I'll be honest, I did not know what the heck probiotics were before I started school. Now I find them to be one of the most fascinating topics. Most people understand the concept of "good bacteria" and "bad bacteria". Well probiotics, are the "good guys". I say "guys" on purpose because you must think of them as living beings. Much of our digestive issues are caused by too many of the bad guys taking over our digestive tract. Antibiotics are used to help fight illnesses caused by these bad guys but the problem is that it also kills the good guys. Taking probiotics regularly and even more importantly, after the use of antibitotics, helps to replenish the good bacterial growth.
Probiotics have many roles in our body. They offer vital help with physiological processes from digestion to growth to self-defense. There has been a rise of modern diseases such as obesity and autoimmune disorders which can very well be linked to not having enough of the good guys inside of us. Specifically, 2 species play a very large role in our digestion and regulation of appetite. Bacterial cultures living in our GI tract help to break down complex cards and absorb nutrients.
We all have an individual and unique "microbiome" which is a community of microbial cells and the genes they contain. In other words, inside of us lives a colony of living organisms. In a European study it was founded that there are 3.3 million microbial genes found in the gut from more than 1000 species. That is 150 times the 20,000-2500 genes in the human genome. Our individual fates, health and even actions may have more to do with the genes found in the microbiome than what is in our own DNA.
When I imagine this microbiome I think of a specific Simpsons episode: Treehouse of Horror VII "The Genesis Tub". Lisa has a tooth that she puts into a petri dish and in time a whole community grows out of it and becomes a very complex world. Bart comes in and makes the environment hostile and thus wreaks havoc on the little people. I relate this to the environment inside all of us. We must create a positive environment so that we don't make the good guys angry and help the bad guys to multiply. It is like we are the Earth and the bacteria are the humans. They can kill us by adding to the demise of our over all health or help us to thrive by teaming up with our immune system and our digestive tract for optimal health.
Fermenting foods is a great way to get additional probiotics inside us. Something that used to be so common and was a way for our ancestors to make foods last longer. I made my very first batch of sourkrout the other week and I do believe my Baba would be very proud!
On my first day of Fundamentals Class, the teacher informed us that fragrance is the number one pollutant in the environment today. That came as a surprise to me considering of all the heavy smoke I see leaving car exhausts and factory smoke stacks. However, it made sense the more I thought about it. I can barely walk past a perfume section in a mall without my eyes burning and my chest tightening. Perfume is a volatile and offensive smell to me, but for so many others it is loved and revered as desirable.
Fragrance on an ingredient list can indicate the presence of up to 4000 chemicals. That does not exactly give one a good indication of what ingredients are in it. David Suzuki states that, “of the thousands of chemicals used in fragrances, most have not been tested for toxicity, alone or in combination. Many of these unlisted ingredients are irritants and can trigger allergies, migraines, and asthma symptoms.” This article goes on to state that “in laboratory experiments, individual fragrance ingredients have been associated with cancer and neurotoxicity among other adverse health effects.” I must speculate why it is so widely used in products that do not even require it. It shows up in the ingredient list for blush, moisturizer, and make-up removing lotion. Phthalate (DEP), which is often found in fragrance to help the scent linger, has been labeled as a “Category 1 priority substance, based on evidence that it interferes with hormone function” by the European Commission on Endocrine Disruption. Furthermore, “Phthalates have been linked to early puberty in girls, reduced sperm count in men, and reproductive defects in the developing male fetus (when the mother is exposed during pregnancy). Phthalate metabolites are also associated with obesity and insulin resistance in men.” Health Canada has recently banned phthalate in children’s toys; however it is still allowable in cosmetics. The Environmental Working Group rates fragrance to be quite high on the overall health hazards of the ingredient. It causes irritation to eyes, skin and lungs. Fragrance is also a “known human immune system toxicant or allergen.” Fragrance poses as a toxic threat to the environment and to wild life.
There is a loophole in the label “fragrance” that manufacturers use to keep their secret recipes from being exposed. The Campaign for Safe Cosmetics got together with Environmental Working Group and tested seventeen different fragrance products and found fourteen secret chemicals not listed in the labels due to this loophole. Ten of these chemicals are linked to allergic reactions such as asthma, wheezing and contact dermatitis. Four hormone disrupting chemicals were found that are linked to a range of problems including sperm damage, thyroid disruption and cancer. The main concern is that fragrance is so hidden in these ingredient lists that people do not even consider that these unknown chemicals are being absorbed through their skin.
