Why did I march in BLM?

As Chet and I began marching along side thousands of silent protesters yesterday, Friday June 12th 2020, here in Seattle, I asked myself one very important questions: Why am I marching?

Fake news is not to be trusted and there’s nothing better than being present and see first hand what’s really happening, historically, in America today. The march was mostly attended by white people, it was peaceful if you exclude some of the hateful signs and the rainy-cold weather was something I could handle. (Due to sound sensitivity the silence was why I could be there and the weather was another plus.) I felt healthy and strong enough to be there, but the other reasons I was there are explained in the sentences below.

There’s two sides to every coin.

Back in 1993, when I stepped foot for the first time on American soil as a legal alien with no rights to vote and an American husband by my side I saw for the second time in my life black people in real life (it was my first time for Asians, Mexicans, Indians and Samoans) and I marveled thinking: I can’t believe how imaginative God can be in his masterful work. I never, not for one second considered myself superior. In fact it may have been the opposite- the communistic propaganda learned over the years does not drop off you just because you stepped across another country’s border- for you see I was tolled by the system, mostly in school, that I was an inferior human being for two reasons: I was a woman and I was a christian. But I digress.

Since that day in 1993 I’ve had many black friends, mostly women, and I loved hanging out with them, seeing nothing but a human being on the other side of my conversation and friendship. I like to give my mother full credit for that. She raised us, the Damean kids, to believe that every human being is God’s child, created equally and equally important. (You see, back during communism times when I was only nine years old or so, my parents hid in our small apartment an African missionary. If caught by the communist party they would’ve faced jail or worse- be put to death. All their christian friends were too afraid to take the poor man in but not my mother. Not my mother! Who I believe to be the strongest human being I’ve even met. She not only took this wonderful man in, fed him and sheltered him, but along the years took many street children in, if only for a day, bathed them, fed them, and clothed them. Her heart always had room for those in need and she saw everyone as God’s children, some marginalized by society.) Thus I grew up, along my siblings, eating at the same table with those rejected by society be that an African man or the poor or the rejected children living on the street. My mother thought us that all people were God’s children and we should take care of them, not harm them. So you see one of the reason for marching it has to do with my upbringing and seeing other people (not color), suffer. I marched because I understand suffering.

Now, time passed since 1993 and about five years ago I was startled by a black man. (It was not his fault. I was suffering the neurological consequences Lyme disease and its complications brought in my life at the time. The poor man apologized deeply even thought he was not in the wrong.) That’s when I also realized for the first time that a part of me was also scared of him, part of that fear was associated with Lyme disease the other part was associated …with what exactly? What changed in me since 1993? I took time and pondered on this, sorting time and memories to find the answer. It came down to two culprits: media and a close American relative who on numerous occasions showed fear and spoke that fear out loud while I was around, warning me of hidden dangers I never thought about.

Loving and recognizing that all of humanity are God’s children created no fear in my heart, but suspicion and prejudice did. I was not aware of the American history on race until I came here and learned it. But the media fueled what once used to be and no longer needed to be repeated. Communism used media to control people’s minds and separate them. By separating us it’s easy to conquer us. So I marched because I refuse to allow the lying media separate us.

Since my future son-in-law is part black this hits even closer to home for us. He’s an extraordinary young man and I see thought his silent eyes some of the struggles he’s had to endure. I also hear loud and clear the grace and forgiveness his heart constantly bestows on those who wronged him. I see God in him, I see Jesus’s example in action. It’s very healing and so human. I marched in the thunderous silence for those wonderful human beings who lost their lives while innocent, or less perfect, because of expressed hatred.

While marching I thought of all those suffering from lyme disease or other horrible illness which leave them disabled and stuck in their bed or behind closed doors too fatigue or ill to march alongside me. I thought of you and your desire to come along if only the frail body would allow it. I like to think I represented you in that march.

Here comes the other side of the coin, the conflicting part within myself.

