Tag Archives: deliberate intent

Ding-Dong KO

Ok, so sometimes my addictions, turn into a Multi-player Mortal Kombat round. I’m just as proud of myself, if the worst one of the ‘enemies’ is the one knocked out, as I would be winning a duel.

Sometimes it really is about picking your battle, and knowing that if only one was knocked out, then at least I didn’t die, and I’ll make it another round.

I am doing a lot better than I used to, but my addictions win more often than I would like. It’s a battle I’ve been practicing at for over 7 years and I still loose occasionally, but the little voice of inspiration said that I make it look too easy, and I need everyone to know it’s not.

The text conversation at the beginning of this post, was from the middle of a 5 hour shift yesterday. I was working front desk and it was a little slower for a change. Usually not a bad thing, so I never complain when it’s slow. The one exception caused my message to Nathan, I didn’t say a word to other staff because of embarrassment.

I was feeling weak, and probably could have used help, but it might as well have been the conversation I had to have over a shotgun which I couldn’t get out of my mind. I simply couldn’t have that conversation, over goodies, and with people that don’t really care about me to begin with. They care that I show up, do my job, and when shit hits the fan that I can handle it. They simply don’t want to have a conversation about, “hey, can you hide the goodies from me, my brain is torturing me already, …please?”

So I didn’t say anything.

An hour in, I had already looked at the box of Ding-Dongs over a dozen times. The brand new unopened box of Godiva chocolates had almost had as many views, but because it was unopened I wasn’t certain it was for staff, and kept telling myself someone would come pick it up any minute.

At one point I got so flustered that I got up abruptly, and quickly walked to the mail room, forgetting there’s a camera in there. As soon as the black globe caught my periphery, I froze in blush. Quick thinking, I gestured like I was looking for something and left. Only problem was, I noticed the box of brittle, I’d forgotten about, on the mailroom counter as I turned to leave.

I stood in the empty hall trying to figure out what I was doing, why, and what I needed to do. On my way back to the desk seat, I grabbed my seaweed pack and consumed it crunchily instead.

I drank a full bottle of water.

I amused myself on my phone for a little bit.

Then I noticed one too many glances in the directions of goodies again. At that point, I was lone staff, because the other person was delivering day-sheets throughout the building.

I got up and paced the floor. I refilled my water bottle and glanced at the brittle again on my way past. I grabbed my celery and sat to eat it, not quite even having gotten to hour two yet. I thought ‘better not eat it all, just in case’.

It was a little limp for not having eaten my sticks for 3 days. I’m burnt out on celery and it’s lost any appeal it ever did have, even the peanut-butter is losing any appeal to my taste buds. I ate about 6 celery sticks, each dipped once in peanut-butter. That was more than enough. I closed lids and left it sitting right in front of me.

Approximately 30 minutes later, my text to Nathan (above) went out as I was losing my resolve. Almost 3 hours into my shift, the Ding-Dongs were looking far too tempting. How was I going to make it another two?

I decided if I couldn’t managed a TKO, then at least the worst option should go down in flames. Instead of: gluten, and red-40, and chocolate, and sugar, and chemicals (all things found in Ding-Dongs that are bad for my system); I chose to go for the least impact, especially since the Godiva box was unopened and questionable. So Brittle won, and Ding-Dongs and chocolate were knocked-out!

Me and brittle. Mmmmm.

When I went to retrieve a piece, I got a big chunk with two smaller ones stuck to it. I decided I’d eat the two small bits and save the big one for later.

As my last two hours ticked by it was: celery stick with pb, pause, brittle, pause, celery stick, pause, brittle, pause, celery stick, pause, brittle and so on. Every few minutes a nibble of something. I also worked on a non-vital computer task to distract myself.

It worked. I ended up eating only brittle beyond my regular celery and seaweed I take everyday.