It's funny when you think about it, where did we even ever get the idea that we have to bathe in chemicals to smell good? Somewhere (probably around the 1950's during the creation of heavy consumerism) someone made an advertisement that told you to try their product. They got celebs to join in and sold a lifestyle. They use the cheapest ingredients and ask for a hefty price. That price is not just monetary, but it is doing damage to your body as well.
The way I see it, fragrance is a mask. If you have a smelly body odour problem, masking it with heavy fragrances, from soaps to room deodorizers, does not actually fix the problem. When I smell heavy perfumes on people I have to wonder, what are they hiding beneath that fake aroma?
Solution:
We are what we eat. Often if we are eating processed and unnatural foods that will contribute to the awful smell that's coming out of us. A diet in wholesome and real foods can surely help. Can you image the odour of someone who eats burger king everyday compared to someone who eats fresh salads and organic meats?
Fragrances are meant to mimic REAL life smells. Like flowers and fruits. You can get essential oils of your favourite smells and use these sparingly instead. Plus, oils are even cheaper compared to these over priced bottles you buy at shopper's the day before Christmas. I also sometimes like to rub flowers and herbs from the garden on myself. Natural and lovely.
Bathing regularly is key. If I don't feel the freshest, there is nothing greater than I nice hot shower with my favourite all natural goats milk soap.
My mom sprayed the bathroom with febreeze awhile back and I immediately started coughing and choking. Now she puts cinnamon in a little pot with some water, heats it on low heat on the stove and it freshens up the whole house.
We complicate life too much sometimes. I think it's time to start taking a few steps back and questioning why it is that we do what we do in this society and if it is worth the price to pay at the end.
The long awaited Christmas Break is approaching, less than 2 weeks away. I will say this proudly, I deserve a break. A break from responsibility and studying. My brain has just about reached it's full point, I am not sure how much more information I can get in there. I've been in school since September. I treat school like a full time job of a workaholic. I have learned more in these last few months than I have learned in the last 10 years. I am surprised at how well my grades are, it emphasizes to me that I am on the right path. You get back what you put in. I am really looking forward to being able to update this blog on all the new and exciting things that I think are worth sharing.
What I am learning is very serious stuff relating to not only health but the environment too. It has put me in a very different head space. It is like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. There is this constant whirlwind of factual information and enlightening mysteries enveloping my every thought and action. There is no where to go but up from here. Education is Empowering.
With each and every new bit of vital facts that I learn I want to shake people and move them into a direction that will make themselves healthier and happier. It does not work that way. People will learn at their own pace. Those that seek it will find it.
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way."
~ Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
I got blessed with being handed the best and most important job of my life a few months ago. I also got faced with the most unusual and confusing family emergency at the same time. For both instances I could not say, "why me?" No, I know way better than to ask such a silly question. I must ask, "why not me?" I accepted the job with enthusiasm and excitement, fully aware of the responsibilities involved, or so I thought. It had never occurred to me that someone so close to me could become ill and that I could not ask for a leave of absence to help out. The moral dilemma that springs forth when you feel helpless. Giving up is not an option. Running away is not ok.
I'd been very busy working away at the theater all summer, a job I have been yearning to obtain for years. It has been a godsend for me. I am learning the skills that I have always wanted to learn more about, especially carpentry and painting. I have made amazing bonds with the friends that I work with, bonds that last forever. I have gotten such amazing feedback to uplift my spirits and self esteem, helping to reiterate to myself that I am worthy of the job. When my boss walked into the shop one day and looked to me like he was about to deliver terrible news, he said "Hey Trish, ummmm, I have some news, we need you to work behind the scenes on 39 Steps." I was thrilled! I told everyone that walked by, "hey did you hear the news?" I think my friends sometimes think i'm on double rainbow pills... Apparently it was going to be a shit tonne of work and a crazy schedule. As more duties got laid on my shoulders, the happier and more useful I felt! THIS was going to be the time of my life.
