get away with us and do what they want. It’s also much wiser to know ‘you’ are always and forever in control of YOU.

How many times have we endlessly stressed out and worried ourselves (sometimes sick) over shit that is not in our control? I would say – countless. Did it do any good? I will honestly confess that not once was I happy or glad about the experiences I’ve had (and far too many sleepless nights) needlessly worrying about stuff I had no control over.

Where is she going with this…? You may ask.

Let me ask you a basic question: Which feeling would you want to experience with the most intensity, love or fear?

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that EVERYone will say: Well, Love, of course!!

Bearing in mind that there are really only two basic emotions (Love and Fear) and everything else branches out from those two. For example: I invest $1000 into a stock and in a few years I have a 20% gain on my investment; this would elicit a happy response. Now if the following year, I lost 30% on this investment, I’d (in theory) be extremely upset and would feel this emotion more strongly than the happy response I’d get from the gain.

I don’t think that we feel fear any greater than we feel love. In fact, I think we are capable of experiencing them in equal measures. Why then, do we choose to feel a fear-based emotion much stronger than a love-based one?

Let’s look at another example: My reaction to falling in love with someone would not be experienced as greatly as when someone I loved ended the relationship.

Falling in love is fantastic! You all know it is; it’s amazing, dreamy and blissful. But when that is taken away from us… (ah, now we’re starting to make sense) our reaction is much stronger.

We’ve all been there.

And.

It’s.

Complete.

DEVASTATION.

It’s like comparing a birth to a death. The birth of a new child is great! The death of one is beyond terrible.

See what I’m getting at? Are ya still with me?

It could very well be that losing that love-based feeling of euphoria is far worse than gaining it. At least, that is how we seem to choose to experience it. We allow fear to rule us, some of us more than others. I’ll give you, yet, another example, because we ALL do it.

I’m in a new relationship. Instead of simply enjoying the experience of getting to know this wonderful man and living in the moment of all of the positive and fun times we’ve had together over the past month…I worry about stupid stuff. Stuff that has nothing to do with him. It’s my fear, fear of rejection, fear of not being understood, and fear of not being good enough. I could go on and on.

And he’s doing it, too! At least to some degree. His fears are not the same as mine and are based on his own experiences but the result is the same. We are both being affected by that one emotion more than the emotions that really count. The love-based emotions.

People decide to experience one emotion over the other and I really think we all do it. Perhaps it’s because we covet the love-based emotion so much that we lose sight of it, entirely, whilst trying to protect it and keep it for as long as we can.

What if we just let go? What if we consciously decide to live in our moments and experience the positive more intensely than we do the negative? What if we decided to stop worrying about things that we cannot control and focus on positively putting effort into the things that we can?

I daresay…the human race would be a much happier bunch.

So I challenge you to start. Start being happy in the ‘now’ and enjoy that happiness to the ultimate fullest. When it’s over and something negative takes its place, do whatever you can to ‘feel’ it but with less intensity.

Don’t listen to him. All of the emotions that we have in any given moment, pass and are gone like a fart in a windstorm. They pass and are replaced by another. It could be similar or completely opposite. It doesn’t matter, we move on. Sometimes it seems they circle ’round, but rest assured that they are different because you’re living in a different moment, it’s called the present. Never confuse it with the past or future. Your past is that fart in that windstorm and the future is unwritten.

Although I have a long way to go, I’m getting better at this. I no longer worry so much about money. I know full well how to bring more of it into my life. To worry about it is pointless. To focus on how/what/when I will accomplish this in the love-based emotion is profoundly better. And it works!

If tomorrow I suddenly found myself single, again? Yeah, I’d have a tougher time dealing with that, but I do know the feeling of sadness will, too, pass. It always has before and all it would mean is that I would have to start from square one, again. Albeit I’d take some wonderful memories and awesome things I’ve, thus far, learned, with me on my life journey. Yet, I remain positive! This is just an example. Really, things are going well.

So! This is what I will choose to do, going forward. I am going to do my best to choose to enjoy the incredible love-based emotions more fully and relish in them in my day-to-day life.

Not because I fear that they will go away as it’s pointless to do so. But because I know I’ll be happier immersing myself in ‘happy thoughts’ rather than dwelling on unhappy ones.

Which emotion will you choose to focus on, today?

Hey there, me…it’s me…miss me?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 12, 2015

My coworker talks nonstop to himself. And when I say ‘nonstop’ I’m not kidding. There’s a constant stream of dialogue going on inside his office and for the most part, it’s one-way.

Now, we ALL do this, from time-to-time. I am as guilty as the next person, but I DO try and limit my outer conversations to simple comments or, if I simply have to not use my ‘inside voice’, I make damn sure I’m ALONE. Because…people think you’re a freak if you’re jabbering away to no one in particular.

So. I had to look it up. Is talking to yourself an indication that your friends and family need to have an intervention that involve men in white coats? Or…is it simply normal to do this.

As it stands, the jury is (more or less) out. Some say that this is not only completely normal but good for you! Others disagree and I’m certainly not trying to make light of mental illnesses. There is even a wikiHow on: How to Stop Talking to Yourself.

It’s okay to chat away all by your lonesome if you are truly alone. So if you’re lonely or if you need to verbalize decisions, or if you just have to get something off your chest…and no one is around to ‘listen’ to you, I think it’s okay.

In an office environment where you are clearly NOT alone and DO talk to clients all day? I’m not so sure. When is it best to use our inside voice and when is it okay to let it all out (no matter who is listening to or watching you)?

We all have self dialogue or “Intrapersonal Communication”. Sometimes our thoughts leave our heads and go skipping, blissfully out of our mouths.

I’m not really sure what to think on the matter and for ‘that’ matter…does laughing out loud, count? If so, I’m extremely guilty on that account.

I DO talk to my cat. He does answer me, quite often, but I can’t count that as a conversation. Not. Really… I’ve read that everyone talks to their pets. As I live alone, this happens all the time. I think he understands me a little bit but pretends not to and generally, he just doesn’t care.

Or maybe he does and thinks I’m a nutcase:

“Lady, you’re talking to a CAT. Don’t you know? I’m a CAT, you stupid bi-ped. Now go and fill up the sink with water. That’s right…do my bidding and stop answering me in that ridiculous baby voice.”

In all fairness, HE usually starts it.

Just sayin’.

(Insert Colourful Explanative Here)

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 11, 2015

You’ve probably heard the latest about the little town of, Taber, AB, and their new law against public swearing, spitting and yelling. Whilst I’m keen to ban spitting, (horking up a goober at any time, defies disgusting, I mean, c’mon, people! NOBODY wants to see that) yelling, has its place.

I don’t personally enjoy yelling, per se, but I understand there is a need from time-to-time. I mean, what if someone were to step out into traffic and they didn’t see the oncoming semi rushing towards them? What is one to do? Whisper?

“Hey! Watch out!” she gasped in a hushed tone, hoping no one in particular heard her… as the poor little old lady was squished beneath the giant wheels of crushing steel.

Swearing, on the other hand, is a MUST. At least, I think so.

Why?

It’s freedom of speech, for one thing. It’s also how many of us emotional beings deal with things like: stress, anger, pain, surprise, joy (think….bedroom), and general all ‘round bullshit.

Wait…what..? Did I just…swear…?

But, hang on for a sec… Fear not! I have a solution. I think we should create interesting acronyms. Now, I don’t use ALL of these words, mainly #2, 3 and 4. Next to never, #2. I do use # 5, a lot, though. Let’s start, shall we?

For unlawful carnal knowledge. I think this has been used before, but I’m stealing it, anyway. It’s a mouthful, I’ll admit, but hey – it works and it’s rather appropriate, don’t ya think?
Cunningly ugly notorious terrestrial. Too much?
Sudden, happenstance, interrupting time. I’m on the fence with this one but will take suggestions; look for the special “I don’t give a sudden happenstance interrupting time) what you think”, suggestion box.
Any self-serving, highly oppressive, lunatic ego. This one is growing on me.
Babe in total control, honey. Is this even a swearword??

I could go on, but you see my point; it would take far too long to express ourselves, properly! It’s madness, I say, madness!

Really, though, these are ‘just’ words; stick and stones, right?

My guess is that this was brought on by the Religions bunch.

