It’s been a while since we talked

D516A709-B2B0-4A0F-8052-D12A5AB364E9What a great summer this one was for us:) The apartment construction work is almost done. I had the most wonderful and unexpected visit for Easter from two of my brothers: Sergiu came from Germany and Flesh came from Romania. IMG_0666They took me completely by surprise:) We had a great time showing them Seattle, among other things and after they left and the weather warmed up, Chet and I spent many hours cycling on bike trails with my in-laws:) IMG_8327I also took lots of macro photos, a hobby of mine, and you can see one such photos at the very top (honey bee on a clover:)

I’m getting stronger every day. I have changed my Lyme tincture treatment to a new product and so far I think it helped me the most (or I’ve had lots of help from previous treatments and this one sort of sealed it). It’s a new product I found on Amazon called Holistic Tincture 7, made in Germany. It’s a 13 Herb tincture (Japanese Knotwood herbage, Teasel root, Cats Claw flower, Coriander herbage, Garlic, Hawthorn leave, Sarsaparilla root, Devil’s Claw root, Boneset leave, Astragalus root, Olive Leaves, Panax Ginseng root, Ginkgo leave) specifically design for those suffering from Lyme. Currently unavailable on Amazon as of today, but you can go directly on their website at http://www.biotraxx.eu to order. Heads up their info is in german (Amazon has an English version), and you need to take 20 drops three times a day for 6 months. One bottle lasts about 2.5 weeks. IMG_0265.jpeg

It really helped me so I hope it does the same for you:) (The cost is around $28 per bottle plus shipping $7).

This year we’ve celebrated our 26th Wedding anniversary:)B26CB92F-1A70-4DC3-9F93-62BD8A5CC31E

I’m grateful and I’m looking forward to the wonderful things to come in this life:) So keep on fighting for those ones not yet on the other side because there’s hope:)

Here are a few more pictures I like sharing with you:)

Have a blessed day and talk to you soon:)

There is no discrimination, in suffering

At one point in our lives, we’ll experience pain in some form. When the pain is so unbearable that the only prayer coming out of our lips is “Help me, God!” don’t stress over the fact that it’s not lengthy or theologically rich. In those moments the very help we receive is God himself in the person of the Holy Spirit. This presence can be through a particular person, thought of hope or strength, a book someone was inspired to write just so you can find courage through reading it, etc.  Here’s one of my own experience during one of such unbearable painful moments in the past.

Quote from my future novel.

“Laying in bed was the new activity I reluctantly had to accept, chained down by the mystery of unbearable pain. This pain brought along a certain amount of fear at times. But then there was a level of pain I’ve achieved where nothing but silence reigned, no questions, no reasoning, no fear, only silence. It’s in this horizontal position with a face washed by tears that I saw my bed expend quickly suddenly holding millions upon millions of broken diseased infested (physically or emotionally) humans. Their faces also washed in tears, millions upon millions of tears. People of all ages, from every nation, both genders and from all sorts of belief backgrounds. Holy Ghost in the shape of motherly presents sat, tears in her eyes, next to me ever so gently wiping my brow. I found temporary relief every time she did that and I was very grateful. I was not mad, angry, demanding answers or asking questions, because I saw how much God cared for me and her presence by my side day and night was constant. I don’t feel alone. She didn’t have to say one word for I understood every emotion or thought she exchanged with me. In her eyes, I saw how she mourned every single one of us, not just me, and on the bed of suffering, there wasn’t discrimination. It was equally devastating for her to see our suffering. Her heart was wounded and her face was burdened by our collective suffering, an emotion she felt far deeper than we’ll ever understand. Silent, loyal and everpresent by the side of suffering and pain she sat and wiped our sorrows softly.

I had no strength to finish a fragmented prayer I began, but she did it for me by looking deeply into my soul through my eyes and uttering the most intense pleading prayer without as much as parting her lips. But I could hear it. I didn’t understand the strange language full of color and sounds no human being will ever understand or utter. But I knew this was Trinity’s language and I only heard it from the outside, but there was an inner depth I could not hear or see but somehow know it was there. The language was meant for them that much I understand, on behalf of us, their children, whom at one point or another chose to divide among themselves driven by fear and hate. Our choice. Not theirs. A set of chains called “human will” were wrapped around her hands. Every hateful act against one another added more tears and pain to the bed of suffering which began to groan with a fresh wave of pain affecting all of us and her. I looked into her eyes but she didn’t hate us for hurting her. She loved us. Because we were her children.”

I felt the need to add this fragment now before the book is being done (maybe in a couple of years), because some of us may need to read this today.