Simultaneously, I get a late night/early morning text from my brother telling my that my parents house flooded, way worst than the last time. I wake up, 8am and immediately call home. My mother picks up and tells me all about the storm. I was in shock. I am living an hour and a half a way and we did not even get a mere drop of rain. I get to work and my friend showed me the footage on his phone. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My neighbourhood got especially damaged as we live in a valley next to a creek. I called home everyday, my mother would speak to me for hours at a time, mainly just to let it out. I bugged my brother relentlessly to go over and help them, he said they did not need the help. I felt trapped. I felt homesick. I wanted to be there to help clean up the mess, to help ease my mother's troubled mind. I have no car to get home, there is no bus system here. I sucked it up and hoped things would get better.
I got my course schedule and book list for school during that time as well. I knew that I must start researching used books to keep my costs low. My work schedule barely allowed for this to happen but I was able to spend a Saturday afternoon searching for the best deals. I bought 10 books, which covered my first 5 courses. I felt relieved. I tried to relay the message to my mom, that I was saving money and doing good but she was starting to slip away. That night I also had an extremely hectic turnaround (a turn around is when we take down the previous stage and build the next one, we work all night long). The day before, on the Friday, I got a message from my brother. I was in rehearsals with the actors. I was given a roll for the puppet scene. I was more than thrilled that I could actually be in the play. I never asked for such a role, I did not expect such a duty, but I loved every minute of it. My brother told me that my mother was going crazy, that he was pulled aside by our neighbour and warned him that something very serious was up. I got home from work that night and called my mom, we talked for over an hour. I was attempting to keep her on the line because I knew she could not hold up her shtick for too long. As soon as I started telling her about how the play was going she disappeared. The line was dead. The first stage of panic set in. It's crazy that in this day, with all our many forms of communications, I could not find a single neighbours phone number on the internet. All my friends are scattered, I couldn't think of anyone who could go and check on her for me. Thankfully, she finally answered the phone 10 minutes later not realizing that she ended our phone conversation in mid-sentence.
Sunday to Wednesday were 12-14 hour days for me. It was worth it because 39 Steps was the best play that ever crossed the stage. Our dress rehearsal ended up being in front of a live audience on the Wednesday! We had a few mishaps the first few days, such as curtains not closing properly, a lamp post falling from backstage onto the stage, a smoke machine breaking down... It all came together, while my home fell apart. I called home Monday during my lunch/dinner break, it was a very scary phone call. I will not get into the details at this point, I will say this, I called the Doctor's office immediately and left a message as it was already closed. The next day my mom was in to see the doctor and given some pretty intense pharmaceutical pills. It got worse. I had to be present at work for very long hours and wipe the emotion from my face, on stage for the first time, acting for real.
My only day off was that following Sunday. I decided that if I can't go home to help I would bring my mom to me. I was going to borrow a car to get her on the Sunday, but instead my dad offered to drop her off on Saturday before I went into work. Naturally it was raining that day, I sat shaking and waiting. They arrived and my mother did not look like herself. 2 weeks of intense stress did a number on her physically. Psychologically, she was gone. Scariest day of my life. I made the choice to call an ambulance, she needed help, sedation, something that I could not offer with my own two hands. I had two shows that day while my mother was in the hospital, my dad and uncles and aunts checking up with her. Sunday, my first day off in over two weeks, I was up earlier than usual and off to the hospital. She was smaller than ever before, but much calmer. My brother came down to help as well. It rained again on Monday, the stress got to my dad as well, but thankfully we were already at the hospital when it happened.
Tuesday I was back at work, my dad and brother were back in the city and my mom was released from the hospital under my care. My uncles were nice enough to check in on her while I was working. Co-workers were asking me how I enjoyed my time off and all I could say was, "I'd rather be working." By Friday it was getting difficult for me. Mental illness is something that I've never dealt with in such an extreme case first hand. Saturday my dad arrived to take her back home but before they left they came to see the play. That was a very happy moment for me. A few days before I had missed my cue to walk on stage and pick up the fence because I had started day dreaming about my mom being well enough to come see me in the play. I knew she would regret it if she didn't come. Friday I forced her to walk with me around town and I could not get her into the theaters doors. So for her to come in the very next day was a miracle at that point.