Oh, YOU know who you are!! Don’t think we don’t know.

Southern Alberta boasts quite a Bible Belt of Holy Rollers. I should know, I used to live there. In fact, I’ve been to Taber many times.

Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far, away on a dark and stormy night…I sold crummy ads for a local crummy weekly newspaper run by a bunch of crummy people. The HQ was/probably still is – in Taber, AB. Yup. I used to have to go there, once a week, for proofing said crummy ads.

And then there’s Taber corn. Truly…it’s as delicious and delectable as they claim. I mean, mouth-watering, taste bud tantalizing, good! There is a serious ‘yummy’ factor with this corn.

And that, my friends, may actually be the culprit that has Taber Teens running off colourful expletives from their little baby-like mouths, in PUBLIC, no doubt!

Clearly they are all a bunch of hooligans and this is completely out of control. It has to stop…really. I mean…any cunningly ugly notorious terrestrial that has sudden, happenstance, interrupting time (for brains) can see that a teen doing this is either a babe in total control, honey ….or any self-serving, highly oppressive, lunatic ego. For unlawful carnal knowledge’s, sake, already!

Yup. When in doubt, blame religion. I think we can safely say it has a lot to answer for.

May the corn bless you and keep you.

When Your Day Starts To Slide Sideways

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 10, 2015

Remember the movie “Sideways”? If you’re a wine enthusiast and a writer, it’s an absolute must see.

The story is about Miles (played by Paul Giamatti) and his buddy, Jack. Miles is a struggling writer (totally can relate, there!) and also a wine enthusiast (yup…I too partake from time-to-time). Miles sets off with Jack, a has-been actor (Thomas Haden Church), who is engaged to be married. They head off on a trip into California Wine County to do some last ditch ‘guy-bonding’.

Jack, (that bastard!) is looking for one last fling before he ties the knot (or gets locked to a ball and chain, depending on how you look at it).

Well…Jack is successful (sort of…) and Miles hooks up with a woman, as well. But. the whole trip turns into a debacle/gong-show-of-a-nightmare and quite quickly goes sideways. The outcome, however, and last scene of the movie is…encouraging.

My point, you ask?

My day started out okay. For the first time in many sleepless nights, I slept, pretty well! Now, this may or may not have to do with a long and pleasant phone conversation with that ‘boy I totally adore’. It’s difficult to say, but let’s be positive and say that it was. 🙂

I arrive at work and begin my busy day in a flurry of emails and think on which clients I need to call and follow up with.

THEN.

It all goes to shit in a leather handbag.

Without getting into gobs of detail about my job…let’s just say that there was an unhappy client who filled out a certain survey and gave us (ME) a very shitty score. The fact that his discontent and emotional turmoil is based on what happened BEFORE I ever e’ffing worked for this company, isn’t taken into consideration. At least…not really because the score is in and, quite frankly, I look like I’m not doing my job.

I know these are (mostly) issues that have already been dealt with by me – because, of course, I called him to find out who pissed in his cornflakes and why he suddenly hates me. Turns out he really doesn’t hate ‘me’ per se, but felt the need to vent, anyway. I get it – but maybe let me know you’re (Still) unhappy about stuff that went on 1.5 years ago, prior to me working for the company… before I get thrown into oncoming traffic.

I’ve more or less sorted it out and spent 20 min. tripping over myself apologizing…

Except that…

I was STUPID enough to reply to the original email from HQ (with everyone who is anyone CC’d into it) with a question asking why this person was NOT included on our original call list. Because, gee…that would have been helpful, no? One of my problems is that if I encounter an unpleasant thing before I hardly get my coat off at work…I get a little stress(y) and my emotions override my logic. My bad; shoulda laid low and kept my fingers away from the keyboard.

But I didn’t. Oh well. Then I find out there was ‘another’ list that he WAS on but it wasn’t sent to me in time to do anything about it as he’s already filled out the damn survey. Moot (not mute) point.

So! Everyone who is anyone (and this includes the President of the company, the VP of Sales, my boss’s boss AND my boss)…are now involved. Not only that, every one of them feels the need to respond (some rather unpleasantly) to my inquiry – even though they are all clearly CC’d into ALL the other responses (from the ‘everyone who is anyone’ list).

Yup. It’s 11 am and it sucks to be me. I’m kinda surprised no one has called up to yell at me.

*Waits…*

That all being said, there is a silver lining.

Today is only one day. It will be over at some point and people (including those on that ‘everyone who is anyone’ list) will forget about it and move on. I DID get four perfect 10’s from other customers (I’d kiss them if I could), so really…I’m up, three (and climbing). Does this count? I think so.

Also, if I’m lucky, I may get to see that ‘boy I adore’, this evening. And knowing that… makes this shitty day all the worthwhile. Even if I don’t see him, I know I’m in his thoughts and that’s enough for me.

The sun will always return after a shit-storm, my friends, you just have to seek cover and wait it out.

Currently, I’m hiding under my desk…

Peace and Love.

The Significance of Toast

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 8, 2015

I’ve always found it rather interesting how we sometimes associate a taste, smell, texture, etc., with an emotion or positive/negative memory. While it all makes sense and our memories a are vast cornucopia of events with a multitude of minute details (like food) attached to them, I still find it amusing that toast makes me happy.

I’d have to backup a bit (okay…a lot) into my past to explain the significance of toasted bread; perhaps you can come long with me in this journey and remember your own associations with food.

Before we skip along memory lane, there is something you should know. My childhood sucked. Well, most of it, anyway. It sucked A LOT – and it was so sucky that I had (and sometimes, but rarely still do have) terrible nightmares related to my father.

I won’t get into details, but the point is not ‘everything’ was terrible/horrible/awful. There were good memories, too. This is a good segue into the whole toast thing and why I love it. More specifically: cinnamon toast has a special place in my heart.

Long before my father changed, (and not for the better) he and I had a pretty good father/daughter relationship. I was about 4 and he was my hero. He was my hero for a number of reasons but particularly because he LOVED cartoons.

And I mean…

Seriously.

Loved.

Cartoons.

He didn’t have them, growing up as a child seeing as the cathode ray tube had yet to be invented, and like many men, he was really just a big kid at heart. He loved cartoons so much that when we were older and playing games outside with our friends, he’d open the front door and call us in to watch the Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Hour.

I’m NOT kidding.

There we were, being kids, playing outdoors, getting exercise in the sunshine and pretty much having a good time doing ‘kid stuff’…when he’d want us to come indoors and watch cartoons with him. Clearly my father didn’t like watching them, alone. My mother, although never understanding this, found it humorous.

“Let them play outside!” she’d yell at him.

“They want to watch it with me; they asked me to tell them when it’s on!” he’d yell back.

Part of that was true. When I was really little, I DID want dad to tell me when the cartoons were on. This was partially because I didn’t have a watch but mainly because even if I DID have a watch, I didn’t know how to tell time, yet. Plus…when I was that little, nothing mattered more than cartoons , except for maybe candy and toys. Those two joys were right up there on my small list of must haves.

So, back to the toast.

When I was ‘pre-school’, I used to wake up early, anyway, and as dad was getting my older brother off to Galbraith Elementary School and mom was looking after my little sister (she was still a baby)…he’d make me two things that I still LOVE, today.

Cinnamon toast and a teensy little bit of coffee.

Yup, coffee. I doubt my mother knew that he was feeding caffeine to a four-year old but I adored it, he only gave me a tiny little bit in my little girl cup, and he put tons of cream and sugar in it. I think he felt a little bit guilty about allowing this small luxury to his oldest daughter, but every morning I BEGGED him for it and loved him dearly for obliging me.

That, and the cinnamon toast were delectable, delicious and as I sat watching Rocket Robin Hood (after Batman and Robin) and then, Spiderman…life just didn’t get any better! My mornings with my dad were pure bliss.

He’d sit in his chair with feet propped up on footstool in front of him, before he got his deliveries ready for the day (at that time he was the Watkins Products Distributor for Southern Alberta) and I’d either be lying on the couch or sprawled out on the floor in front of the black and white TV.

If I choose to remember things about my father and I, it’s the smell of creamy coffee, the aroma of cinnamon toast and the two of us completely enraptured by an episode of Batman and Robin.