In the ring we have Valentine Ding-Dongs, Godiva Assortiment, Apple Pie Peanut Brittle, and Treasa with her green shit. And let the fight begin! …. Oh Treasa is taking some hard hits there, but she stays standing every time. Oh, she’s fighting back, 1-2, oh, the right hook…. Now APPB has sided with her, oh my folks, who’s going to win this battle royale! … And the winning team is Treasa with greens and Apple Pie Brittle! …Crowd goes wild!…. Aaaaa!

Sorry for the corney ring-side joke, I grew up on things like that.

Anyway, my point is, I didn’t say anything to anyone except Nathan, and he even only got a couple of texts. But for me it was 5 hours of torture, mostly mental – granted, and a very strategic battle to overcome the worst damages of losing altogether. It’s hard to know what’s going on inside another person’s head, and it’s even harder when they have 20 years of experience hiding it. I’m not perfect at anything, but I highly doubt the other two people that worked via the front office yesterday, had any clue I was even having a mental battle, let alone that the two culprits to trigger it were within reach all day.

They were oblivious to my mental torture, because I’ve spent 20 years either fighting it silently, or withdrawing from the world. When I withdraw, I’ve either lost the battle and given in fully, or I sleep it off and hope I wake to less triggering things. I’m glad to report that these days, my withdrawal periods are few, fairly well distanced from one another, and short lived.

So if you’re struggling with an addiction, even if it is “just food”, know it’s hard. It sucks, and takes everything you’ve got to function as normal as possible, but it’s worth it. On one hand my addiction won’t kill me with one oopse (overdose), but it’s so many places in life that it’s super easy to get and often people readily supply the worst versions for me. I don’t even have to pay anything for mine to be triggered. And those people that say it’s just food… They have no clue the chemical storm that an addiction stirrs in your brain, regardless of what the trigger is. I would also add that known reactions to chemicals used in some foods, are indicative of some of the same known reactions to some recreational drugs. Sugar has been compared to hard drugs like cocaine in numerous studies on brain function. So, it may be just food, but it’s still very much an addiction.

It’s time that everyone get some slack for how hard we’re all working to overcome challenges, especially when many of us are very much addicted to “just food”. An addiction is hard no matter what “it” is. If you’re fighting at all then you deserve a damned medal.

Be kind to yourself and give yourself some love for it.

Also, find people you can confide in. I have my Nathan, but he gets tired of hearing of some the same things repeatedly, we all do. You need enough people to confide in that they don’t get sick of it, but don’t utilize having more options as a reason for complaining more. Keep in mind everything you talk about and focus on brings more of it, so if you focus on the battle too much you’ll just get more battle. So, regardless of my embarrassment, I still do my best to talk about my battles as little as possible, in an attempt to reduce their frequency. It is working, just very slowly.

Those of us fighting the good fight, we rock. Anyone that wants to put you down or belittle your efforts can take a hike or KMA. We are fighting addictions of a wide variety that didn’t exist 100 years ago. We have a bigger challenge than most in older generations would even consider. Appreciate your own efforts and thank your body every single day, that you have a chance to try again. Give your own self some love for all the things you survived, and apologize to every organ sincerely explaining your doing your level best with all the challenges that come your way.

Know it could be worse, there always something that’s worse. But also know that you are winning a tough battle and that makes you amazing.

May you triggers always be conveniently out of reach, literally or metaphorically. May you know you have loving support if you need it, and the ability to discern if it’s better to distract yourself and attempt to attract fewer battles. May you have confidence in your ability to overcome and succeed in all endeavors. May you love yourself for all that you have managed to accomplish. May you know you’re on the right track. May you know you are loved and supported by God in all that you do, and everything you need.

Om Shanti

What peace looks like to me.

This is segment 4 of my inspired climb up the vibrational scale this weekend. I knew that to get good things, I must focus on good things, and I used pleasant memories to do that. I’ll go through some of them here. I apologise in advance, it’ll probably be a long one, this really makes me feel good.


