YOu didnt think i was rolling outta here NAKED, did you?!

OK well obviously the thing with Bill was one of the “biggies”. Can’t wake up with baggage. Waking up is leaving the baggage. Boy i had some pent up shit over that boy , years old shit. Needed a major catalyst to make it explode out. Cheating worked. Yup. So it’s gone, mostly gone. Residual pain. Not too bad. I’m distracted from it by the peace of letting it go finally.

AND SO AND SO. I quit my job. I am giving over to the Natural State. It’s more easily deciphered now , from the mind chatter. It’s so OBVIOUS. I want to cozy in a warm bed this winter with my boy. I don’t want to send him somewhere he is miserable. To learn WHAT, exactly? Not to put school or the notion of school down–it worked for the girl. She enjoyed it. Boy wants reality like his mom.. Money comes and will come. I didn’t know I was going to get E.I. I was willing to wing it. Money will come, or what is needed will come. OR, it won’t and I’ll be uncomfortable and then another option will appear.

I won’t chase love. Outside has nothing for me; i knew this from a young age and i knew it intrinsically on that fuckin day. Wholeness; Home; I AM. And then what is left is cake. Meeting another human mind that gels with this one is fine. Body heat. Company. Underneath? : same as This.

Reality recognizes Reality. I AM recognizes I AM.

So I guess this is it. After the “first kiss” it was all inevitable, I suspect. Now what?

Ok i’ll keep you posted. It’s all very interesting watching Me fall away. I’m not really scared anymore. Fear comes when I resist. Resisting comes in past or future thought. There is no resistance to Now. How could there be? It’s over as soon as it’s begun.

I’m pretty happy to give over to truth. throwing myself at the feet of Whatever beats my heart; mercy. The first time; something resisted the realization that Time doesn’t actually EXIST. Then, there was resistance , little by little, until The Narrator was back. Like a SNAKE.

Hmmm. The Snake. = The Narrator (?) perhaps. Fucking NARRATOR, man.

It appears to me that suffering comes when our (however weak) awareness of our Natural State is in conflict with the idea of The Culture.

But nobody knows why they’re doing anything! They’re doing it bcos “this is the way it’s DONE” what the FUCK kind of sense does that make? That mentality is DYING, my friends. I don’t know about you but i’m getting the FUCK on the lifeboat, man.


Ghetto Summer on SSI


OK so since i live a most amusing and fascinating life I’ve decided to expand the purpose of this blog to everyday bullshit. So here’s how MY weekend went. FRIDAY: kids are gone so I get a six’er and head over to the weekend booty calls house. We get drunk while he’s cooking and I realize after several hours I don’t want to be there anymore. So i just get my shit and leave. That’s the fabulous thing about emotionally unavailable men: they can’t even hold you to the social etiquette of staying for dinner if you feel like leaving before it’s ready. Because they have absolutely nothing to offer you in return: i’m not asking for anything. It’s just sex.  If I want to walk out half drunk at 6 pm and go dancing, I can do that. And if he wants to be pissed off; he’s free to do so. And NOT get laid next weekend. Whatever.

So I go to pick up Bill who for some reason I still love; and dude won’t even go get some beer and wings with me. Doesn’t want to lead me on, you see. I’m straddling him and tickling him and biting his neck and he’s all good with it but doesn’t want to go to the bar with me. Ok fine whatever. I go alone and holy fuck if it’s not the perfect storm: Chandra on an 8 hour pass from Detox, a couple of her crowd, some dude named Nixon who won’t let me be (fine by me). Danylchuck, Marcus,Connie (who God knows why, has started appearing to be one of the more empathic and reasonable of the bunch) Becca and Ben, (sorry Becca I wasn’t in the mood to throw down , i know you were disappointed! LOL! )Jonah, Jesus everyone showed up. I call Chandra over to my table and drunkenly explain that I am not going to run her over or anything. That I’ve lost my shit this summer and honestly if he had slept with ANY other woman i’d have been better off; but she was a friend. At least I considered her so. Go to her facebook page, you’ll see me all over there. I told her I thought she honoured The Girl Code, that I could trust her. And i told her it was too bad… I was drunk and depressed, and probably conveyed to her that i’d more or less given up on the whole situation. (guess so; she appears to have unblocked me on facebook lol)

Well I phone Bill to tell him (drunkenly ) that she’s there and that we had talked a bit (MISTAKE) and lo and behold he decides to scoot right over for dinner and drinks.