I got through that time and did not break down. I dealt with the stress the best I could, by living in the moment. I watched and worked in that play for 3 weeks, 8 shows a week, each and every time I was thankful for every single moment. The pressure was on me to walk out of work to help my family but I did not think that was the right thing to do. When I felt tears forcing their way into my eyes while sweeping the stage before a show one day, I chose life. Life is always happening around us at all moments, I can't focus my life on sickness and death. Keeping my duties, kept me in one piece. After all, what is the theater if not the perfect escape from life's troubles? I knew that when my mom got better, she would regret it if I had to give up my job. I was working to pay for my school tuition and I needed every single day of work to accomplish that. I had said to my boss/friend at work during that time, "I am sorry, I feel like I am not at my best right now." He said, "But no, in fact you are at your best because you are dealing with so much stress but are still pushing through." He was right, our best is not when we can do great when there are no obstacles in our way, our best is doing great despite the obstacles.
The play was a hit. My mom continued to get back to being herself a little more everyday. By the end of August, my parents were down to party for the Mumford and Sons Stopover Tour in Simcoe. I took on a job as a driver and scored back stage passes. Trust me, I did not need another day of work at that point, I worked the entire month of August. At certain times, my beloved sleep can wait. Like when I am travelling, and when I am working the coolest job ever at such an amazing festival. With that extra last minute gig I saved up the final amount I needed for my tuition. The following weekend I came home with a check in hand. I walked into my schools office and payed for the entire tuition in full. The most money I have ever spent in one transaction in all my life. A very proud moment indeed.
Often I find messages come not only once but repeat themselves. For reasons I do not know but it forms a thought, or concept if you will, in my imagination. I re-watched 2 movies recently that I thoroughly enjoyed the first time around. I am great at forgetting things, or perhaps I am just good at being in the moment and therefore forgetting my preconceived notions of it in order to look at it upon with new eyes.
House of Sand and Fog. (Director: Vadim Perelman, Story by: Andre Dubus)
What I took away from it the first time around was the sadness of this woman and the attachment she had for her home. Having never seen a movie that touched on the topic of house possession it intrigued me and I felt it to be quite original. I had experienced bankruptcy as a child, and knew all too well what it was like to continue to drive past the old house long after ownership had been removed; What it felt like knowing I had to leave a place where all my memories of my family and childhood were held so tightly. I had a hard time letting go. Watching this film the second time around, I realized that I had forgotten the ending of the movie. I had also forgotten about the relationship of the woman and the police officer. I looked upon that relationship seeing a man in an authoritative position preying on a woman's vulnerability, something I had not thought of before. The story however is about a woman who has lost her family's home, unreasonably. And a man who finally found an opportunity through this to be able to give his family a future that had been taken away in his native country. Neither man nor woman could give up on their possession, this house. The ending is absolutely heart wrenching. There is so much more to life than possessing a home, holding onto it because it reminds you of another time, as if that time does not exist without the possession. Well I must tell you, the precious moments exist no matter what. Let go of what you think reminds you of a happy time, if it is an object, that moment exists infinitely no matter what. It exists in our energy. Every moment is a part of you, good or bad. It is not worth losing your life, morals, family over a few riches. Losing ones mental stability to hold onto something that was never really yours in the first place. Getting caught up in another's pain hoping that it will bring you further to your greatest desires. Chose to let go before you lose it all.
"Behrani: [to his son Esmail] Pesaram, she is a bird, a broken one. Your grandfather used to say that a bird which flies into your house is an angel. You must look upon his presence as a blessing."
Match Point. (Written and Directed by Woody Allen)
First of all, I need to go on a Woody Allen binge and watch all his movies. What a creative guy, over flowing with dialect! What I remembered most about Match Point, before watching it again recently, was the surprise twist at the end. Totally unexpected from what I am used to from Mr. Allen. The lead character in Match Point would sell his soul for prestige, money, a lifestyle. He married a woman because she came from wealth and could offer him a job and life that he would not have been willing to work towards on his own. She was pretty and nice. But as soon as a blonde bombshell sparked his attention he acted like he was totally in love and found his soul mate. I would have routed for love, but it turned out he never loved her either. It is hard to speak of this film without giving up the story line entirely. The point is, he could have had a family with a woman whom he shared a great deal of passion with but instead chose a lifestyle. What he did to hold on to this lifestyle was absolutely disgusting and unforgivable. The problem with this story is that they make this evil opportunist man a lucky bastard. He won a life of stagnant possessions, something I personally can happily live without. I mean really, what is life anyway? An opera where you live vicariously through others adventures? An expensive glass of wine and fishy caviar with company that doesn't so much as put a smirk of a smile on your smug face? This movie is a beautifully appalling masterpiece that I cannot relate to whatsoever.