So, whether it’s cinnamon toast, banana bread or cookies that bring on the positive/happy memories, I say relish in them. Too often we focus on the bad stuff that happened in our past and forget the really cool fun stuff…

Like watching cartoons and Batman, on a little black and white TV at 6:30 am, when you’re four…with your dad.

STRESS

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 4, 2015

noun: stress

A state of mental or emotional strain or tension resulting from adverse or very demanding circumstances.

I seem to have it. Or…at least some of it as my sleeping habits, suck; this has been going on for about 1.5 months. Not only that, I’m having to play relaxation music via YouTube just to cope at work. This helps, a lot, by the way.

So what the hell is wrong with me?! …you may ask… (I know I’m asking it.)

I’m tallying up a list in my head and it goes something like this:

Life in General

My health. Pretty good! – haven’t been sick in… I can’t remember when. Took on a new sport (indoor rock climbing) and that’s going well.
Romance. For the first time in about 2 years my love-life is actually on track, at least it seems to be heading in the desired direction. No complaints, there, and don’t wanna jinx it, either.
Work …Hmm…there are a few issues; the last two months have sucked shit and my commission will be laughable. BUT – I’m still sorta on track YTD. Sort of, because back in Jan. I was still over 100% (YTD). After the terrible month of Feb., not so much anymore. However, our year ends in July so I’ve still got time to catch up, right? I’m getting more things on the go all the time…but still, I WORRY my friggin’ head off about it. Not good.
The Cat. This is probably the most dismal area of my little life. He’s quite ill, no cure, only a matter of time, etc. etc. However, he’s not about to die on me, tomorrow. If I’m lucky, maybe another 6-months to a year? Hard to say.
Family. Well, THEY have themselves all sorted out – even if I’m still working on it. So, that’s good, don’t need to worry about them for the time being, anyway.
Accommodations. That’s okay, too. My landlady has stopped bothering the living shit outta me about her mail, so I’m happy about that. I haven’t managed to ruin anything…didn’t burn the place down (yet). That’s a good sign, yes? Looking to purchase, this year, may be having second thoughts but there’s no pressure; no one is ‘making’ me and I can stay where I am for as long as I want. (Unless they decide to sell.)
Finances – definitely got my crap together, there. No debt, nice little savings, I certainly won’t starve to death any time soon.

So, I ask myself: what’s my problem? Why am I feeling so anxious and, more importantly, what am I going to do about it?

I think from time-to-time we encounter these weird and unwelcome feelings into our lives and sometimes there doesn’t seem to be an obvious huge reason. Is it really work that I’m worried about? What’s the worst thing that could happen? I know there are a lot of reps that are doing far worse than I – so it’s not like my head is on the chopping block. And, I’m actually doing okay…

What gives, Carrie?!?

I honestly don’t know but I know what I’m going to start doing about it. I’m going to make a list. I’ve been a list maker since my awesome grandmother (Nana, to us kids) gave me my first pad of ‘list making’ at the tender age of about 9-years.

This is what it looked like, exactly. Except for the fancy booklet-holder-thingy, and Visitor Vallet.

I LOVED that list pad and used it all the time until it ran out. If I ever see any more, I’m buying a lifetime supply.

That ‘boy I really, really like’ gave me a little homework assignment the other day and asked me to put together a list of 10 things that I like about myself. Actually he started the list for me from his POV. I won’t share any of it but I will say that it made me melt into a little puddle of joy.

After much thought, I came up with 8 things I like about ‘me’, and felt I gave it a fair shot. Now it’s time to put together a list of the things in my life that are going WELL, as opposed to those which are not.

I believe it will be healing and perhaps put perspective on everything. Maybe it will even point me in the direction as to what is ‘really’ bothering me. I don’t think I’ll post them, here, but I will write them down (or type them).

It’s good to get a grip on your stuffs and come to terms with what bothers us, emotionally, before it takes hold and deprives us of our beauty sleep.

Namaste, my lovelies.

A Lesson In Communicating (Or Lack Thereof)

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 3, 2015

Besides being the dominant form of human communication (be it written or oral) – words are power. As a blogger, poet and fiction writer, words have been my best friend (and when I’m really pissed, my ultimate weapon) since I could talk. By the way, I talked at 9 months so you can imagine I’ve had a lot of time to practice.

It’s interesting, though, that despite humans using their ‘words’ since they could figure out how to…people don’t often communicate very well. There are a lot of misunderstandings, misinterpretations and general clusterfucks of people not understanding what others are trying to say. Or, what seems quite cut and dried/to the point/obvious – is over analyzed to death by the other person and the ‘true meaning’ is completely lost out to sea.

In hindsight, there have been plenty of times where my communication skills have sucked. Sometimes no matter how hard you try, you simply can’t express yourself well. We’ve all been there.

How does one solve this? How do we ‘know’ that our message was received/deciphered/understood? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve S-P-E-L-L-E-D things out to the point where I didn’t think it would be possible to be more concise, but somehow my words were misconstrued.

A good example: Last weekend, I was spending some time with ‘that boy I really like’. Well, my sister texts me. Now… I’m busy with that ‘boy I really like’ but I’m polite and I don’t want to ignore her. I tell her – I’m busy (insert his name here) is over.

My wonderful sister immediately thinks I’m saying the budding relationship with ‘that boy’ is OVER and proceeds to threaten to HEX him if he’s hurt me. Well…this brings up another, and closely related, subject of punctuation… as in ‘Commas’…but you get the idea.

The boy and I are definitely NOT over. But he was…standing in my kitchen as he was ‘over’ at my place.

It’s an easy thing to do. Thankfully, I quickly corrected her and tried to send her on her way. Thus, the hexing was (although narrowly) avoided. This didn’t end, however, because I stepped out of my typical sister-communication box and called her: “hon”.

Setting off a whole new set of alarms for my darling little sis, she now is concerned that maybe ‘that boy’, or God knows who else, has borrowed my phone and she’s no longer texting her own flesh and blood, but a stranger.

Egads!

The next text was: This doesn’t sound like you… What’s my middle name?

Now ‘the boy I like’ and I (still standing in my kitchen) are laughing! He wants me to text her a middle name that isn’t hers. I didn’t – thinking I’d much rather pay attention to him than carry on all night with my sister.

So, I called her. It seemed the right thing to do considering my frustration at trying to tell my suspicious-hexing, baby sis, that I was BUSY.

We chuckled…there was an awkward moment when I asked ‘the boy I like’ to say hello and the call was quickly ended.

And all because I forgot a comma.

See? It’s easy to miss-communicate.

Words have power. They can hurt (and possibly hex) and heal. They can create and tear down. They can bring joy and pain. They can make us laugh…and cry.

We achieve nothing if we can’t communicate, properly, with each other.

~FIN~

A Life Is Like a Garden

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 27, 2015

You’ve mostly likely heard that Leonard Nimoy passed away, this morning. He was one of my childhood heroes.

I started watching Star Trek (re-runs) at the tender age of three. Yup, Star Trek was right up there with Batman and my favourite character was/is the iconic – Mr. Spock. I am still a HUGE fan.

Although why I liked him then and why I like him now are for very different reasons; does a 3-year old know why she likes someone? Maybe I had a teensy-weensy little-girl crush.

It was his differences. Half Human and half Vulcan, always at war with his ‘emotions’, unobtainable …but enigmatically interesting! I mean, nobody could figure this guy out!

The character was a hit and continues to be. But that only scratches the surface of the real man and suburb actor behind the mask of make believe.

Leonard Nimoy was a gifted actor and director with such accreditations as: playing opposite Ingrid Bergman in a TV drama called “A Woman Called Golda” as Israeli leader Golda Meir’s husband. He also played Vincent van Gogh in Vincent, a one-man stage show on the life of the troubled painter.

He appeared in many classic films such as: The King and I, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and My Fair Lady.

He was a writer, a publisher…

and, well…there was this:

As much as I loved and adored ya, Len…after seeing this, I may need therapy.

I read that, initially, he didn’t like being constantly referenced to Spock as, truly, he was more than that. However, he candidly admitted that:

‘Of course the role changed my career – or rather, gave me one.’