About a half hour after he showed i was so disgusted I just got a cab and went home. Fuck it all.

SATURDAY; i took Max over to Bill’s. I got on his ass about how he zipped right over to the bar when he found out she was there. He kept claiming that he did so “to keep an eye on things” yeah right. I know what things he had his eye on. Well he and I got into it a bit and i’d had a couple beers and suddenly was hit with waves of panic and depression. Just all pervasive feelings that everything is not ok….that i’m alone, in danger, that i’ve fucked up , that i will never connect with anyone ever again.

Took an Ativan and that helped, i went home, had tea, and crashed for the night.

That night I decide i can’t go out drinking unless I’m generally happy. It makes things worse. PLUS , who am I spending time with? I decide I’ve got to start reaching out to sober happy friends who i can trust and who offer nurturing and support and who I can offer the same to.

I also decide maybe I should quit being so emotionally unavailable myself and quit with the booty calls. I mean, I wouldn’t mind a companion, a real relationshjp. It’s been 8 years. I’ve done my time alone, I wouldn’t mind a partner in crime.

SUNDAY today i got up around noon and hitched into town (mechanic didnt show up). Got a decaf pour-over (nom!) and talked to Marcie, Lisa, whoever else. Got a movie, i love stopping into the store; my home away from home. It smells so good out right now. On the way over I had a “home” moment …that space between thoughts…ahhh….had one in the shower this morning too…just sat down in the tub holding the showerhead over my back and zen’d out. HOME . No anxiety. No future thoughts, no past pain. no worries just water warmth quiet

man i’m getting sleepy just thinking about it.

Anyhow bussed home and watched a movie. Had my nightly wave of depression/panic, phoned Bill. “I still love you, still think we can work things out” i say. he says maybe. Then i find out he’s ordering one queen sized bed….he was supposed to get the kids a bunkbed or , single beds? and make them a room. He’s ordering  a queen cuz then HE can sleep in it during the week. He has tens of thousands of dollars and wont buy the kids beds. wtf?! I said, who gets the bed when the kids are there? Well, Blue of course. I’m so  mad. I tell him he favourites Blue; he needs after four friggin months to buy his son a bed , a lamp, a dresser, a poster, and make him a fuckin room so he feels wanted (a problem) otherwise fuckit i’m not sending him over there anymore. I only ever asked for two things from him: to control his temper with the kids and with me, and to get his boy a damn bed and make one of those empty crackhouse looking rooms a bedroom for his son!

So yeah, so much for I love yous. This of course makes me a demanding bitch and is EXACTLY the reason he cheated with Chandra. oh, fuck you , man. I love ya, but FUCK YA

I do love him, he does feel like “home” or “safe”.

But i’ve felt the REAL “Home” by myself…when i woke up…it is inside me, no wait…HOME IS what I AM.  why do i feel identified as a seperate entity. and i feel it so acutely since i woke up. the illusion is so much more unbearable.

I’ve been worse since i quit smoking. Anxiety and depression has been increasing. I know it’s not logical. For the first time in 13 years I upped the Paxil a smidge to see if that levels me out.

When I woke up I saw through beliefs but i also saw through hope and faith. Hopeless, faithless, belief-less. Then left for every single fucking unconscious belief i’ve been holding to rise up and go BLEAHHFOIHDHOFA in my face. And i have to surrender to these shitballs. One after another. Yeah no, half a pink pill more, i’ll take it. Hold on tight this ride is a motherfucker.

