The things I learned today,

I this morning I opened my eyes and saw the sun light streaming through my window and thought what a beautiful day. There were very few clouds in the sky, but enough to give it a picturesque view. I thought to myself what a gorgeous day and then I bawled my eyes out, which I had already done until 4 am the prior night.

I got up made my coffee and cried some more. Then suddenly my life changed. It's amazing how some people can change your life in the blink of an eye. Today a lot of people did that. Today I learned that I have real friends who stand up for me and who love me greatly, more than I ever dreamed of. I was truly humbled by the outpouring of love and support I have received in the last 24 hours and greatly uplifted.  I'm not going to say that my child and I haven't spilled a lot of tears but a lot of mine have been of joy today.  Okay maybe 50 50

Today I learned how loved I am. How important I am to people. Tonight I have no more tears I have been held by arms that love me, uplifted by prayers from people that love me and been given encouragement by people that love me.

So as I start my new chapter in this life I am happy and I have my head held up. Thank you to all of my friends who have shown me how greatly I am loved.

Doors that shut..

I wouldn't lie and say that I didn't spend hours crying, or that I thought my heart was going to fall out of my chest. I won't say that I didn't go over the words in my head like a broken record or hear them like a clanging gong every time I breathed in.  I won't pretend like I didn't have to wipe away the tears from my child's eyes.  I asked myself over and over what I did to deserve this?

Then I thought about the code of the Samurai:

Righteousness

Courage

Benevolence

Respect

Sincerity

Honour

Loyalty

Self-Control


These virtues I never just gave lip service to. I always remember that a martial artist is an artist for and of life. These are not simply just something that I think happens in the dojo, but it is the way I live my life. Every single second of every single day.


Even in the bible it says Philippians 4:8New International Version (NIV)
8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.


So I will think of such things and I will continue to live my life according to the Bushido code. It doesn't matter if anyone else does, only that I do. That is the true warrior spirit. I will go where I am wanted. I have left your dojo a better place. When you look at your crest remember fondly the conversation of a lost friend who came up with the name because your Sensei's had failed you. When your students wear it remember how you caused a good friend, and a loyal student to become a Ronin.
I will never give up.

Feeling Dizi and grateful.

No it's not a typo it's actually a musical instrument! To listen how it's pronounced here you go http://dictionary.hantrainerpro.com/chinese-english/translation-dizi_bambooflut.htm I don't speak mandarin, but the closest sounding English word would be deeds.

Musical instruments make me deliriously happy. Just like the smell of a new book or that feeling when you crack the spine on a brand new book that no one ever has read before, getting a brand new instrument is a kindred experience. Getting an old instrument is like when you opened a loved book and you wonder just where it has been before almost as if it has it's own story, receiving or buying used instruments is a joy as well.

My Dizi came in the mail a couple weeks behind my fife. I carefully unwrapped it and took a look at it. I'm not really familiar with wind instruments save for my penny whistle that I've been hacking at for a while. But I'm starting to amass them. Currently I have a new Dizi in the key of D, fife in the key of C, 2 tin whistles in the key of D (I'd like a Low D tin whistle and an Irish keyless flute) and a recorder which may or may not be in the key of F.

I've been really ill of late even though I've made a brave face to go out in public I haven't been well at all. The Dizi lifted my spirits and I've been pretty pleased of late with my deals from amazon. (Single mom saves money where she can). I'm also really grateful for a friend who spotted me some cranberry pills to expedite my recovery. I learned my lesson about reading labels painfully well.

I've been banging on my guitar a lot and of late I have gotten the paparazzi treatment. A couple friends snapped pictures and one of my friends shot a video of me. (I thought she was illuminating the words as it was dark in my yard) I'm not coming out with my Dizi or my fife for a long while. I do not want my squeaks and funny noises recorded for posterity.

Although I haven't been well at least I've got some new instruments and I'm content :D

Have guitar will travel..

Yesterday I had taken my guitar down to the lake and played while waiting for a friend. My heart swelled with joy as I watched a couple dancing off in the corner to my music. I guess they figured since I was brave enough to play they would be brave enough to dance. I wanted to play down by the lake and feel the peaceful calm of the waters of lake Ontario flow through me. I am most at home by the water as is my family.

It is a rare occasion when my child is in care of another and I actually have energy to do something. Last night I set my alarm clock for bright and early and decided to take my guitar down to the water and sing again. This time by myself. I get a ridiculous amount of pleasure from music. While I enjoy other people enjoying my music (it's a wonderful by product) I wanted to enjoy it myself without the need of being self conscious.

My alarm went off and I struggled to get out of bed. I was going to go regardless if I felt tired or not. I felt a little hesitation going so early to a somewhat secluded spot, but my fears eased as I pulled up and realized that the city workers were already there along with some random joggers.

I chose an outcropping of rocks the city had graciously placed there as a break water. George (one of my 6 string guitars) was safely hung on my back in my soft carrying case. I made my way down the hill and hoped that my feet would carry me safely. This is always a concern for someone as clumsy as I, who just also happens to have M.S. I made it down to the beach and looked at the rock outcropping. I had made it this far hadn't I?

The outcropping is almost like an adult version of hopscotch. I made my way across each gap, carefully planning on my next move. Finally I found a suitable rock to sit on. I sipped my coffee thoughtfully and enjoyed a breakfast I had treated myself to. I finished my meal and looked at my guitar sitting on the rock beside me and it seemed as if it were sleeping. I reached into the front pocket of the case and produced my Penny Whistle.