Peace to me feels like the private clothing-optional spiritually-open camp that Nathan and I used to frequent (kids & then Covid rules deterred that for a long while). It was so safe, and so secure, and so accepting that even at nearly 300 pounds I could lay naked in the sun. Peace is that feeling of knowing that it’s truly okay and safe to just be me, absorbing beautiful suns’ rays, no matter what that looked like to others. Peace was knowing that there were others of every body type, every age, every gender identity, every sexual identity, and many religious preferences, all doing the same thing. We were all finding immense pleasure experiencing nature’s bounty in our god given skin, being 100% authentic. The overwhelming knowing that everyone is not only safe to be themselves, but accepted as themselves, was so very relieving.

The organization that created that environment went to great lengths to ensure that it was sacred safe ground. They cloaked the land in energy so strong that just stepping foot there soothes nerves. It is so laden with divine goodness that nearly anything goes. You can literally do anything you want as long as it doesn’t create a problem needing external support (police, fire, ambulance). Even drunken debauchery was well accepted, you could participate or not, whatever you want, and everyone knew that. We knew we didn’t have to tell others what not to do, if we didn’t think it was appropriate for ourselves we just didn’t participate. If you did participate in activities like that, even the after effects were lessened compared to external environments, i.e. hangovers were lowered in severity.

Many trips to that place brought many things to appreciate. There were woods and paths to hike, naked if you so choose. There was a big pond/small lake to swim in, canoes and row boats to float in. There was a giant 4 story stairmaster called the main stairs that went from the co-ed bathouse to the ridge where events happened. There was ample camping with options to choose from. They all bring moments of joy for me.

Everytime I would get to the stairs I would pause. People would always ask if I was okay, or offer that I could do it- I could make it up/down them. But my pause was never about the physical experience of climbing stairs, even at 300 pounds I knew I could, and fairly easily, only multiple trips got hard. No my pause was appreciation. The view from the top down, dozens of half naked or wholly naked people making the trek. Beautiful sun filtering through tree’s leaves, critters scurrying along side the same staircase not concerned about the people knowing they were equally safe to just be. It was absolutely beautiful and breathtaking. The view from the bottom equally beautiful, especially watching everyone’s butts twitch in unison as they climbed steps. There was always just something so amazing, exciting and peaceful all at the same time. Even writing this I feel my words are not quite good enough for the moment I always took to savor.

The lake, it was just plain safe fun. I remember the first time a fish nibbled my toes and sent me squealing out of the water. I remember swimming, knowing it was already safe, and hearing a man yell ‘freeze’ as a water moccasin made it’s way through the maze of swimmers. We did, we all just stopped splashing, and the snake didn’t even care we were there. It swam an arms length from me, unfazed that I was floating in it’s territory, that is safety. And the big snapping turtle, someone speculated was probably nearly 100 years old because of it’s size, it never did bother us. I always felt like it would swim just out of the humans area to see what we were up to. I think the turtle found us as entertaining as we did it. I can’t count the number of hours I spent swimming in that lake cooling down from my hours basking in the sun. Every trip to camp brought one singular sunburn, often that tanned before we even left camp, I always did come prepared for that. One summer was so hot the sunburn actually was significant and my aloe didn’t cut it. I went to the herbalist that hooked me up with very expensive miracle salve, handmade for healing, and it did- quickly. One jar was enough for several self-baking disasters, and that particular sunburn, though severe, healed in hours with just a few applications of the salve. My skin was grateful.

There was the garden where I would swing, watching bees and hummingbirds do their job. A wide array of flowers and sculptures to gaze upon. The butterflies would swarm in a beautiful cluster and land on your arms, hands, shoulders, and face if you held still enough to let them.

There was a hill by the lake, perfectly round with mulberry and willow trees around the edges, called Venus Mound. We all knew the rattlesnakes had their den under Venus Mound, but if you were quiet and peaceful they would share the hill during prime basking time. It was just a matter of acknowledgement of their presence and respect of their needs too. All who were respectful were safe, and often the snakes would move to accommodate you. That was always awe inspiring for me, though I never tested that very much myself (there is a scardy cat hiding deep inside me).