THen Bill goes and fucks my g*(danged FRIEND while he’s still “working things out” with me. and somehow, it’s my fault. I’ve done like FIVE shitty things and he holds onto every single one of them and blasts me with them whenever he can. Oh, yeah i broke your tv and rammed her car. yeah, the DAY I FOUND OUT YOU CHEATED WITH HER! oh, did i break your window cuz i was drunk and whipped a little  stone? YEAH WHEN I HEARD YOU SAY YOU WANTED TO BANG MY OTHER FRIEND!  oh yeah i pushed you once. TEN YEARS AGO. I moved the kids to BC — 8 years ago, and put you up in my house for FOUR MONTHS so you could get on your feet out here…TWICE!!!

Oh lets not forget when i left you for another guy. 14 years ago , and i broke it off with him and got back together with you 3 months later. So sorry, i was 25 and had just quit pot…while you are still a chronic. It sucked ass.

these are all brought up as if they all happened yesterday and for no reason whatsoever. Him being a rageaholic, of course, is all MY fault.

I have forgiven him every shitty abusive assholic thing he’s ever said or done bcuz I’m not the same person; and i know he isn’t , ultimately we’re all just doing our best here. When he looks at me , he’s looking at a ghost. He’s seeing me when i am 25, or 30, or even last month. These people don’t exist. I learn from my mistakes. When you learn, you change, you’re not the same person.

This is SO ENTIRELY FUCKED UP. This isn’t ME ! THIS, this isn’t my LIFE! i hadn’t even had a full beer for fifteen years before Bill came back in June! I don’t associate with such white trash lunacy…I don’t know who I became this summer. I must’ve re-visited some Jerry Springer like past life redneck ho persona or something.

It’s so strange how you can be sucked into Hell when you are waking up. I’m not a fan, to be honest. This in-between bullshit is for the birds. Blissfully asleep was better, Christ my life was of better quality. Can’t go back —gotta push thru.. —

well i’ve more or less pulled myself out of the Ghetto. The Ghetto Summer on SSI..waddafah?!

what a rug pisser

Ok so just an update: it would appear that Wendy the person found the closest thing to “safe” or “Home” in Bill. The re-uniting of Us this summer and then the unexpected tearing apart of Us, led to extreme emotional suffering which now I can see was and is a necessary facing of the fact that Wendy HAS no Home. The only real Home is experienced by disidentification with Wendy as what I am. Wendy occurs of course WITHIN what I am and so there is no real loss there , but while identified as Wendy there is nothing BUT the threat of loss.

I’ve never in my life reacted so violently in refusal to accept WHAT IS as I did this summer and consequently early this Fall as Bill moved from me to someone else. In the past I didn’t take it as a threat but this time I’d emotionally re-invested, I’d pushed the Void away so forcefully, saying NO! and snuggling back into Bill’s familiar arms, where Life is explainable, has rules, and is being lived as a person.

But of course the pressure had to produce the diamond eventually. The letting go, the surrender , the relief. Not all at once but as is happening. Several surrenders followed by extreme contraction (such as fighting in the street in front of the cops) WHAT?!NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO I WON’T ALLOW I WON’T LET GO NO NO NO NO

exhausting. more exhausting than nihilism.

and then….a very quiet subtle untraceable “ok.”

ok i’m waking up. ok i’m alone. ok Bill can’t protect me from either of those. ok i don’t understand this. ok I can’t identify as Wendy AND be Home. ok Wendy has to die (for lack of a better term) ok this scares the shit out of me


ok that’s enough for today

Nothing changes

It’s been a while. Things are crazy.

Every untruth and bit of conditioning is rising up to be faced and I suppose surrendered to.

Also, every distraction like relationship, sex, job etc is being seen as empty and unfulfilling. Even old stuff that I haven’t dabbled with for fifteen years such as booze, the bar/club scene. Empty, sad, pathetic, dirty, lonely. Distraction.