Star Trek will live on, I should think, forever. But real people don’t. If we’re lucky, we get to grow old and then eventually we succumb to something – be it disease or simply old age. In the end, we leave this world and (I believe, anyway) move onto another.

I think you did live long and you did prosper, Leonard. I think you left an amazing legacy and inspired not one but several generations and more to come. Well done.

Mr. Nimoy’s last tweet was beautiful and poignant.

‘A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory.’

How very true…

Fade to black.

Saying Thank-You

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 26, 2015

Being grateful or giving thanks…is something most of us were brought up, as children, to do. Whether it had any religious context to it or not, (mine certainly didn’t) it’s still extremely important to express gratitude for the things you have, people in your life whom you care about and even lessons that you’ve learned along the way. In essence, I’m sure you can think of thousands of things that you are thankful for.

Without getting into too many details, there’s this boy I like. I mean, I really, REALLY like him. He’s super-duper awesome and although we’re at the very early stages of getting to know one another, he’s been incredibly sweet and kind to me. More so, I would say, than anyone else in a very long time.

I thought I’d send this boy a ‘thank-you’ because I am truly thankful for the way he’s conducted himself, thus far. I can tell he is genuine and has a warm heart. He’s willing to put himself out there and ‘just be himself’ – risking rejection. It’s not an easy thing to do and for the most part, people tend to be guarded and reluctant to reveal ‘the man/woman behind the curtain’.

I thought it important that he know how I felt and that I appreciated all of his efforts. I wanted him to understand that all the little things he did, caused happiness; the time he’d put in wasn’t wasted and his endeavors were wonderful and I will not forget them any time soon.

Whether or not the two of us work out in the long-term isn’t important with respect to this. What is, is that: He is recognized for doing something well and has been acknowledged.

So often we don’t thank people, even just to send out a simply ‘thx’ for whatever thoughtful thing they did for us. Try it. It works wonders and when someone knows their efforts are appreciated, they’ll continue to do good things for others.

See how fantastic this is!?

It’s really a win-win, here, boys and girls.

Also, it’s just good Karma (if you believe in that sort of thing). You’re sending out positive thoughts (which is energy). When I remember to, I think of 10 things every day that I’m ‘thankful’ for. I then say a little ‘thank-you’ in my head for whatever I can think of and send off those positive thoughts into the Universe.

Yeah, okay, I’m a cosmic kinda gal but it works for me so I’m sticking with it.

So, what are YOU thankful for, today?

I challenge you to think of at least 10 things you’re grateful for. Go, ahead…I dare you

PS Thx again, B. You’re a great guy and you need to know it.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 24, 2015

*Cue Neil Sedaka*

Yes, I know I’m dating myself.

This past weekend, a dear friend of mine broke up with his girlfriend. He’s completely devastated by it and although I’m sure she feels a hell of a lot worse, we often forget the emotional perils that the person doing the ‘breaking up’ feels. Of course, it’s not always the case (and I can attest to this from experience) some people just don’t give a shit if they rip out your heart, stomp all over it, light it on fire and then kick it to the curb, all the while pointing and laughing at you.

Do I sound a little bitter?

No, I’m over all of that and came to a decision a few years ago that the best course of action was to accept what was and then wish that person well. I mean, if they’re not the one for you, someone else out there is, right?

Go in love and peace, my friend…Namaste!

(Eat shit and die you fucking asshole!!)

Heh…just kidding…

Back to my point. Whenever I’ve had to “do the deed”, which hasn’t been very often in my case, I’ve nearly had a nervous breakdown figuring out how to ‘end it’ without causing too much emotional damage to the other person. Because there will be. Especially if they don’t see it coming; which I admit to, some have not.

I liken it to intentionally causing a serious car accident where you know you may nearly kill someone. No one actually dies (hopefully) but it sure seems like it. Unless the person whom you no longer want to be your sweet Honeybunch is a lying cheating jerk/bitch or abusive, you’re going to feel a lot of guilt and hurt, for yourself.

After all, ending a relationship is like a death, they say. If you can remain friends and it’s mutual, all the better! But how often does this happen?? I can count the number of times on one hand and have a few wonderful friends myself, to this day, who are past lovers. I also respect a man more if he has some as this proves maturity, graciousness and endurance. Some women feel jealous and possessive, personally it’s a bit of a turn on that a man is ‘MAN enough’ to realize that just because things didn’t work out – doesn’t mean that you can’t still value a person in your life and move past all the crap. The world evolves; people do, too.

You’ll question yourself: Am I doing the right thing? What if I’m horribly wrong; will they take me back?! Could I have done more? Did I try hard enough?

Most of those questions you won’t know the answer to. And take it from me, if you decide that the worst mistake you made is to let this person out of your life and you give it another go…9 x out of 10 it still won’t work out. There’s a reason you’re thinking of breaking up in the first place.

The key, of course, is communication. It always is and without it, everything will fail in time. We need to tell our better half what’s bothering us, what’s not working for us and suggest a solution(s) if there are any. That being said, we need to do this in a constructive and kind way as opposed to:

“YOU did this! YOU made me feel that! I don’t like it when YOU… YOU! YOU! YOU!

This is accusing, destructive, attacking and instantly puts the other person in defensive/must find an appropriate verbal weapon to protect myself with/angry, position. It’s a terrible way to communicate and will never resolve the issue but WILL create anger/resentment/depression and in some instances retaliation.

Instead, sit your sweetie down and let them know (in a gentle way) that you wish to speak to them about something that’s important. They’ll look at you all worried, wondering what the hell they did wrong and what the consequences may be– this is unavoidable. Smile at them, be reassuring and then say what you feel in a constructive manner.

Like this:

“Hey, Cindy, it’s not that big of a deal, but when brushing your teeth, often there are splatters of toothpaste all over the mirror; do you think you can wipe that off, after? It would help me out if you did and I’d really appreciate it. Would this be OK?”

Then smile at Cindy in a sweet and non-sarcastic way. She may get a bit miffed but in the end she’ll see reason and most likely oblige you. If she questions you further, tell her that it’s your OCD, you can’t help it but she could help alleviate some of your terrible urges to wash ever mirror in the house by simply giving that mirror a quick wipe.

Say what you need to say but keep it quick, simple and kindhearted.

Even better, if the issue you’re having is a bit weightier I use the three x rule: tell them what you’re going to tell them, tell them, then tell them what you told them.

Like thus:

“Hey Cindy, I want to talk to you about what you said to my mother the other day, do you have some time? I wanted to tell you that the information you gave her caused some issues between us and I was wondering if the next time you could maybe talk to me first beforehand? So, sweetheart, are you okay with what I suggested? It will make things a lot smoother and I know you understand my relationship with my mom needs some work!”

You get the idea.

Something else we often forget to do in relationships is: LISTEN. Yup, just stop talking, shut the fuck up and listen to what your darling has to tell you. Even if it’s boring you to tears or if it’s annoying. Tough, suck it up. LISTEN. It’s important for people to be heard. If you don’t listen to what they have to say, you can’t expect them to listen to anything you want to convey.

Think on that. And, listen.

Could my friend’s relationship be saved if they’d communicated better? I don’t think so and I know things were discussed but there were many underlying issues that will never change so it was best if they parted ways. Even if for the time being it hurts like hell for the both of them, it was for the long-term good.

Although not every relationship can be saved by communication alone, many will and every single one of them will flourish a lot more when two people DO talk to each other, discuss rather than fight, suggest rather than demand and stop doing all the talking and listen to what someone else has to say.

Nobody wants a break-up and no one wants to do the breaking up, either. It’s a terrible thing, a sorrowful thing that weighs heavy on our hearts (well, most of us) but sometimes…a necessary thing.

At the end of the day, life goes on, doesn’t it? If it didn’t work out, know that there WILL be someone out there for you who it will work with. Be grateful for what you’ve learned from that other person and DO wish them well. If you carry grudges or hate/anger, this will only impede on YOUR healing process, not theirs.

Be positive.

Listen.

And most importantly…approach your life with love.

That’s a wrap, folks.

Zephyrus

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 22, 2015

I must say that I’m happy with life.

I’ve been lucky and I’m grateful for everything that’s come my way. I enjoy my career and I’m good at it. I live in a lovely home and I’m healthy. But sometimes things we take for granted come to light. I had a feeling about a year ago that the little grey and white cat that I’ve loved for the past 12 years wasn’t going to last as long as I’d hoped he would. I don’t know how I knew, but I did.