I do not believe in the politicized version of Black Life Matter movement, you know that part which expresses anger and hate by destroying other people’s hard earned livelihood.

I do not believe in police defunding. Why? They follow orders from higher up; it’s the politicians who give the orders of how the society should be run. If I believe in defunding anyone, and I do, I believe in defunding the crooked politicians with hidden agendas and their megaphone puppets we know as “media”. They are the ones that made me aware of racism, not God. (Here I don’t add the misguided people who speak in the name of God spreading hate meanwhile seriously disconnected from Jesus’s message. For Jesus did’t die on the cross for white, rich people that believe only a certain denomination is “the right one” he died for all, including those who hated him and didn’t believe in him.)

In conclusion, I’m not sure if I helped anyone by writing this blog, or if I’ve simply added to the pile of opinions out there irrelevant in some manner, but I do stand for one thing: All people (be them nice or not) were made in the image of God and all are his children and if every single one of us really believed that we would not have marches of any kind because we’d be too busy living peacefully among ourselves.

God help us see that.

Amen.

Seizure

 

 

I hope you get a chance to relax and enjoy this little video I shot and put together for you. Meditate on the things that matter to you, as I also do.

You see last week I had a nasty seizure which threw me back on my progress chart a few degrees, both physically and emotionally. It’s not easy to climb over thoughts such as “not again”, “will I ever”, “I just want to be” etc but giving up its not an option for me since I have too much to lose and would hurt too many people that I love. So I must go on. But getting back up, and moving forward while hurting, having half of my body not functioning as it should and wondering how long will it take until I fully recover is not as easy as you may think. I wish I could be poetic about all this but pain and struggle bring more misery than poetry (unless its some sort of emotional heartbreak and then you should see my muse dance and come up with all sorts of rimes and wisdom:) But for now I try not to fall on my face as I experience dizziness, I try not to walk into walls as my balance seems to be taking a vacation, and I try to smile through the pain all my limbs seemed to join in. I am weak and strong, frail and tough, happy and sad.

What caused such a relapse? Accumulation of stress (I like to collect:) Nasty flue which left a frail immune system exposed, taking up nursing duties as my family laid ill in their beds, work, and the happy visit of my cuz. But the body can’t recognize happy stress from bad stress, just files all that info in the “STRESS” file of my life while smiling knowing what’s to come. But I drove downtown! Took my cuz and my daughter to the Seattle Space Needle and other places and I’m sure inside my head there was a small voice protesting to all the exitement…which I clearly ignored. Did I learn my lesson? Depends on which side of the lesson you are. I would say, yes, then explain. I’ve learned that I have the strength to drive downtown (even if for a day every few months:) I’ve learned that my body is getting strong and able to handle more fun, I learned that relapses do happen and not to focus on them, I learned I’m fun again! Even if in a small increment at the time:) Did I learn my lesson? You be the judge, but I no matter what you decide I smile the whole way because I DROVE DOWNTOWN SEATTLE AND HAD FUN WITH MY CUZ AND DAUGHTER ON TOP OF THE SPACE NEEDLE, and that to me is priceless and worth every muscle twitch and pain;) I would do it all over again the same way, no regrets. Now go have a good time living life in whichever increments of strength you can muster, and when herxing (for my Lyme warriors or all with any autoimmune troubles:) smile because you got to the herxing reaction by living life and in the end you had a say, a choice, not the stupid illness that’s trying to kill us:)

God Bless:)

Snowpocalypse in Seattle:)

