Tuesday, September 11th, 2007
"The Only Thing To Fear Is Fear Itself"
Kaelin finishes licking a self prepared bowl of late-night Maka, Cocoa, Cranberries and Cinnamon. My Son returned to his healthy and healing 100% raw lifestyle after 8 months of being forced to endure daily abuses of Burger King ( sorry for the free publicity ), after being taken by MCFD, to live with a couple of gay carnivores, in a foster home filled with hyperactive young males and home fried processed food. The white-heads have almost disappeared from my blissed out boy's flawless skin, proving his lymphatic system system in back in fine working order. Of course, he has already dropped the unneeded 10 pounds of fat, no longer to be unlovingly found on his long, slim, lean frame. Even his eyes are sitting in their proper position, after being given adequate rest, water and a loving, peaceful environment, within which to flourish. Not to mention, never to return to those PG rated 13+ schlock horror films, which he routinely was permitted to watch, from morning till evening. After all, who would want to pass a growing soul some wonderful reading material or a piece of mind-bending clay? Nah. Creative independence is still too scary a nameless thing to be allowed to run rampant and amuck in this society.
It was mid July of 2005 that Kaelin was returned to his mourning Mother. We were allowed to visit for 2 hours, 2-3x a week, with a couple of " supervisors in attendance, at all times. Especially after I found the bruises, cuts, and pinch marks on his back. Good thing I documented the atrocious findings. Of course, we have been sitting on all of this evidence for over 2 years. Now, it is time to speak up. Especially since my 11 year old Son and I have been holding back all this pent-up hurt, pain and rage, that we are undeniably allowed to feel. Must by why I was so proud of my ever conscious being, when he decided to up-load some of our unique little home video's. Of course, someone complained. What else is new? During last weeks latest meeting with the ministry, I asked "What if you receive a few positive testimonials?" Of course, as I had already ascertained, followers of faulty laws are not interested in positive news from good Samaritans. Malicious, anonymous callers, only, please!
Tomorrow, I phone my family doctor, who eats white bread with canned mercury filled tuna, alongside a glass of far from fresh cartoned, mistreated cows milk, for lunch. Most ill-served patients visit their friendly doctor for another vial of life depleting pills. I shall most unwillingly make an appointment to have a mandatory check-up by a trusted and close enough to revered member of the community. Since I have no rabbi or vet, guess this shall have to do. My happy home learner will be evaluated by a man as close to God as they get! An out of date chart shall be pulled out, to measure one quickly growing, soccer playing son's height and weight. Of course, we do not follow the prescribed Canada Food Guide or follow the recommended FDA requirements, which feeds the mass mind hypnotic hyperbole and 'beefed' up belief systems, of the ignorant many, to sell more meat, dairy and grains. Gotta feed those million dollar industry's! Suppose the freshly plucked apples and filling Manitoba hemp won't count. Well, wait until we film our next home-grown video's ....
Since money and Wonder Bread does surely grow on trees (those left standing), canned fruit is served in Summertime, frozen veggies reign supreme, macaroni 'n cheese is 'good carbs' and "protein", and peanut butter laced with poison chemicals and even more deadly white sugar, is the typical SAD diet, I am certain our living food lifestyle is 'right on track' with the muddled thinking of a system that does not 'work'. A couple of years ago, I heard that a whole, whopping, sane and sensible 2% of the world population was raw. I am sure the statistics have since risen, like a pure raindrop in a muddy pond. Yet, I never had much fun attempting to fit in. Without trying, my natural child and I have unwittingly joined the lower ranks of the "sub-culture" (this is what my legal aid lawyer claimed). Better to be a lesbian living on Davie Street, hooked up to a free government financed injection site and citing some past or present alcohol or drug addictions, in order to gain sympathy, support and financial aid. Holy Goddess! Has this heterosexual single Mom ever messed up her loving, luscious life. Fortunately, I have never been afraid to be a precious part of the higher 3% of the population that actually use their minds for something better and more beautiful than to make a mess of other peoples lives.
After receiving an email from an 'old friend' and of course, 'young thinker', from my grad class of 78, citing " You are sure out there", I figure this is merely one more less than caustic cue to pull up my short shorts, catch up with my former stride and keep my keen eyed future looking me straight into the third eye. Reminding me, "Balance those sexy chakras, baby K. Your time is coming. Get ready ... Prepare yourself for every worldly success. You are long overdue!" I am listening to my inner voice and brightly being told: "Answer their questions and those who judge and/or afraid to ask, tell them ... because you choose to". For whatever I do, there will always be someone, a deposition, an advisory committee, a police force, or the ministry of children of families ( no capitals, please ), attempting to clamp a restraining order on my freedom of rights. Remembering I am my own spiritual guide and the one and only expert chosen to raise my beloved boy in this already short lifetime. No more slowdowns, distractions, disturbances, or even untimely deaths shall keep magical me from my desired destiny. I have no fate for others to destroy or master-mind. I am mistress of my own ceremonies and these kale fortified, calcium rich bones, have no doubts that this heaven is mine to walk.
I let our cantaloupe eating cat out for the night. After devouring a very large spider as a midnight snack, Tiger leaves via the back door, to enter fearlessly into the cool, fresh air of one more starry sky of a Goddess-sent night. I sweep the kitchen floor with my tongue, in hope of catching the last morsel of pure Amazon chocolate from a soon to be graveyard. The garbage is out and our dishes are washed. Cobwebs climb up my pretty walls as I watch a visiting moth catch the light with her dusted wings. Satisfied I am finally safe to touch the keys of my computer and press out not always the prettiest thoughts that enter my mind, I enter into another dimension. Discarding all pretense, feeling the truth well up inside of me, I hold my arms open to my blessed Son who shines in the shadows of one more day, well spent and gratefully received. Knowing my power is in full force, I smile into the the face of a delicious new morn, hugging my blessed "inner child on the outside". An untarnished mirror is forever there to look upon. All we have to do is raise our heads, pull back our shoulders and gaze, in newfound awe, into our own luscious light!
P.S. One purring pussy has returned ... We turned on the back porch light, after a family of raccoons threatened to make a snack out of the furriest member of our ever growing family. Whew! Saved again. It always helps to remain aware. Some of those beasts just lay in wait until it is time to leap. Quick thinking and a slow heartbeat will get you everywhere you nee to be!