We all know that most pets won’t be with us an entire lifetime; they simply don’t live as long as we do. That doesn’t mean we don’t become attached but let’s face it; none of us are getting out of here alive.

That being said, we can talk practical and logical all we like but as emotional beings, we face the pain of losing that which we love. Pets are particularly important to those of us who are alone, single and childless. Many don’t understand and there are plenty who don’t like pets and would never have one. But for those of us who were fortunate to bond with a little furry friend and experience that true unconditional love, we can’t gush enough about it. It’s the most wondrous thing as they are the most beautiful of souls.

Let me tell you about Zephyrus – because he’s really all that and no matter how old I live to be, I will never be able to love as effortlessly and purely as he does. Our pets are like Angels if you believe in them, purest of heart with the innocence of a new babe.

Years ago, I volunteered at the MEOW Foundation. Every Saturday morning I’d go there and clean, feed the cats and, of course, visit the kittens if there were any. I was newly separated from my husband and well…let’s just say he kept the cat. I thought I should adopt another but in a place with over 100 cats, it’s a hard choice.

One fine morning, I saw him. He was lounging on one of the cat trees, napping. I think he was probably about 9-10 months old at the time. He was lovely and I’ve always adored long-haired cats. I didn’t know his temperament but knew how to find out. I went over, picked him up and flipped him on his back in my arms, cradling him like a baby. I wanted to find out if he’d attack, freak out or simply relax.

He did a few things, first he just stared at me and then he thought to play bite and make a game of it. When I didn’t put him down, he relaxed and started to purr – very loudly, I may add. He gazed up at me with those massive yellow-green eyes of his in adoration as I rubbed his belly and I knew he was mine.

The first night in his new home was quite interesting. He was naturally scared and spent several hours hiding in the guest room closet. I’d bought him various toys, a new cat tree, litter box…the lot. I silently prayed to all the cat Gods that he’d use the litter box and would be okay in his new home.

Sometime in the middle of the night, perhaps around 2:30-3:00am, I was woken up by something very odd. It seems something was in my bed and they were jumping about and causing quite a stir. I knew it was him but instantly worried he was having some sort of seizure or perhaps conniptions yet…he wasn’t making any noise; most peculiar!

Swiftly and gracefully I turned on the bed light.

Alright, that’s a lie. I was half asleep and stumbled around for what seemed an eternity, knocking over a book in the process.

What I saw was nothing short of adorable and quite funny. He’d carried up about 3-4 of his new toys, one by one, into my bed and was having a little party. I guess he wanted to play (being still a kitten and all) but didn’t want to be lonely and all by himself in the process.

So there he was, picking up catnip mice in his mouth and tossing them into the air where he’d pounce on them, knock them off the bed and then jump down to retrieve them and start the process all over again. He stopped when I took notice…but only for a moment. It seems, his toys and play time were far more important than his new mistress’s sleep.

Eventually he settled down against my feet …I put his toys next to him in the event playtime would present itself, once more.

He’s nearly 13, now and has kidney failure. I may have him for another year…or another month; it’s hard to say. In the meantime, I will cherish him, every day. He still sleeps on the bed, but has moved up in the world to claim the entire other half. On the occasions where I’ve had boyfriends, he’s been gracious and moved back to snuggle up on my side or resided down by our feet…but he still sleeps with me and always will.

Once, someone asked me, I believe it was my mother, how much I’d spent on vet bills and his keep over the years. I can guess and think it would be the following:

Food, toys and other paraphernalia: $4000
Vet bills for his periodontal disease: $2500
Other things I can’t remember and current vet bills: $2000

Total: $8500

It’s probably less but I’m being generous.

What Zephyr has done for me:

Greeting me at the door every time I’ve returned home for 12+ years
Approx. 250,000 loving head butts and cheek smooshes
Countless consoling hours for such things as a broken heart, lost jobs, general upset and just plain bad days
About a billion snuggles
Untold hours of playtime (mostly tag and hide-and-seek but he’s invented a few games of his own)
Coming when he’s called (well…mostly)
Never biting me, hissing or scratching me – EVER. Play wrestling doesn’t count
Posing for about 500+ pictures for a budding photographer
Making friends with dogs, cats, boyfriends and family and being really polite about it
Never caring one bit if I’m: looking like shit on a stick, sick, grumpy, depressed, pissy
Never complaining if I: don’t have time, am late feeding him, late coming home, leaving him by himself for work or pleasure
Always being there when I most need him and always happy to cuddle, purr and generally give me a whole lot of love

Total value: PRICELESS

‘Nuff said.

I’m Back, Baby!

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 22, 2015

Recently, I met someone who has a friggin’ awesome blog. He writes extremely well and gosh, darnit all anyway, I got rather inspired. I also remembered that once upon a time, I had a WordPress blog and quite a few followers. So I said to myself:

Self…?’ You should re-start your blog and try this again. Well, I went to sign up, put my old ‘fragmentedpoet’ name in and…hey! It still exists! But crappity-crap, all my cool stuff is gone. 😦 Oh wait, holy miracles, Batman! They are still here… all this time and I never knew

Well here goes a re-introduction!

I’m a wannabe writing, amateur photographer and software sales gal; the last one pays the bills and puts food on the table. I’ve been writing since I could and before that, I used to ‘pretend’ to write in my little girl books with crayons, pens and whatever I could get my hands on when no one was looking. My sentences looked like long squiggly worms tied into several knots that would make any sailor envious. But at the time I was certain they resembled grown-up handwriting; I quite proud of my efforts. My mother, on the other hand, wasn’t so impressed.

At least I wasn’t writing on the walls, mom!

Well OK, there may have been a few instances of that but after several beatings with the massive, black shoehorn that hung, threateningly, on the wall by the kitchen fridge, I was cured of that bad habit, forever.

The point is, I loved to make up stories. Later on when I learned how to read (this turned out to be a HUGE help with my attempted writing skills) I developed an interest in …let’s just say ‘interesting’ things. Pretty much anything to do with the paranormal sucked me in like a Hoover on steroids. A few years later, everything UFO and science fiction-related, also got pulled into that head of mine. These two main interests spun and twirled around my brain for decades. In fact, they’re still going at it.

So, is it coincidence that I’ve been writing two very different manuscripts at the same time where one is Sci-Fi based and the other is paranormal? No! I think it was always going to happen. Now I just have to finish them before I die, some day…

I’m working on it.

It’s good to blog again. It’s an interesting sense of release and flow of my bizarre little mind.

So welcome. Welcome to my little world of poetic nuances, feisty rants, interesting thoughts/ideas and all of the little bits of strange ideas that dance around in my head. It’s a little weird inside here but it’s safe.

Hang on tight, stayed tuned and don’t touch that dial.

I’ll be back…same Bat time, same Bat channel.

Awe

Posted by fragmentedpoet on December 16, 2013

I can’t help but be awe-inspired at our human capacity to completely do something ridiculously stupid, then, wonder how on earth and WHY, things fell apart.

Really. Sometimes we are just that dumb.

And it gets better. Then we feel terribly sorry for ourselves, blaming everyone else around us for ‘our’ really bad choices. Suddenly WE are the victims. Yet in our mind’s eye, we know full well that everything that we are going through was caused by ourselves and our inability to:

Choose wisely.

Pause and think before we act.

Listen to our inner selves and not our wanton impulses.

We are all still such children but the sandbox we play in is a hell of a lot bigger and the consequences lasting.

What choices will YOU make, today and are you ready to deal with it?

Be ready.

The Secret’s Out

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 24, 2013

Wow…my poor wee blog has been gathering dust, I see. Shame on me. So – here’s what I think. Now pay attention because this works, has worked for me, has worked for tons of others and can work for you, too. You all know about The SECRET. That not-so-secret method of attracting positive energy, thus attracting the positive things in your life that you want.

Or…(because it works both ways)

Attracting the negative stuffs.

I used to do the later. So much so, that I ended up in a never-ending spiral downwards into depression, debt, loneliness, etc. You name it, I negatively made it happen. One of the most difficult things for me to accept was that: I was responsible for all the things that happened to me in my life.