I started paying attention to my dreams at a young age so I learned how to control them and also remember them afterwards. In a dream, sometimes I know I am dreaming and I act in a way that I know I could not in regular life. For example, to escape a bad situation I just flap my arms and fly, I soar. I know how it feels to fly, in fact it feels more real to me than the fact that I cannot in waking life fly.
Another all too common reoccurring dream is of my placement in Port Dover. Funny enough, even after giving up on trying to find work in that special little town, it pulled me back. I mean that in the truest way. I really did not want to go back there this summer. I didn't get the job I wanted after a few years of trying and a friend who was born and raised there decided to, gosh, for lack of better words, hate me. When I was offered a full time position for the last 4 months I had to take it, even through my hesitation I knew I belonged there. I know I have a connection with the land, my roots are dug deep into the Norfolk County soil. I dream all the time of my life there,I am not surprised I ended up there for a nice while. I am also not surprised that when my boyfriend came and picked me up to bring me back home, the rain hit. The rain hit hard, so bad that his windshield wipers stopped working and we had to keep pulling off to the side of the road to wait it out. I knew the land was trying its darnedest to keep me there, but alas I had to move on. For school. For family. But the future holds more.
A few months ago I got pulled over for the first time and got my first ever speeding ticket. On my way to the destination that morning, someone
was driving absolutely erratically; weaving in and out of traffic, cutting
people off, speeding and riding asses. At
the same time someone else was driving towards me on the wrong side of the road; if I were a mere few seconds later the person would have driven into me. I was shaken up, I thought to myself, where
are the police when you need them? Sure
enough, down that road, coming down a hill, I got waved down by a pesky
copper. I got busted going 20-something
over the speed limit. I have since driven
that same route, a few times with another passenger, and there is not a single
speed limit sign to show that the speed limit drops from 60 to 50. I was clocked coming down a hill. I was upset at this $109 (some odd dollars)
speeding ticket. There are so many
horribly insensitive aggressive drivers
on the road. My ticket was uncalled for. I am not saying I am above the law, but I am
not a threat to society. These laws were
made to aid the public, not make life harder on them. I took this particular day to heart because I
was already feeling beat up and let down by life and society. The fine, was the icing on the shitty
cake.
I ended up fighting the ticket. It caused extra stress but I am happy I did
it. I
got my fine reduced and no demerit points were added to my
insurance. I have so many reasons as to
why I do not deserve that ticket. It got
me questioning the system even more, this ever so failing system that we keep
protecting. A pig sitting at the bottom
of a hill is not protecting society from real criminals, what those “officers”
are doing is raising simple people’s insurance rates. They are burdening our court system with meaningless
counsels. You know, after 12 years of
driving and never having a ticket or causing an accident, my insurance rates could
have gone up for not holding onto the breaks while gravity (not the gas pedal)
took me down a hill. It is not as if my
insurance will ever go down for good behaviour, so why should it go up for one
slip up? I was not having it. I deem this unacceptable. I encourage everyone to fight their useless tickets on the grounds of entrapment and capitalism.
I could go on but this was 2 months ago and I am over it.
It was a long and cold winter, the longest and coldest
ever. A year ago I was travelling and conquering; during the past winter I felt like I slipped back into the dark
ages. Applying to jobs and getting
nothing. Work slowing down; feeling
helpless to the matter. Dreaming so big
and feeling hopeless by reality checks .
However, my relationships grew stronger.
My relationship with my parents is better than it has ever been. My boyfriend is the sweetest man on
earth. My friendships deepening with
love and gratitude. I finally found a
school that peeked my interest.
The week of my 29th birthday, everything
changed. I fought that speeding ticket
and won. I had a job interview, that I
did not get, but that made me feel good about myself. I went to the Institute of Holistic Nutrition
and acted as student for the day. I
invited a few friends over to celebrate my birthday, with no expectations and
not much thought into it, and it was the best birthday of my entire life to
date. Everyone made me feel so special
and loved; it warms my heart like nothing else.
Since then I enrolled in said school. I am now officially heading back to school full
time in September.