It’s about to start:)))) Alberstons in Magnolia was running out of eggs yesterday, and New Seasons in Ballard was full last night. Thousands of dollars were spent yesterday and I’m sure today is a similar scenario. The school is going to close 75 minutes earlier and since we live on a hill, a shady hill still hosting slippery and snowy patches, Chet’s planning to come home early… if it gets bad out there that is. Thus we prepared. If the weather suddenly decides to remain sunny, warm and void of snow, we’re set with food for the upcoming six months:)))) I think it’s hilarious how much agitation is around the snow but it wasn’t funny when I was running out of certain foods the first time it snowed. My daughter is out driving, on her way home and texted us that’s chaos out here already, a stop and go traffic in Magnolia at the Fisherman’s terminal. The construction workers just stopped working and are leaving. I heard them out there laughing about not wanting to get stuck for the whole weekend here:)

I will most likely get cabin fever soon so I’ll have lots of time to write blogs these coming days, cooped up in here. Baking and writing¬† I guess:))))))

God Bless:)

Quincy

Tonight while watching the Netflix Original documentary, Quincy, I found out something interesting I never knew about Chet. While living with Grandpa Charlie in Skyway, Seattle, he met and formed a friendship with Quincy Jones’ mother Sarah Wells Jones.

During an intermission of the Bill Gothard Christian Conference called “Insitute in Basic Life Principles” in 1988 at the Seattle Center, most likely at the Key Arena, while reading his Bible outside on a bench a thin lady sat down next to him and soon a conversation began, mostly about the Bible and God, creating an instant bond between the two. Soon after, Chet began visiting her small apartment downtown where she watched a small boy and girl most days. He remembers the good humor they shared while spending time together despite the age difference and the odd homeless look she seemed to have about her. He also noticed that something was a little off with her at times.

In their conversations, the name of Quincy Jones and his brother Lloyd came up and that’s when Chet realized the connection and wondered why would the mother of Quincy Jones live in such a small run-down apartment, knowing absolutely nothing of the personal history between the two. Sarah Jones seemed to be more proud of Lloyd and his important job at the Komo TV station, mentioning him often in the conversation, while hardly mentioning Quincy.

The relationship lasted about six months while Chet moved on to other things in his life and even though their friendship was short-lived, throughout the years he still thinks about her fondly.

Well, I learn surprising new things every day:)

God Bless:)

Before the wind touches the soul

I’ve picked up a new habit, electric skateboarding…sitting style:)

I’ve never skateboarded in my life, however, that recently has changed after trying out Chet’s electric skateboard. Then I’ve ordered mine:)

Usually, I experience fear before getting on the board and if I did let my mind run wild I could easily talk myself out of a potential fun time. The imaginary bad scenarios can be scary:) So I stop the doubt. I have to find my spot on the board just so, one mm off and I get the wobbles and have a hard time turning. I feel the board for a few seconds making sure we’re in agreement. Then I start and as it slightly jerks me forward my stomach tightness and fear wants to have the final word.

These seconds or minutes before every single ride are the hardest; the body works hard in convincing me that laying comfortably on a couch and away from any potential harm is a better idea. But before the wind touches the soul it must touch my face first and for that to happen I must ride. So I do and few seconds in I feel a deep sense of freedom and joy hard to explain. I feel light and no longer burdened. I simply savor the moment of pure bliss.

In life many times we find ourselves in similar situations. The fears of what ifs can intimidate us into complacency and away from joyful moments. It can keep us in the fear zone (which in reality is infinitely smaller than the fun we can have afterward) and prevent us from building another beautiful memory worth preserving.

Pass through the fears of the moment so you can let the wind of joy touch your soul.

The video shows my mother-in-law, Janet, on her electric bike and me on the electric skateboard. Chet’s videotaping:)

P.S. I am impressed by my mother-in-law who battled and won against cancer, and to see her out and about living life is wonderful:)

God Bless:)

http://www.wowgoboard.com

We’ve moved.