The most notable experience for me though, out of all of it, was when I learned decompression and re-entry the hard way. My first trip to camp I had never been such a place. It took me a solid day to decompress and begin to feel the relief and realize just how special camp was. You see in daily life we all play roles, and often those roles seem to pigeonhole us into being or acting a certain way. All of life seems to function that way. And I had been told that people whom frequent camp have jobs in every field: doctors, lawyers, police officers, EMTs, blue collar workers, everything; and it is their only safe place, that’s why pictures are not allowed unless direct permission is given. So part of me believed that I was safe, but I’d never really truly lived an experience like that and it just sank in really slowly. After we set-up camp I changed into shorts and a tank top but was otherwise dressed like someone at the store in the summer. Then I started wandering and meeting people. There were a few like me still in civilian clothes, mostly still setting up their campsite. Everyone already set-up seemed to be nearly naked and oh my was it a learning experience. The first woman I saw bigger than me, fully naked, was hugging a twig of a transgender person. I damn near cried and retreated into the woods to hide my blush and remove my bra. Then I met some of the camp elders, showing their age, but freely enjoying camp as much as someone a third their age. And on and on it went. By the end of the first day I managed to go topless with just a sarong on my bottom half. By day two I found the freedom of “naked as a jay bird” in the trees. It was exillirating and amazing. 4 days were spent like that before pack up and the trip home. I had to really convince myself that it was okay and worth while to go back to “normal”. Once home and back to work, it felt almost painful. It took 3 days to readjust to “normal”. My spirit definitely prefers camp, and hates the low vibration of rules and regulations and people telling each other what to do an how to be. I see that, in general, society still has enough really low vibrational people that screw things up for everyone else, that rules are somewhat vital and necessary. However, I definitely would prefer a life lived the way that camp functions. People responsible for themselves allowing others to do as they please as long as it causes no problems for the whole. People openly accepting everyone as who they are, in the entirety of that sense. I look forward to days where or collective vibration raises enough to enable that.

So yes, camp to me is a huge symbol of peace, tranquility, openness, acceptance, freedom, and being 100% truly authentic to your core being. That is what I want to see more of in this world.


I wanted to add a couple more common-place examples of peacefulness and acceptance which we all experience at some point in our lives. Something that we can all reach for the feeling place of. My words about camp may be inspiring, but if you’ve not had a similar experience you might have difficulty reaching for that feeling place.

Hugs, are one such feeling place that nearly everyone experiences at some point in their life. It might be a parent to child, co-workers over a successful work event, significant-others/spouses expressing love, friends in greeting or as support, or even that of hugging a pet. What all hugs have in common is the feeling of love. It is that warm sensation that spreads from your heart. It brings similes to lips and sometimes tears to eyes. It radiates in and all around, making you feel special, supported, and safe. It’s calming yet oddly invigorating. In the moment of any hug, if you close your eyes, it is like God is holding you as their baby. You know you are safe and that the person you are hugging does care in whatever way that moment is celebrating. Even better are the hugs of unconditional love: parents consoling children and lover’s embraces. Those moments carry a love so strong it obliterates everything outside of it. Time stands still and the moment is just the people present. Nothing outside of those arms’ embrace matters and your whole being is enveloped in love. You can almost hear angels sing and there’s a sense of fairies’ sprinkles of magic dust all around. You simply know all is well and it is safe to just be for a moment, however long of a moment you choose. That moment of unconditional-love hugs, is a very similar feeling place to many of my camp memories. It is the same feeling place that God resides, and that connection with the one whom you are hugging is allowing God force to flow in and all around both of you. It is healing and uplifting. It is life affirming. It is a moment of perfection that shifts everything in your experience to a more positive place. It is your freedom to be who you are. Savor every ounce of those moments, remember them frequently. Let them help you even when you can’t recreate that experience in the now. They are God’s gifts to our memory and our thoughts.