WHAT?! You cry.

How can that possibly be? How can you bring in unforeseen things that appear completely random into your life AND be responsible for them, to boot. Well, boys and girls. I’m living proof. The more crap I just KNEW was going to happen to me, the more I felt sorry for myself and wallowed at the bottom of the dark well, the worse it got.

Then one day I simply decided that I’d had enough. Now, I didn’t become an expert at it instantly. It was a process that I started and got better at as time went on. I slipped a few times, wished for things and thought about specific things a little too often, visualized them and ‘poof’…it happened. I didn’t WANT it to happen, at least not the way it did or at that time but in the end, I caused it.

So, back on the horse I got and started again. Without getting into a ton of detail, I made myself ONLY visualize positive things. I really thought about what I wanted, how I saw it coming into my life and I was specific. I meditated every day to calming music just to make sure I was in the right frame of mind and didn’t worry (thinking about all the things that could go wrong with my plan). See…that’s the killer of the deal, the worrying. This negative thinking is a death knell for all the good stuff you’ve been working on.

I found the best way to stop thinking negative thoughts was to simply think positive ones and not worry about anything else. It took some doing, but I did it. I listed a whole bunch of things every day that I was grateful for. I thought about all the things I love and happy times I’d had. I visualized all the good things that were going to happen to me: I saw them as they were actually in the here and now.

Does this sound dumb? Keep reading.

I’ve been working hard at this for about three months now. All of what I’ve been wanting is starting to materialize. Money, a better job, contentment, and a great company to work for with fellow employees that actually work together as a TEAM. Everything is falling neatly into place and just think, I’ve only just re-started this process and I’m not about to stop anytime soon.

The thing to be always conscious of is that: It’s really difficult to control your own thoughts. You may be thinking: What the heck is she talking about? Of course I control my own thoughts, I’m thinking them, aren’t I?

Of course you are…but you have that ‘other’ voice. You know the one I’m talking about. I call it ‘back chatter’. That tricksy, sneaky voice that buddies up to you and starts putting doubt into your stream of mindful thinking.

This back chatter whispers things in your ear like:

You can’t possibly do that.

This went all sideways before and it will again.

It will be just like the last time and you’ll fail.

I think you catch my drift. You must stop the chatter. Tell it go bugger off and go away. Remember Sméagol? He tells Gollum to ‘Go away and NEVER come back!’

Well you can tell your Gollum to do that as well. They’ll listen because they’re you, after all, and you’re the boss!

We are all made up of energy when broken down into our smallest form. Every thought, every spoken word is energy and it’s power. YOU have the power to conduct your energy the way you like and attract the type of energy you wish. I once read that the Universe doesn’t much care about good/bad, negative/positive. It just IS. You think up your life the way you either see it or want it and it happens.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. There is always a case where someone like a child didn’t think up something horrible to happen to him/her…maybe they were sexually assaulted or something like that. I wonder if things are not more free form when we’re little as we’re not really full aware of ourselves, just yet. However, the person doing the assaulting sure is and they attract all the black deviant energy into their lives. I have a whole other theory on that but I won’t get into it, now.

My point is: Try it. Believe it. Let it happen. Let the love into your soul and stand back while all the cool, wonderful things start flooding into your life. It takes a bit of practice but nothing comes without effort.

The SECRET

Good luck to you!

Evolution

Posted by fragmentedpoet on July 11, 2013

I want to be part of something that is always ‘becoming’. I hate labels, boxes, specific cultures, etc. I am not defined by any one thing; I am unique and ever changing. We all are, really, but I find that people want to put people into categories, nice and neat pretty little boxes. You are the colour blue; not, you are the colour blue today but tomorrow you might be orange. It’s as if we can’t be all encompassing.

I can’t possibly adore technology, be a professional business person yet write poetry, science fiction and role-play online all at the same time. Yet, somehow I do. So what if I can talk for hours about the mining industry and then switch effortlessly to water drop photography, the paranormal and then on to what the Mar’s Rover is up to? Oh, and I’ll throw in current events, fashion and the weather while I’m at it.

People are multi-faceted and multi-dimensional. Most of us just don’t believe it or understand ourselves and how much we can do and be.

I am on a quest to be part of a company that lives in the now; a living breathing entity of always changing, always improving and always making sure to evaluate itself for further upgrades and features. I abhor the: we’ve being doing it this way for x-number of years and it’s working so we’re not about to change!

Really? Is it really working for ya? If it was, why do I keep seeing your company advertising for the same positions over and over again about every 6-8 months? How much is that costing you? I bet you don’t even know.

People evolve; people change. Companies are PEOPLE. Get into the groove, this century and most importantly, get into the moment. The moment is now and every moment after that. Keep up, listen up and let your team take you to the next level. Let your ‘people’ be people and give them the power to improve. If you don’t, they’ll improve anyway…just not under your roof. They’ll help some other lucky corporation make it to the top.

Your company isn’t a hive with worker bees that all think the same way and live for only the Queen Bee; it’s a massive web catching wonderful things in it. Every day, all the little spiders tear down the web and take those wonderful things away to do the best with them that they can. Then they re-build, re-model, re-design and improve the web to be even better and more intricate than it was the last time.

How will you build your web?

Kind of Blue

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 21, 2013

It’s early evening and dappled mid-spring light finds its way through half-closed blinds and murky windows, dirtied from last winter. It was chilly here this afternoon but now the sky has cleared and the late sun is warm and inviting. I’ve got the window open just slightly; it smells of spring rain – earthy and fertile, mixed with cherry blossoms and tulip magnolias.

I’ve just finished baked Atlantic salmon and whole wheat pasta for dinner…still a little buzzed on the ice cold vodka that I’ve allowed myself – oh-so-graciously.

I’m sitting here, writing for all of you, with possibly the best Jazz album ever recorded playing in the background. Miles Davis, Kind of Blue. It whets my appetite for creativity just enough to linger here on this page and jot down a few thoughts.

I live in such a high density area right in the heart of the downtown core of Vancouver and all I can hear are robins, soft traffic swooshes and of course, Miles & Bill Evans with Coltrane and Cannonball Adderley soloing, as they make magic with Blue in Green .

Once upon a time when I was in college and in the Jazz program, I owned this LP. It was the first Jazz album I ever bought. Unfortunately it died a sad death in a flooded basement along with my youth.

If you’ve never heard Miles Davis, never listened to Kind of Blue in the dark with your eyes close…I highly recommend it.

It’s a little slice of heaven.

Life as I Know it.

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 13, 2013

I wonder, sometimes, about the people that I once loved and cared for.

Everyone moves on. They find their love; make a home, then a family, a stable career and suddenly they are set for life. They seem happy, satisfied that they have achieved all of their goals – warm and cozy in their homes, raising children and planning family life.

Me? I flow with the current, a thing of the river and then on to the sea to be taken in and out with the tides.

They belong. To someone, somewhere and somehow they have taken root and flourished. All of them, gardens of colourful flowers and trees that reach to the sky so pristine and part of the earth. They are part of…

How have I missed this? Was I looking too hard for it that it passed by before my very eyes? How did it happen that I still lack a foundation? I build and I build but I am building sand castles. They wash away back into the waves and not a trace is left of me to find.

Maybe I am not meant to stay rooted in one spot but more like a petal that flies in the wind. There is always such constant change and the stability that I have always craved and wished for is never to be found. I am forever in flux, the cusp of a changing season but never the season, itself.

For me, life is not standing still; it’s the dance of rain in a storm. It’s the flight feathers of a bird. I don’t think I’ll ever be held in one spot for long. It is not my nature, and the more I want it the further away it is. I can see it but never grasp it.

I am water, even resting, I move up to the clouds to re-position myself elsewhere just when you may think I’m stagnant. I am air, a constant flow of moving particles. I am flame, spreading wild my cleanse; the path behind me still hot with ashes. I am sky, reaching out with all of me in every direction; part of everything at once.

Earth, I am not. Perhaps my love is my earth, my constant and my touchstone. I will wrap myself around him like the atmosphere while his gravity keeps me and binds me to him. This is where I lay my foundation as when the ocean claims it, he becomes the sand in which I re-build.