God Bless:)

Living Proof-MS Hope

http://www.mshope.com/

https://www.seelivingproof.com/

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt6604174/

I’ve watched this documentary a couple of days ago while in sickation (sick vacation) on MS, knowing people who struggle with this disease, and I strongly recommended to all MS patients out in the world.

About a month ago, unbeknownst to me I began eating a vegan product (fake bacon) and loving it. I would make sandwiches with it and top it with pepperoncini, lettuce, cucumbers, and vegan cheese and smile all the way to the last bite. Then I began feeling some of the old symptoms creeping up, symptoms such as severe fatigue, foggy memory, walking into things, nausea, fever, dropping things all the time, to name a few. Relapse or Lyme-flare was my diagnosis and began treatment right away. It would work until it wouldn’t. I upped the dose and went around the same circle. I would get better only to get worse. What in the world was happening? My joints hurt so bad, especially my hips, I was having a very hard time walking. Meanwhile, I was happily eating my vegan bacon sandwiches. About one week ago, as I was getting ready to make yet another sandwich Chet read the ingredients, for his own reasons, and exclaimed.

“Carmen, did you know this bacon has gluten? Sugar, water and gluten in concentrated form?” My brain was too foggy to process the info I was just receiving and it took me a good while before the truth absorbed between the smoky creases of my brain and into the information center where it could be processed before a response was delivered.

“What?”

“You’ve been on a gluten feast for a month!” He exclaimed in response as we both began laughing. Such privilege yet no recognition.

Well, my vegan sandwich days came to an abrupt halt. It will take a good while until this intake of gluten will be out of my system, meanwhile, I learned a few more lessons.

  1. I’ll stick to real bacon and leave the vegan diet for Chet (who’s been a vegan for the past two years now).
  2. This gluten intolerance issue is not in my head, it’s not a mental/emotional issue I came up with and just need to snap out of it, it’s real and there’s a reason why. This second point goes along with some of the information in the Living Proof MS hope documentary done by Matt Embry who was diagnosed with MS about twenty years back and fights it different ways but mostly through diet, exercise and supplements like Vit. D. Diet is the evil of most diseases and the medicine for all cures.
  3. Read and inform yourself well, without assuming, like I did, that a vegan product automatically means a gluten-free product.
  4. I balanced back quite fast once I stopped the gluten, which tells me my body and mind are serious about getting better:)))) But, I got the flue, along with every single member of my family except Alex. They’ve been in bed for a whole week before showing any signs of life. Today is Chet’s first day back to work after an entire week spent on a horizontal sickation.
  5. Grateful. There’s always a solution for every problem, just read the fine print:)
  6. P.S The words look a little funny to me so any grammatical or expressive mistakes are due to my gluten feast. God Bless:)

The Spandex Curse

Sunday morning, needing to breathe some fresh air, I stopped at a tiny coffee shop here in Magnolia where they make my favorite decaf latte with almond milk drink.

The coffee shop, located in a deserted looking minuscule strip mall, has a male barista and a barbershop feel. Beside the male barista, a man in his 40s or 50s, two other gentlemen were occupying the small space, one on a stool to my left and another paying for his order.  All three laughing. The laughter and under the breath later on giggles were coming and going like a tidal wave and I smiled, happy to see them having a good time. I ordered my coffee, paid and waited. Picking his own coffee the man by the registered left for few seconds then returned, taking a seat on a stool next to the other, all three still giggling. One of them kindly let me in on the humorous secret.

“He just got caught staring at a guy in spandex.” Another wave of laughter.

“You wonder sometimes if people look in the mirror before they leave their house and think: sure, I look alright!” The other one, who got caught staring, now facing the wall, head bowed low and away from me, as if ashamed by his misfortune, spoke.

‘He’s still recovering.” The first man clarified to me, while everyone else kept laughing, me among them. The victim turned around and continued.

“And he was not in good shape…more laughter…I mean he was fat…in spandex.” The poor guy still looked terrified but what he’d witnessed that day and we joined him in laughter.

“I’ve had few such recoveries myself,” I replied, now holding my coffee.

“Have a good day.” I wished them still giggling and left them behind to their recovery ward and medicine. I love the way men talk. Simple, to the point and always with a touch of humor.