I got asked to fill in as Head of Wardrobe at the theatre I
had been trying to find work with (obtaining a short contract 2 years ago) for
the past 4 years. They offered me a full
time position as Production Assistant. My
life has done a complete flip turn upside down from how dreary I felt during
those winter months. To have this
incredibly uplifting job in this magical little town is all I ever wanted. It’s funny how life works, as soon as I had
given up and decided to take another course in life, it was finally handed to
me. It has been tough staying true to
myself and my values, but it has finally paid off. I am reaping that which I have sewn over the
years and it is better than imagined. I
feel respected and appreciated in the work that I am doing and the study that I
will throw myself into come fall.
Life is Grand. In the
last two days I have learned some major carpentry skills and I cannot wait to
share all the wonderful little creations that me and the team of wonderful and
creative human beings are conjuring up all in the name of magic and fantasy.
Waiting for my ride back to the beautiful lake side town where I will be residing for 4 months with only a bicycle and my walking feet as my form of transportation. I have been there for 2 weeks already and I gotta say, I have trouble adjusting into the city life very quickly. I am done with the city. I have had enough of the city. I have a lot to say on this topic...
As many know, yesterday was "Earth Day". Instead of taking the route of bashing that "everyday should be earth day" and that designating only one day to the Earth (or likewise one day to your Mother, or one day to be happy of your birth, or one month to remember a part of history) is ridiculous and insignificant I would rather be positive about it. Skepticism can become an excuse to not do anything; to throw important reminders aside because the cause is so much more worthy than what time it is allotted on your calender. Let's be honest, most people need reminders. Even as someone who loves the Earth as much as I do, I am not exempt from this reminder. I would much rather enjoy the designated Earth Day and focus my attention on just that. I gotta admit, I hate having to write discretion's and explanations as to where my motives lie. Writing a blog and sharing things that I do can take away from remaining humble in the eyes of the reader however I do not seek attention from anything I share, merely I enjoy actively sharing experiences and bridging the gap between human connections.
Currently, my boyfriend lives in Brampton in a basement apartment. The apartment itself is a nice size, bigger than many condos up for sale in the G.T.A. at a price point of $300,000. However, the people upstairs make me sad. The past 8 months has been my first experience with basement apartments. It is very close to living with strangers that do not share a single thing in common with you. As many people may have experienced if they ever had roommates or lived with a partner or family, even when you love the people in your home, it is hard to see eye to eye on everything. These people upstairs are not even that bad. I could picture a million more things that could be wrong with the situation, but the mere few problems hurt my soul. I have learned a lesson from this though: I must work on my own inability to cope with negative energies around me; to find peace in chaos, after all, that is the true essence of peace.
I will mention, but not get too deeply into the way the mother upstairs berates her 5 year old child daily. Perhaps someone could enlighten me on why there would ever be a reason to scream at the top of your lungs to a small child that she is stupid? I think about it everyday. I have even made up excuses for the woman involved. I have heard her and her husband fight and call each other horrible names, I know the mother is taking her own inner pain out on her child. But it does not make it right.
My story today is about the garbage build up. It started with fast food things falling out (or being tossed out) of their vehicles onto the driveway. Then newspapers being left outside to the wind. Random beer caps and cigarette butts. Empties being piled up outside the back door. Mail not being removed from the mail box. Eventually they started tossing full garbage bags out the back door onto the lawn. The garbage is piling up at this moment. The garbage is being blown by the wind so now every time I go to see my boyfriend I have to walk through a barricade of their trash to get to the door. I wanted to knock on their door on Earth Day wearing gloves and garbage bags in hand saying, "Hey guys! Happy Earth Day! I will help you clean up your crap, let's go!"
Frankly put, I wimped out. These people spend half their time yelling at each other or their 5 year old daughter, why should I be exempt? So instead I decided that in honour of Earth Day I will be the change that I want to see in them. I put on a bright yellow glove and picked up every piece of trash along the driveway. I scoured the front yard and found random things like full ketchup packages to throw in the bag. The back yard, the worst of the situation, became too much for one person with a yellow glove. The garbage bags have been torn open and I was finding bones strewn all over the yard. I picked up as much as I could fit in the bag, tied a knot and placed it in my boyfriends trash bin. The "man" who lives in the house was home the entire time. I am not sure if he saw me but I was sincerely afraid of him yelling at me for picking up his trash. The saddest part about the situation is that I cringe when I head over to Brampton to spend time with me boyfriend because it hurts my heart to see people who show no respect to Mother Earth, let alone respect to each other.
Do I dare say what is really bothering me about local environmental issues?
I do. I will.