Sunday we’ve moved and all four of us have been “dancing” between boxes the past two days and it will go like this for a good while. It’s both frustrating and hilarious as we’re trying to find our day to day essentials to live and have to make due with what we find:) Our bodies feel like ground-meat, and we moan and groan quite often. But we’re happy:) Alex set his room up the same day we moved in, that’s how exited he was to have his own space again. Magnolia is a new place to me, hardly familiar, but what I’ve seen so far I love. You can drive from one end to another in 10 minutes and today I drove to Ace Hardware, located six minutes away. It’s a quiet area with a slow paced life and I love that, for now at least. I hope I’m not going to get bored the minute all the un-packing is done. It reminds me of Federal Way, where we used to live but more quaint. I’m doing well, even if very tired. I found a new product that helps me tremendously, called NeuroCalm by Designs for Health. This product helps me keep calm. In fact after 10 minutes of the first intake I felt my muscles and neurological part began to relax and kept me relaxed most of the day without some weird side-effects or grogginess. As you may remember, some of my tests came back showing a deregulation in the neurotransmitters (body can’t seem to make them, and burns way to fast the existing ones), and along with my recent Lyme and co-infections treatment I wrote about in my last post, I believe, this product helps me tremendously.

The past four years of treatment and testing showed me a pattern, a pattern in findings with a main nucleons; weak autoimmune system. This weakening had been caused over the years and by a couple main issues; 1. too much toxicity in the body/tissues like black mold, mercury, fungi and other toxins, 2. lack of neurotransmitters (80% live in the gut) which is directly linked to neaurological issues, and third, gut issues (not enough good bacteria in the gut and an overload of bad bacteria). All these have been proved as major contributors to a weakened (collapsed, in my case) immune system that brought me dangerously close to an early death. I would also add another factor, a toxic soul/emotional self.

So my advise to everyone our there is this; take care of your gut, make sure you have lots of good bacteria growing in there and detox (do it smartly otherwise you could harm yourself), forgive and decide being a happy person is more important than being right and by doing these things you’ll strengthen your immune system. Strong immune system means no disease.

My unpacking break is coming to an end, so I wish you a good day and a Happy Thanksgiving:)

The ingredients in the NeuroCalm are:B-6, B-12, Magnezium, Inositol, Taurine, Chamomile, Gamma-aminobutryic, L-Theanine, 5-HTP, Phosphatidylserine. I was prescribed separately almost all of these ingredients after test rezults showed lack in these areas.

God Bless:)

Disappointment

When I came to America, twenty something years ago, I learned quickly a few things. Although I was aware of certain corruptions, the day to day business was done in a fair way, by regular folks that took pride in their work or hoped to get ahead providing great service. To a certain degree, that’s still happening but the crumbs of destruction are more visible- like the appliance delivery service, who turned from sad to down right pathetic.

Since Trump vs Hillary fiasco, America is shown it’s real colors and the people “came out of their closets”. Such hateful organizations or religious movements as: The Nazi party, Antifa, White Supremacy- and the list gets too long to bother- were not born right after Trump became president. These beliefs, because that’s what they really are, existed long before Trump became president, lurking in the background, some of them behind nice facades, but just as dangerous and diseased at the core. When sweet old ladies start talking about assassinating a certain president with such hatred you don’t seem to recognize them any longer, I loose a certain amount of trust towards them. Such hatred. It seems most people -around where I live, at least- favor one party above the other, which is to be expected for this area. But there is no tolerance against the one who may differ in opinion and that’s dangerous. Same goes for any adverse political parties. This is not a blog about one party is better than the other, but I can tell you one thing for sure, from my perspective: the party that thought themselves bright, tolerant and so very loving are far from that.

I used to have a sense of pride being part American, but lately…I’m only saddened. It’s sad to see how everyone’s exposing their garbage, proudly. Trump had it’s own pile of garbage before he became president, so did Hilary, and so do I, and so do you. What happened to focusing on our higher calling?

Seeing today’s clearly biased referee calls against Seahawks, was frustrating. How can one team be okay winning or loosing under such shady penalty calls? Let one win or loose on their honest efforts.

There once was a dream and people had a vision. Let’s dream again.

God Bless:)