Have a great day:)

God Bless:)

Homelessness of the heart

The heart, fatigued and aging, is always on a journey. She starts full of such light but her innocence has been beaten out by shrewd beasts pretending to be her friends. Promises were made to her only to be broken, and the pattern repeated enough times that she hardened and no longer ventures out to the pastures. For a time sheer anger filled her every corner, as a result, she only lashed out. At other times she received kindness and a soft caress and she melted within and without. She loved back and gave herself gladly for it was worth it, but despite the good life and love, she knew someone was missing. Most everyone else called it something, but to her, it was someone. This, someone, was hard to understand or see, its presence was only felt when she took the time, but most days she was busy giving. She often finds herself homeless, even if for a short period of time, or longer. It’s the rejection that builds the lines of sadness and its the acceptance that builds the wrinkles of life, but despite it all, this someone is who she really longs for, a presence beyond her wisdom and time, someone she heard of from so many voices but there’s still a verdict out for what she really thinks of this someone, yet, it’s the someone she longs for because only that someone understands her potential. At times, the heart rests, fully content within her existence, she wants nothing, she needs nothing, she just is. And that someone is always close by in such moments, so she rests and listens. Maybe today she’ll finally meet someone. If not, she’s still happy, even if tired. -Carmen McKnight

The bubble, or the marshmallow as Chet calls it, is getting to us all. The claustrophobia, the lack of fresh air and the stuffiness are not elements a human being was created to thrive in. This environment is digging out of me an issue still unresolved.

This struggle has been unbeknown to me until earlier this year when my heart divulged, as a result of prayers and contemplation, what’s been hidden very deep within the layers of the soal and once exposed the tear glands shed years of struggled emotions. I’ve felt homeless within my own home and heart for many years. As a result, I’ve operated out of an orphaned spirit for years. While young, I had the strength to pretend otherwise. Age brings a whole lot out of the canister.

Let me explain.

I was told, while young and growing, that the home in which I lived was not mine and I could be kicked out anytime I stepped out of line. Now please remember this, I have forgiven my father, there are some old wounds that still need healing but all in all a lot has been healed already and life is good.

When a child grows up with the notion that there is no place in this world for them a complex called the orphan’s heart sets in and with time builds strong roots. When a heart does not have a home, as I suspect most people feel that, it always stays busy searching. That’s actually good.  Searching means moving and movement is life and life-giving and one day the answer or part of the answer will reach those who search. It was the man, in its weakness that hurt us and it’s man in its strength that helps us heal. God built both of these men from the ground up, man chose, consequences followed. So what was once torn down it can be built up twice as strong.

Thanksgiving is a holiday celebrated in the heart of a home, as it should be. But some may feel like you’re intruding like you’re a foreigner like you don’t belong. But we always belong, maybe not in that home, but there is always a home for everyone.

As I’m walking my road towards growth I keep on asking myself which wolf will it win? Lie or Truth? The answer is The one I feed.  

There is nothing weird about a struggle, it simply means we’re all human beings and the growth process within has not ended yet.

Gob Bless:)

 

P.S When happy, I don’t feel the need to write blogs. It’s as if those moments of happiness are so personal writing about them would only taint and diminish their value. But hardships and trials trigger my creative juices so much that I begin a downloading process of imaginative and heartfelt moments who, by some odd impulse, I need to share. I’m sharing this with you when I’d rather keep it private. Weird.

 

 

 

Our family just got bigger:) Familia sa largit:)

Meet Dorothea Damian, born August 27th in London to parents Iulian and Cornelia:) She’s the 19th grandchild to my parents, Lydia and Ilie Damian and the first child for Cornelia and Iuli:) Cutie pie:)

Bine ai venit Dorothea Damean, nascuta August 12, 2018 in Londra:) Parintii Iulian si Cornelia sunt plini de bucurie si noi alaturi de ei:)

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Meet Sofia Damian, born today in Portugal to parents Alex and Mia:) She just rounded the number of grandchildren to 20th:) Sofia is Alex and Mia’s first child and a cutie:)

Bine ai venit Sofia Damean, nascuta azi, Octombrie 16, 2018, in Portugalia:) Parintii Alex si Mia sunt in culmea fericirii si noi printre ei:)

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Greetings and love from the Damean family from London:) Missing in the picture are Cornelia, Carmen and Chet, Alex and Mia, Tibi and Nicol, Oana and Alex and children Merrill, Meleah, Alex, Dennis, Sarah and Rebecah (the twins:), Sofia, Iosua, Ionatan, Hadasa and Dorothea.

Salutari calduroase din partea familiei Damean, din Londra:) Lipseste din fotografie Cornelia, Carmen si Chet, Alex si Mia, Tibi si Nicol, Oana si Alex, si copii Merrill, Meleah, Alex, Dennis, Sara si Rebeca (gemenele:), Sofia, Iosua, Ionatan, Hadasa si Dorothea.

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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