Food and Human Evolution

Posted by fragmentedpoet on April 6, 2013

Recently, I’ve been reading up on grains and if they are good for us or bad for us (to put it plainly). There are all sorts of arguments about eating a ‘paleo’ diet as our pre-historic ancestors did. There are several things wrong with this theory (in my opinion).

We’ve evolved quite a lot since then (although I’ve a few ex-boyfriends who may prove that point wrong).
There is evidence that humans have been gathering grains in some capacity for approx. 100,000 years. http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/174441.php.
Let’s apply simple logic there, boys and girls. Mentally, we were not evolved; it’s not like our cave ancestors had iPhones, were surfing the NET or had even invented the wheel. Simply put: they ate whatever the hell they could get their hands on and I suspect did a lot of experimenting. Mr. And Mrs. Caveman didn’t go to the local Cave Store and pick out what they wanted. Food was hard to come by – we had to go out and find it/dig it out of the ground/pick it from wild trees/hunt it/ kill it.

I’m not overweight or unhealthy. Neither do I live in a gym but I exercise as often as I can. I’m not a vegetarian or vegan. I eat everything in moderation including meat, grain, and alcohol. I don’t smoke. I’m 47 and look pretty young for my age. There is no magic diet out there and trying to eat like we did when we lived in caves is ridiculous. Firstly, all of our food is different. ALL OF IT. Nothing is without some sort of additive or has not been affected due to our pollutants we’ve added to our entire planet. Even organic this and that cannot truly be organic as our very soil – our air, is polluted in some way. Just walk down the street and smell the gas fumes or cigarettes – look up at the sky and see the con-trails by planes.

It’s everywhere.

That all being said, humans are the most adaptable creatures on this planet. We adapt to everything and we will always prevail in some capacity. The answer is to stop eating so much crap. Fast Food is the worst. Don’t drink yourself stupid, don’t smoke for God’s sake – you may as well be sucking up poison.

Moderation, moderation, moderation.

Serendipitous –

Posted by fragmentedpoet on March 19, 2013

For all those online friendships; we all get caught in the web. 🙂 the WWW, that is.

Finding bold beauty
with eyes shut tight,
heart hidden soft in lullabies
and tongue stilled

When dreams, unremembered
follow into waking day
led by tight fingers wound round beliefs
taking you ahead into still light

When we find joy
without searching or need
without want, a flight of abandoned shyness
across a sea of moving electrons

Where friendships form
trust taking hold, become relationships
faceless fragments of meaning find you
nameless words catch and hold you

And you didn’t see it coming
Until, quite by accident,
Tripping over sypmpatico and fiber optic light impulses
You discover that absolutely everything…

Is lost in heaven and wonder

Valentine’s Day…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on February 14, 2013

Roses, movies, dinner, making love…

I can’t tell you how many Valentine’s Day evenings I’ve spent alone and the last time I was with that special someone? I would say a decade ago. It’s difficult these days, people live in different cities; it’s mid-week…etc., etc.

Does it matter anymore? I don’t know. Is this actually a special day or one induced by marketing? I’m on the fence. In the past I’ve gone to great lengths for my man on this day. Did it pay off? I don’t think so. Oh, I’m sure they appreciated it at the time to some degree but at the end of the day I doubt they cared much. These days I’m just not sure what to do.

What is the etiquette when you’re middle aged? I haven’t got a clue.

All I know is that it’s a Thursday, I’m alone sitting here typing and the only male around is napping on the bed. I love him dearly…even if he wakes me up at God-forsaken hours. He even has his own declaration of this human event.

Can you spot his heart? It’s the first thing I noticed about him when I picked him out, chose him…all those years ago while volunteering at the MEOW Foundation in Calgary, AB.

He is and always will be my funny little Valentine…

Old Wives Tales

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 18, 2013

Personally I like the new-fangled title of Urban Legends. I keep seeing/hearing people blissfully going around making statements about common things that are absolutely not true. Why doesn’t anyone question the validity of random comments stated as fact?

The other day my aunt re-quoted what a friend had told her about margarine. It sounded ridiculous and I just had to look this up to see if any if it were true. None of it was. Ludicrous, bold affirmations peppered this email-chain like a professional document. You’d think the people that invented margarine were out to get us butter-loving enthusiasts and kills us off!

I was so incensed that I commented with the link to Wikipedia with the history behind the dubious butter wannabe. No one said a word back. I nearly choke on my own spit every time someone innocently says: well, dragonflies have meaning because they only live for one day…wake up, people!

In real life, they live for over 6 months and not because they die of old age, but because they became food for other little beasties. I can actually claim that I met a somewhat intelligent person who still believed that toads can give you warts.

In an age where information is literally at our fingertips within seconds, it saddens me to see such ignorant idiocy populate our minds and being passed on to other seemingly resourceful people who accept it as FACT.

Think, my friends. Don’t accept everything you read as truth; don’t spread crap around the internet when you haven’t done your homework to find out if it’s FACT or FICTION.

Rub a few brain cells together and do some research before you start preaching the word.

I’m reminded of silly rumours I used to hear when I was in grade 4. Stories that were passed around from child to child about something so insane that it made little girls & boys gasp with wonder, horror and curiosity.

We are not little kids anymore; stop polluting the world with untruths.

Two out of Three Ain’t Bad…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on January 7, 2013

Another Happy New Year! I had a peek at my post from last year and discovered that I actually accomplished two out of the three goals on my list. That’s not half bad.

One to go; I can live with that. I’ve added a few new ones along the way but they’re easily attainable.

May all of you reach your goals, whatever they may be; may you find happiness this year and always.

You’ve come a long way, baby…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 22, 2012

You know, I’ve been on the hunt for a truthful, meaningful relationship for the past four+ years. For the most part, it’s been painful. I’ve dated (and been engaged to) cheaters, compulsive liars, men who can’t commit and would rather keep you on the hook until they find something better. You’re nothing but a convenient bed partner for them and you’re ‘ok’…but they keep looking for the next best thing.

I’ve dated men who are (and always will be) players, those that have been (and still are) addicted to dating sites; it’s like a hobby they take up. Along the way, I’ve met crazy people who one minute claim that I’m the best thing since sliced bread and then the next they ditch me because they can’t handle it…then (and this was probably the best one, yet) three weeks later they MARRY a virtual stranger.

Yes, folks, I’ve seen it all. Men, who can’t take care of themselves, seem lost in life, flitting here and there. One minute they want to move in with you and build a life, the next they run off to Alberta, and then back to Montreal…they bring nothing but chaos into their own lives (and yours if you’re lucky enough to be attached to them).

Some think they can fool you into believing that they are committed yet still think it’s ‘ok’ to continue to date other women from dating sites claiming that ‘it’s just friends’.

Uh, huh…and I was born yesterday, boys.

I’ve had self-righteous ones who claim they’re enlightened and so very highly elevated to the point that you simply can’t comprehend them and because you’re so in the dark and beneath them, it’s impossible for the two of you to work out. (This one is runner up for second best).

I’ve been led on, lied to, fooled, hurt, disappointed, let down, abused and cheated on – several times.

Then…

Just as you think every male out there is just like the ones you’ve wasted your time with, someone comes along and completely knocks your socks off. He’s so damn perfect that at first you’re not sure you even want him because it’s impossible to believe he can be THAT right for you. So you write him off.

But because he IS that perfect for you and he damn well knows it, he doesn’t give up. Nope. He keeps knocking on your door, keeps in touch, keeps hoping and then when the light bulb finally goes on in a really big way (kind of like the sun full on in your eyes at mid-day in the middle of summer)…you can’t believe your luck.

Then he confesses that not only were you worth the wait but he would have waited one hell of a long time for you to come to your senses because….

…he knows you’re the one for him and he’s the one for you. He brings you into his life, his arms and his heart and keeps you safe in there. And as it turns out, all this time you’ve been looking for him, he’s been out there looking for you! Unbelievable.

When you look into his ice-blue eyes with your warm earthy hazel ones, there are no words that need to be exchanged. He’s yours, you’re his. Nothing more needs to be said or understood.

I’ve come a long way, baby, and I’ve kissed one hell of a lot of frogs along the way. It wasn’t a prince who turned up but a Knight and Champion, weather beaten, a little bruised but strong and full of love; he’s the one ready to stand guard, protect and be a loyal mate.

