Have you ever noticed though that we, usually when we are teenagers, feel the pull towards finding out for ourselves? This puts me in mind of the great struggle between parents and their teenagers. Timeless.

The poet’s name is Amanda Hoppes

A Day in the Life

Beautiful

Emotional IQ?

We have names for “sensitive” people now, like “empath”, even “indigo children”, but really we are not those things. We are actually what healthy is. It is healthy to care and love and be aware of what others are going through.
The majority have learned to be without compassion and awareness in order to thrive in a cruel world. There is a book that people read to raise their emotional IQ, and like so much of the “philosophy” out there, it teaches people to “control” their emotions. This is not the way. If you want to raise your emotional IQ you need to have emotions, feel them, and express them. That’s how you get good at it. That’s how to “know thyself” and therefore others.
We will know that we have had victory over “evil” when we no longer consider caring, compassionate, and emotional, people, “sensitive”, but rather, consider hard people to be odd and in need of healing. ❤

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Mighty Waves

“Go ahead and cry” they say, an oh, do I feel those mighty waves, oceans of wisdom and healing, pushing and rolling against my breast. But today, like yesterday, I’m  afraid. Like so many, I am afraid.

The torrent though, the healing howl of winds let loose, the monstrous rush of those great and mighty ocean waves, are timely now.

But I, like so many, am afraid. To start.

C Villeneuve

For All of Our Kids

For all of our kids ❤

Magdalene Laundries

What they are in denial of is their fear of knowing and telling the truth. This is the thing. They fear the terrible “God” that has wielded these terrors and horrors. They are not necessarily “in denial”, as they are subconsciously catatonic, severely traumatized. That’s what they are in denial about, not the truth, but the wrath. They know the truth. C. Villeneuve

The religious practice of making people shamed, as though nothing but dirt, in order to enslave them to striving for redemption.

 

Dinner with Mangoes

 

   

Okay, another food post. I really should try to shape this blog a bit. Not today though. Today I’m making something delicious to eat. Here’s what I’m going to have for dinner.

I’ve got a boneless, skinless chicken breast that I’ve cut in two and placed into the oven. They are already cooked from yesterday, so they simply need to be warmed up. I rubbed some olive oil onto them and then covered them lightly with cinnamon.

I love cinnamon on chicken but it often burns if you start your chicken with it, so, because I’m only warming, it should work. It just adds such a mild, almost innocent, flavor to your chicken. If you are preparing chicken and add the cinnamon about 1/2 hour to 45 minutes before it is ready, add some juice to that baking dish because the cinnamon added to the chicken makes a delicious gravy.

I’m also having a tomato and avocado salad that I saw on youtube. A very fresh tasting salad that combines chunks of tomato, avocado, sliced cucumber, and red onion, with a simple lemon juice / olive oil dressing. I added some chopped garlic and some capers. I also sprinkled a bit of celery seed into the bowl and mixed all of this goodness together and put it into the refrigerator until dinner.

For the chicken, I made up a sauce with mangoes. I diced those up with finely chopped ginger, more garlic, a hit of orange zest, some dried thyme, chopped fresh cilantro,and some salt. I turned it into a pulpy sauce with one of those hand mixers that works like a blender. Once mixed, I added a small bit of finely chopped jalapeno pepper.

This sauce came to me in a daydream, so when I did the taste test and my mouth cheered in delight, I was thrilled. I will serve this on top of the chicken sprinkled with sunflower seeds.

If there is any sauce left over I’ve decided I will mix that into a cucumber salad for tomorrow. I’ll shred the cucumber like a coleslaw, only a bit bigger strips, I’ll add onion, celery seed, and dried cranberries, probably a twist of black pepper to finish it off.

I love that such beautiful and delicious meals can come from basic and simple ingredients. It always feels like some kind of great victory. It is especially great when those creations are this healthy.

Maybe I’ll hit that cucumber salad with a slight hit of mint. What do you think?

 

 

 

Mighty Oceans

    

 

The planet is alive, and always, even if it is buried ancient and deep within us, we know this to be true. We crave it, we strive for it. From beneath the stones of hateful worldliness, we know we are the same, that we are alive, like the planet, that we are always in motion, always breathing. We are always searching for this, though many don’t remember, the aliveness, the motion, of being like the trees or the toads that sing there throughout.

We feel intense grief when we know that the bees may be leaving us, that many awesome and wonderful species of plant and creature have gone before them, by our own hands we have sped their departure, but we let it go. Growling forward, believing that we have failed beyond repair, we let it go. “Too late” we think, but our soul mourns like an abandoned child. We know we want them here, those bees, those lions, those birds. We know that the mighty rolling ocean is us, and that the mountains and creatures are our friends, our commune, our life. They are our family, our guides, and our children. They are us.

We have become so disconnected, that crows are harbingers of gossip, and feathers, always a message from, maybe, our ancestors. We go along, our faces upward, trying to disseminate, understand, connect. Meanwhile, the birds flit by, and the chipmunks scurry all around us. Dogs chase the squirrels and out where it is wilder, fish, salmon, dolphins, whales, burst from the surface of waters teeming with sound and color and life. Amongst the trees and all about and deep beneath our feet, life is the “sign” we seek. We are already transcended. We are here.

Our feet are meant for this place. So are our hands, our breath and our songs. Even our hair can remind us the gentleness of a breeze, the joyfulness of dappled sunlight, and the wildness of the tallest trees and deepest oceans. Our senses are cleansed by the scent of pine and fish and seaweed on the shore. Our skin is washed by the sand and the sun. One eagle soaring wide in the sky can lift our wings and the tiniest flower can bend our knees.

And we, the people, prowl like feral wounded beasts, ever seeking comfort, ever seeking healing, ever seeking home.

C Villeneuve