The Tin whistle or Penny whistle as it is also called, has quickly become one of my favourite instruments. I love the sounds it makes as I join with it. I also enjoy the randomness of the songs I can create with it. I'm no stranger to creating my own songs, but with the tin whistle it allows me to kinda play whats on my heart.

I produced my whistle and realized that I wasn't quite alone. There was an audience of wildlife and nature around me. They seemed to pay me no heed. I played for the morning sun, I played for the water that lapped against the shore and the rocks, I played for the birds that swam passed me and flew over head, I played for the little silver fish that I watch jump out of the water to catch it's breakfast, I played for the sunlight as it sparkled across the water, I played for the few clouds that looked like cotton balls stuck up in the air, but most important I played for me. On occasion a cyclist would stop by on his or her travels take pause and listen and go merrily on their way.

I felt nature enfold me as I played and struggled to keep eyes open to behold it's beauty.

If I could start my day like this every morning I'd be happy!

Nightmares

There is nothing more terrifying than your own brain. To someone one with MS or any other neurological disease this concept is painfully obvious. But in good health or in poor we all get nightmares, it's kind of a even playing field of sorts.

If you have had any experience in lucid dreaming it's a way to combat these terrible dark images that your own mind comes up with. Having been blessed/cursed with a rational mind I have been able to control the outcomes of my dreams for the most part. The introduction of martial arts and self defense has also curbed a lot of those pesky dark dreams.

The other night I had a dream where martial arts nor lucid dreaming could save me. I could not control my dream, nor did I have an opportunity to fight my way out of it. Sometimes my unconscious rational dreaming brain can counter whatever my rational lucid dreaming comes up with and it sucks. To top it off, I knew I was dreaming, but I could not rouse myself into a state of consciousness.

Equally as disconcerting to my nightmare was what happened when I woke up. I have been the hero in my own story for too many years to count, in and out of dreams. Also my bed has been empty for a very long time. When I woke from my fearful dream, the first thing I did was reach out to place my hand on someone who wasn't there. No one has been there for a very long time. Nor have I ever been in the habit of being coddled after a nightmare. The thought bolted me up right even more so than the dream it's self. Who exactly was I reaching for? I had no one in my mind, nor was there anyone in my dream who I was trying to grab a hold of. No, the reason I reached out was to have some touch stone to reality, and for comfort.

It is simply amazing the rate of speed that somethings can be processed at one time and take what feels like an eternity to process another. I knew I was reaching out for someone, for comfort for warmth, someone who I obviously thought was there. But who was this mystery person. In my mind I sought her warmth and love so I was reaching for a partner whom I don't have. I knew I wasn't reaching out for a prior partner. That wasn't the feeling I got.

But the mystery remains who was I reaching out for? Unfortunately my sleep cycle has been completely boogered because of this and I have been restless for days. I'm not sure why I can't shake this feeling. It's not so much of the nightmare that really has thrown me off kilter it's the mystery person I was reaching for and why?

That little voice inside your head is important!

You can call it the your guardian angel, your higher self, your subconscious, your gut, your intuition, a little birdie in your ear or what ever you will, but you should probably listen to it. Usually I listen to mine, because on more than one occasion it has saved me a lot of grief. Today should have been one of those days I listened, but what ever you choose to call it was absent. Yup, took a powder, took off, amscrayed, flew the coop, went on the lamb, in short left me for a brief while. Or at least I had it bound and gagged somewhere deep inside me. I'll start from the beginning.

A few weeks ago I saw some apple roses at a friends house. I had also seen this dessert on pinterest awhile ago. I used the computer at my fingertips and found out exactly how easy it was. Puff pastry apples looks easy wahoo. My first error was buying filo pastry instead of puff pastry. I followed the instructions and realized my error. I thought I'd give it a go anyhow. It was an epic failure. The apples didn't make it to the oven and back into the freezer went the filo pastry. What was I going to do with a box of filo pastry?

I remembered that filo pastry is part of my favourite food hors d'oeuvres. I had some lovely spinach dip and cheese in my fridge and stopped at the store and bought some brie cheese to stuff with some cherries also in my fridge. I was kind of excited to make all these things and thought of other random stuff I could cram into the suckers. This is when my inner voice decided to take a vacation.

I should probably say at this point I am NOT Greek, not even in the slightest. Most of my family come from the land of the potato people. I'm pretty sure that they don't do filo pastry in Norway, Japan or Germany either. So thankfully I have no ancestors to die laughing at my attempt. Usually I'm a great cook, today, not so much.

I dampened my tea towel as per the instruction on the box, took out my knife and carefully scored lines in the pastry so I could roll up the treats. I figured triangles would be easiest and hey who doesn't like eating pyramid shaped food?

Filo comes from the Greek word leaf. I don't know what kind of plant has such fragile leaves, but it's probably long extinct by now. I ended up holding my breath because I was pretty sure the mere act of breathing was causing the pastry to rip. Usually I'm pretty dextrous, but today not so much. I tried closing my eyes in case my gaze was causing the mass destruction of my tasty snacks. I figured I'm part Japanese, folding this pastry should be like origami right? My Japanese ancestors are cackling from beyond the grave. A two year old would have made nicer folds than I did. What I ended up doing was my impersonation of myself trying to fold a fitted sheet. Bunched up blob you got it!

All of you reading this are probably waiting to see the pictures of my end result. Fortunately for me my little angel kicked in and said, “Pamela, things posted on the net are for ever!” and I thought better of it. I also admonished her greatly for abandoning me in my creation of the food abomination that slid in a gooey mess out of the oven. It tasted okay though!

The rest of the pastry went into the garbage. Next time I'm hungry for something like that I'll open a box.