I can honestly say, it was well worth the torture and if I had to do it all over again, I would…just to be with him.

When We Were Wee

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 20, 2012

Remember the good ole’ days? Specifically, I’m speaking to the 45+ crowd (or so…). We didn’t wear seat belts, there were no air bags; wearing a crash helmet whilst riding your banana bike would get you beat up…or at least laughed at.

Computers were the size of an entire building and our telephones used a little turn-thing called a rotary dial. If you were lucky, you had a ‘private’ line rather than a party one. The concept of smart phones, the internet, texting, Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn were not even a twinkle in anyone’s eye.

Yet…

Social media? Was that some sort of Tupperware party for newspaper reporters? Our cars were big, our dreams were even bigger. Mine were humongous.

No one had a cow and thought you’d die of poisoning (possibly within seconds) if you drank from the garden hose. In fact, it kind of tasted good; it had an interesting bouquet with a hint of sunshine and July-rain notes and was warm and earthy on the palette. It tasted like summer holidays, hot afternoons, oh, and rubber.

I grew up on the Southern Alberta prairies. For fun there were no video games, iTunes, home theatre entertainment or any of that sort. We built forts in the dirt and weeds. The day consisted of being covered in mosquito bites and smelling like stink bugs. Oh, and we had a fine coat of dust from the clay dirt; it was very windy in my town.

In the winter we froze our little bums off – again building forts but this time in 10’ of snow. Fort building should have been a career choice for some of us. I hung out in alleys playing games of hide and seek with a group of 8 or so, friends. Our territory extended for about 3 blocks. We had a game of monopoly going for 6 weeks straight.

We had fun.

Life wasn’t glamorous but it wasn’t hectic, either. I liked life, back then. We got hurt, dirty, were bullied but we learned to fight back. In third grade, a boy stole my hat and smacked me in the dead of winter. When I caught up with him, not only did I get my hat back but I nailed him in the kisser (with my fist, not my lips). He never bothered me again. And if he did? I had a big brother who was 6 years my senior.

We dealt with things and life in an almost wholesome way. I didn’t swear for fear that somehow my mother, who had ears like a cat, would find out and I wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week. We got spanked and then we learned to behave. I had the fear of authority in me and I respected it.

I didn’t grow up to become a killer or victim and I didn’t die from rubber poisoning from the garden hose; when I fell off my bike, I healed.

Despite not having Facebook, seat belts, electronic readers, smart phones and every other wonderful thing that we seemingly can’t live without when I was young – I’m actually thriving!

Go figure.

Pardon me, eh?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 15, 2012

Canadian’s are ridiculously polite…on the outside, that is. Inside we’re thinking something entirely different. Take for instance the fact that we line up for elevators. The building I work in quite possibly has the worst and longest wait for its elevators within the known Universe. Yet, while elevators 1, 2 and 3 are conveniently ‘parked’ on floors, 16, 5 and 12 – the 4^th elevator will eventually glide down (stopping on every single stop) to the lobby. You just know that only one person gets out.

However, there we are – cued up like good little boys and girls for the oncoming ride. All that is…except for those few individuals that march right past the cue and stand at the front of the line, pretending the nice, neat row of 12 or so people behind them just doesn’t exist.

And we say nothing.

No one speaks up.

We stand there placidly looking at the floor, or our watches or cautiously glance here and there almost nervously.

But you know what we’re thinking, don’t you?

How DARE she cut in front of the line, why that &!@#@#!!!, did she NOT see the rest of us?! She must not be Canadian! Pft! Next time she’d better at the very least say: Pardon me or excuse me or even sorry! Then, of course, she’s perfectly welcome to jump the cue and we won’t stand quietly staring at her in disbelief whilst showing no expression on our faces, whatsoever. No, we will acknowledge her apology and smile at her. We may even say:

Oh, that’s ok!

And that, my friends, is what really goes on in our Canadian heads.

True story.

…for those who gave their lives and lay not where we know…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on November 10, 2012

Potter’s Field

How will you know me?
Beneath winter’s first snowfall
I remain nameless
Tread lightly where I now sleep,
Leave prints so I know you’ve come.

Romance is Dead, she was killed off by dating sites.

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 20, 2012

Long live the i-World.

The, i-want, i-get, i-reality shows, i-need, i-deserve. Me, Me, Me.. It’s all about ME!

i-match, i-fish – i-date… it’s insane.

It sickens me. People treat each other like little kids did with trading sports cards or marbles.

Got it, need it, want it, got it, trade it.

Our fast-paced lives have included fast-paced affairs, one after the other peppered into our lives like ticked off calendar days hanging on our walls.

Monday date with this person – ‘tick’…Wednesday date with that person – ‘tick’.

There is no love it seems and whenever I bring up the subject I get some fanciful, long-winded speech to which the end result is always the question: Do we really even know what love is??

Of course we do. We’ve just forgotten where are hearts are because we live in this ridiculously over stimulated environment and we are completely lost in it. We no longer ‘think’ for ourselves so why do I get so bewildered when we can no longer love for ourselves, either?

I just may be the last diehard romantic person on the planet who is still capable of falling in and being in…love.

Maybe they’ll ask me to do a reality show on it.

*kidding…*

And now for something completely different…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 8, 2012

All right, not that different. Often I’ll reach out to people I’ve met along the road of life and say: Hey…thinkin’ of ya, how’s it goin’? It’s a simple friendly hello without an agenda.

What does that say about me? It says that I think of others and that although someone’s life has touched me very briefly, that I care and wish to send along good thoughts and energy.

What does that say about you if you completely ignore me?

An interesting conversation, I’m sure.

Everybody’s Talkin’…

Posted by fragmentedpoet on October 1, 2012

I don’t hear a word they’re sayin’….

Seriously. I keep meeting these people who’ve got all sorts of ideas and theories on the meaning of humanity and it’s about to make my head melt. It’s either all about the ‘meaning of it all’ or…some other complex and wordy explanation of how we should perceive ourselves, react to things (or not react) and stop in the moment, reflect on how to interpret how we feel and then deliver the appropriate meaning and feeling back to ourselves.

Does this sound complicated?? Hell, yeah. The gist of it is: If you decided to behave badly towards me, it’s up to me to deal with my own feelings and it’s up to me to decide what I’m going to do with said feelings or perhaps not do anything at all.

People seem to be in all of this self-discovery/self-improvement mode at all times that they simply forget to just…

Be.

Maybe, just maybe…we’re not meant to figure it out. Maybe we’re meant to get angry when someone does something that affects us negatively. Perhaps when we do, the other person thinks twice about their actions. Maybe we’re meant to react the way we do and it’s not just ‘what we know’ or ‘what we’ve been taught to do’.

This whole: You can choose how your feel and how you react when something bad happens to you is starting to sound old to me. Yeah, I get it. But what about being accountable for your actions?

I want to know one thing: Is it now ok to behave badly if the person you’re behaving badly towards simply works through their emotions and doesn’t let it affect them?

I’m still rather dubious of the whole idea.

I’m goin’ where the sun keeps shining…in the pouring rain…

Do You Ever Dream?

Posted by fragmentedpoet on September 13, 2012

You know…I catch glimpses of my nighttime (and early morning) unconscious adventures. They are like pale shadows rushing by. It’s as if they are in a hurry to get somewhere. I have so many of the same dreams or ones that happen in the same made-up place. It’s familiar to me; like scents left over from childhood. All those fleeting colours wrapped up with a pretty bow. I can still taste the tastes of those faraway places.

I’d chase those shadows if I could, reach out and pull them into a tender embrace. The feeling is good when I’m there and so very like home, yet…not home. They catch me off-guard: in the shower, in-between chores and whenever I’m not specifically focused on anything.

It’s like an elusive butterfly sneaking into your peripheral vision. You turn quickly to see it in full, but it’s already gone.

Tonight I’ll return to that place, I’m sure… I do wonder what I’m doing there.

Something to Consider

Posted by fragmentedpoet on August 29, 2012

Even though you really, really want to. Even if your best response ever is at the tip of your fingers and you’re dying to set it free and shoot from the hip. Even if you know you’re in the right 150%…

Sometimes, the best answer is: No answer at all.

Think on that.

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