Finally, I see children playing happily as another of those moments. It doesn’t have to be your own children, any children you know will do (don’t be a playground creep). When you notice them playing happily, really notice them. Watch their faces, see the sparkle in their eyes. Listen to the giggles and squeals of delight. In those moments children are flowing God. If they sound too loud, it’s because you are too grumbly (I know this from my own experience). Take a moment to check yourself and relax. Really enjoy the fact that they are happy. Truly take a moment to savor their joy. See if you can figure out what is bringing that joy, see if you can feel the ripple of it. Feel for the uplifting sensations, the energetic playfulness that spills forth. If you can feel it and savor it, it will bring more and similar into your experience. If you don’t have access to watching children, then try to remember some moment like that from your own childhood. Those memories can get buried pretty deep under “have to’s” and “should do’s” but they are still in your memory banks somewhere. Reach and dig until you find one and focus so intently you relive the moment. Feel how happy you were, remember how much fun you were having. Those are our blessings just like hugs. Those moments allow God to flow through us and do wonderous things. They feel good and they bring good. We all have those moments somewhere if we allow ourselves to find them again.

The more we focus on these feelings, these moments of peace, of joy, of loving acceptance, the more our world will improve. Let’s all savor our blessings hidden in our memories.


May you have good thought journeys that end up in the highest vibrations possible. May you see and feel our expansion as a collective. May you simply know you are free to be yourself in any and every way possible. May you have safe, uplifting, life affirming environments to recharge in. May you know that God loves and supports you in all that you do and wants you to know true freedom and safety. May you have more and more good days and find the healing that God knows you deserve.

Om Shanti

Multifidus

What are Multifidus?

Multifidus muscle (musculi multifidi) Multifidus is a group of short, triangular muscles that along with the semispinalis and rotatores comprises the transversospinal group of deep back muscles. They are the thickest muscles in the transversospinal group, and are shorter than semispinalis, but longer than rotatores.

Erector spinae and multifidus The erector spinae muscles produce the extensor force needed for lifting, whereas the segmental extensors, primarily the multifidus muscle, provide stabilization of individual lumbar motion segments

Beyond muscles, I thought it was appropriate terminology for linking together multiple elements of which one finds support, stabilization and overall functionality. That is why I chose to start my blog with that name today.

I have found myself pondering many things this week, and their link is me. They are all elements of my life that I string together into one functional cohesive whole, moving together for a greater good. They give me support through learning lessons and being able to see my own skills and progress. Without any one of them my metaphorical spinal column would collapse.

There was the strep throat, which once I got the PA to pull her head out of fraidy-cat and do her job, quickly began subsiding. It’s amazing how an antibiotic and Prednisone script when utilized properly for the appropriate disease works wonders. I went from not being able to eat or drink hardly at all for 2 solid days; to now I have a tiny tickle that makes me cough occasionally, and a couple rough patches in my throat that haven’t fully healed. I was less concerned about the lack of eating as I have already been eating minimally for a while. But the dehydration began to set in fast and by the time I actually saw the PA I’d already gotten chapped lips and my skin on my hands was cracking and peeling. If I’d have gone another day without enough water I’d have been wasting a hospital bed just because of lack of fluids. I’m just glad I got through to her and managed to get a proper solution.

During my short strep journey my mom visited. In fact it really was nearly the same 5 day stretch. She was not really concerned about catching what I had since we’d both had strep before. I love my mom. We had long talks about a lot of things. I really appreciate all the good things I gained from her. I realized that she has had a hard time fighting her own demons and that has left her feeling like she didn’t do right by me. I did my best to explain that there wasn’t anything she could have done differently and that though there are some things I’m still trying to change about myself- mostly from dad, and I truly appreciate all the good qualities I gleaned from her. She’s my mom and I love her.