The only peace I can find is to be thankful for my health and my kids and to let go to the idea that all I can do is love and try to make others happy. I can’t find any other meaning in this game; there is torturous inner pain when I try to claim something “out there” for myself in order to feel better “in here”.

I am alone but no more so that anyone or anything else. Doesn’t make the journey any easier but it’s what’s happening and fighting that is useless also.

Resistance is incredibly painful, is what I’m saying. And every single thing I’ve ever resisted in myself or my life is rising up one by one to be surrendered to. Not exactly fun, in fact excrutiatingly tiring; i am emotionally / mentally exhausted. Which simplifies things in a way.

You’re out of your element

is that feeling of “I” or “I am” or “I exist”, actually me, or something I am experiencing? If the most basic TRUTH that resonates to my core, the one thing I am sure of, and that is the feeling/sensation/vibration of “I AM”…if even THAT can be witnessed as AN EXPERIENCE..then wtf is experiencing it as secondary to self? there is no…anything. nobody home. and YET…here it is. Absolutely everything is an add-on, and yet here it is. the self is completely unknowable to the Me. the Me never wakes up. what is asking to wake up doesn’t wake up. what IS, wakes up FROM the asker. and, sometimes, goes back to sleep again, so to speak.

i quit smoking. 20 years, then just done. i’m on the patch. it sucks. i feel unfulfilled.
And i can see it was just the next step. sure, logically choosing Life. but, the next step evolutionarily speaking. It seems everything false is being subtracted. “Look, look at the hole I feel, now that i can’t smoke”. In my face, i can’t deny it. Smoking was distracting me from painful emptiness. But is the emptiness painful? How would I know unless I go into it fully? In the past, being “single” meant being empty, alone. I went into it fully. I see it’s not that. It’s the opposite. In the past, long long ago, being not-stoned meant empty. I went into that…not-high for many years, and it’s not painful and it’s not empty. Clingy abusive relationship is empty. I can’t live without you is empty. I gotta be high/drunk/smoke cigarettes is empty. It was an illusion.

walking into hell only to see you walked out of it. interesting shit.

I think it’s a Pomeranian

The brilliant thing about Now, is the Now is the one thing that can never be taken from you.

I tend to think it’s because I AM the Now.

Regardless it’s amazing to watch the Is-ness show itself via the personality.

when seeing all others as self, the need to protect any image or present any image fades away , why would one do that in one’s own company?

without the need to present an image , authenticity flows

I’m not anybody who’s speaking. Speaking is just happening, concepts are presented forth to others; and here I am, watching it in amazement. How could I have ever thought I was doing this?

the marmot in my tub, to use the parlance of our times

in my first post i recall saying i didn’t know if this blog was coming from the I AM or Wendy or what. that’s wrong. I knew. I was bullshitting myself. When I AM, I know it more than i know anything else. When i’m awake, I know it. When someone’s “awake”, so to speak, ok, it’s known. It’s known fully and completely. If you’re wondering if you’re (as they say on the spiritual street) “awake” or “asleep”, you’re asleep. Now, granted, we’re all awake,really, but we just don’t know it. We don’t know what we are, most of the time. It’s there, it’s obvious, but identity is attached to personhood. That’s “asleep”.

I just wanted to correct that earlier post. Radical honesty is Truth. Incl. being radically honest with oneself. I was just feeling like I wanted to share, but didn’t want to come off as “the teacher” or “the guru-wannabe”. That’s mostly why I haven’t written about this stuff before. When I’m spinning a story about Truth, I’m not living it. My awareness is in the story, which is dead, over, done. I don’t want to lay claims to knowing anything at all. In a nanosecond it could be proven false. Or the truth could deepen, rendering the earlier story moot. I also don’t want to attach in any way to an identity of “one who knows” People like that make me want to puke. Obviously I’m so in resistance to that idea bcos some part of “me” likes it. Tough shit, it’s all gotta go.