While she was here she cuddled with kitties which I know made her miss her departed Rusty and Fuzzy. I miss those cats too sometimes. She also made friends with Zen. It was adorable.

She also spent many hours sitting on our porch swing watching birds and butterflies in our yard. I have a few thistles we let blossom to dry for tea, and the goldfinches, hummingbirds and butterflies simply love them.

Kansas City is still not normal functionality for many things and my mom loves gardens. So my solution, for being under par myself and not being able to do normal things, was to do a driving tour of the city with stops at a couple of the gardens. We went to Jacob Loose park for their beautiful rose gardens and then to Kaufman Gardens, both of which are free and open year round, though prettiest in May to early July. Anya climbed trees and tried to encourage Ian to try as well. It was good fun. We all had a good time and everyone benefitted from some calm fun in the sun.

After our day of sunshine and flowers, I drove mom home to Iowa. I was sad to have to let her go, and I sincerely hope it is not the last time I see her. I know she feels like she has lived a full life and she tells me over and over that she is ready to go home. She says her body hurts frequently and she’s just looking forward to seeing her divine family. We have a genetic heinze-57 mix in our family, but heavy on Irish, Scottish and English. However, mom talks about her dreams of her Irish family and her true love she never found in this life, even having dreams of her horse. I told her I can sympathize and told her of my dreams where I was Quan Yin and Shiva (that brought up a whole discussion of beliefs in reincarnation and how sometimes I feel like I get judged unfairly for cultural strip mining.) Regardless, I appreciate our long conversations and hope there will be more of them. There are some things I still don’t tell my mom, because I simply just know she wouldn’t understand. Her relationship history has not been good, and elements of it leave me knowing she would not understand polyamory. I don’t think she would be mad or upset, just that she is in the state of misunderstanding where you can’t believe that someone would willingly want to do something. So I don’t talk about it, but we do find plenty of other things to talk about. It made for the almost 300 miles back to her home in Iowa much less painful.

On the drive though I was sad to see how much damage the derocho did as it passed through Iowa. The entire I-80 corridor had major damage and it stretched for miles and miles both north and south of 80. Mom was saying that originally they estimated a third of the crops were devastated, but as the damaged plants have dried, they are now suspecting half of the crops are lost. Harvest will begin early to glean how badly everything was damaged. I’m finding myself glad over the fact that I have not consumed corn or soy for a long while now, and that even my meat consumption is lower. The 4 states that were devastated by the storms are all in the top 10 of corn and soybean producers. That means that next year the hogs and cows will have less feed and the myriad of products made from corn and soy will all be much more costly and possibly more scarce. Something I simply will not need to worry about. It does concern me for the rest of the country though.

Anyway, some of the devastation was so intense I just had to try and snap picture as we passed. It may be hard for the untrained eye, so I’ll give you a couple internet images of healthy fields and trees first. The first two are just what a healthy corn crop looks like from the side, 3rd is those healthy fields on a tree line, and last is a healthy soy crop.

Next are the images I managed to snap from the car- sorry for the window glare. What you’ll see: Entire lines of trees with their leaves ripped off, entirely or much more sparse than usual. Corn fields flattened directionally, corn fields with few stalks standing and those are ripped bare; soy fields with huge swaths of brown damaged plants; trees fallen by the thousands many still being cut into usable wood for alternate purposes.

What I didn’t catch was all the businesses and homes with major damage. There simply was too much for me to document properly on my short drive. It is a bit sad for me because I know a much different Iowa and it will take years for the trees to fully recover. Businesses and homes will be rebuilt quickly, a matter of weeks to months and insurance will do its job. Crops will be harvested to the best of their abilities, and there will be an impact, but Iowa farmers have always done good to utilize as much as possible, so if they can salvage they will. What they can’t salvage insurance will cover in the short term and long term people will adjust as needed. We will get through this as much as any disaster.

What it all did do was give me something to shift my focus to gratitude and to see what I do have. Ultimately I spent the rest of my drive back to my home focusing on the good things and seeing that my Atira really is here. It’s not as I have dreamed all these years, but it is here and it’s close enough. I had a solid knowing that I am good enough and my dreams did matter.

My big shiney Atira dome home, for a big poly family, well it’s me and Nathan, kids and pets, in a 3 bedroom ranch in Kansas City. But there is hope for more, and always room to grow.

My mom isn’t in a little dome on the back 40, no she’s in a little brick quad-plex in rural Iowa. But she wouldn’t have had upkeep either way, and she has the peace and quiet in nature that I always wanted to give her. She is mostly content, and though I can’t walk to see her, it’s not really that long or painful of a drive.

My grumpy ass dad that wasn’t even supposed to be at Atira still got to visit and see that all his demeaning behaviors made me a better person than he. Plus he’s being cared for by my sister whom, even without any experience, is probably the better candidate to meet his desires and outdated beliefs.

My business park is really just the clinic; and my significant-other business partners, well they’re not-so-significant-others. Despite having thought the one chiropractor had lots of potential with the energetic connection, I’ve come to terms that it probably won’t go anywhere. And the office manager is a kind hearted woman like my mom, that wants to understand and be helpful, but sometimes just needs others to be understanding for her and her concerns. The both have my heart in much different ways than my dreams of Atira had implied. No less significant though.

My temple is my basement and no gatherings have been accomplished because of Covid. This too will pass.

My affordable, very capable, mechanic that can fix anything is a good man in Merriam.

My stores are scattered all over the metro area.

My Atira community is really another companies’ retirement home that has wonderful people working and living in it. I’m glad that my skills are still of service to them.

My festival grounds are our old stomping grounds out at Camp Gaea, and those too have been put on hold due to Covid. You know if it’s clothing optional, that masks won’t be worn either.

My studio space is a corner of our bedroom, and Nathan’s darkroom is the spare small room in the basement. Our gallery is still manifesting.

And Nathan. He is my everything. He wasn’t supposed to be, there were supposed to be others to share the load. But Nathan does his best. He’s my love, my children’s father, my parent on duty, my home educator, my house husband, my resident photographer, my high priest, my magician, and would-be Gardner. He does everything I ask, mostly in appropriate timing and with little to no complaint. He even finally figured out how to help with income and for that I’m so very grateful. I am mostly amazingly grateful for him in my life, especially since the challenges have begun to subside.

My Atira is here. It’s not perfect and doesn’t match my dreams of many years passed, or designs exactly, but most of it has a current usable manifestation. I am grateful for seeing it come together. I am grateful to see that I do have mad skills and I am enough. I have created a world that I am mostly okay with and I am finally beginning to enjoy. One day maybe I’ll have a more accurate version in comparison to my dream scape, but for now I will enjoy the version I do have. I will continue to help others as I am able, but I now have a sense of things having shifted. I no longer owe anything to anyone. I have done my duties and met all requirements imposed upon me. I am free to be me and enjoy my life in whatever way I choose. Now I get to figure out that means. What is fun for me and how do I want that to play out. Can my spread out sprawling Atira Jr become the compact concise community of my dreams over time. That would be really nice. For now I just get to focus on the fun parts. There are so many fun things I want to do that shouldn’t be too hard.

May you see your journey and all of it’s manifestations. May you understand your place in it all. May you know all the elements of your desires are within reach and that sometimes you just need to widen your gaze. May you see those you care for as being important, regardless of how the relationship manifests. May you know that you have done all you need to do, you are whole and complete and more than enough. You are worthy in God’s eyes. May you know that you have cleared your debts and met imposed expectations. May you understand deeper meanings and reasons for everything in your experience. May you feel your way to greater understanding. May you know your own worth, strength, and knowledge. May you see how your actions benefit this world and help it to continue to function. May you find joy mostly and enjoy the ride called life.

Siva Hir Su