It is hard to admit without ridicule but I am going to throw it out there regardless.
As a child, growing up in a multicultural city was educational and interesting. My most bestest (I know this is not a word I chose to use it anyway) friends in the world were not born in the same country as I, that which we all now reside. I loved going over to others' homes and trying new foods and seeing cultural differences. I am grateful for being exposed to so many cultures at a young age and to this day. I love that both sides of my family have different traditions and I got to experience two totally different worlds when visiting my Grandparents. Unfortunately a pattern that I dislike has been occurring for years now. I have seen time and time again that many immigrants do not seem to give a flying fiddler's fart about the environment.
When I was a child I used to spend quite a bit of time with my Grandma and Grandpa. They were both born in the Norfolk County Area and still live there to this day. I still remember vividly my Grandpa picking up any trash he would see on the ground. He never told me I had to pick it up but I always remembered how he never once complained that it was not his trash and therefore not his responsibility to get rid of it. Keeping our environment clean came so natural to my Grandparents. There was no need to teach cleaning up in school. Even dog's don't shit where they sleep. Taking care of your surroundings is the true sense of human pride. We are born of this Earth, we will die and go back into it. The Earth is a part of us. When people say we are children of god, I understand it to be We are children of the Earth.
Since the snow has melted the accumulation of trash around the creek in the neighborhood is not only disrespectful but shameful. There are garbage, and newly added recycle, bins scattered all along the path running parallel with the creek. I cannot fathom why anyone would decide to throw their trash on the ground instead of in a bin. I decided that I would bring a couple of bags with me on this Earth Day and pick up the trash. I will be honest, if it wasn't Earth Day, I would not have thought about this simple action of cleaning up the creek. I put my ego aside, the part of me that knows that it was not me who contributed to this mess, and just do it for the sake of Mother Earth to show respect to what is most important to me.
Overall, picking up trash was a positive experience. It virtually took no effort. It was a beautiful sunny day, I picked up some trash with yellow gloves and I saw a big difference. It was pretty much the least I could do. How hard is it to pick up some things off the ground? However, prevention takes even less effort. Smarten up people, I for one am not becoming more tolerable to these discrepancies around me. I am becoming less fearful of the reaction of others. I might one day kick you in the nuts for throwing your trash in the creek or screaming at your innocent child. I care about the quality of life for all, even those who are destroying it for all, there are no exceptions. The worst trash that I picked up was from someone or some people who had been picking up their dog's shit in a plastic bag, tying a knot in the bag and then tossing it off to the side. I found numerous of these shit filled bags adjacent to garbage bins. What The Fuck? It would be better to just leave the crap on the ground because at least it will decompose back into the earth. But to put it in a plastic bag and tie it so that the poop can macerate in a plastic bag for years and become more and more gross is just mind blowing!
I had a favourite moment on Monday afternoon. I did receive many smiles and nods from people passing by which I hope might make people maybe take part next year. The moment however was from the school children across the creek. When I first started on our walk I could see the trash build up on the other side of the creek where the school yard is. I remembered as a child being taken out on Earth Day to clean up our yard. I wondered if the kids were still doing that? On the way back a whole class of kids were cleaning up the other side and I can tell you it made a huge difference and it took place within minutes. A little girl saw me on the other side and smiled and waved; I smiled and waved back. It was a moment of human connection that is not as rare as we so often think.
One year left of my 20's. What does this mean? Does it mean anything? Well sure it means that a decade is almost up. But it also means a decade will soon be starting again. A new chapter if you will. It is nice to think of this next year as the final chapter of my 20's. After all, life is but a book.
“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” – St. Augustine
I would definitely say that the climax of the last 9 years was my travel through Europe. The pinnacle of my 20's if you please. Everything lead up to that adventure. It meant the world to me. It still does. I feel like the last chapter, everything since the climax, has been truly a descent. Not in a negative way though. While life has not been as exciting, it still has been extremely changing and necessary. It's like reaching the top of a mountain: it took 8 days to get up there but only 2 to get down. In order for me to reach the next mountain top I first have to come down of the last and descend into the valley.
In my post entitled "volcano" I spoke about a difficult time and how that time triggered a past hurt. I wrote about that event because I was again, going through an emotional week. I was trying to figure out why I was feeling so down and as I brainstormed I realized that it was exactly a year ago when I had that emotional break down in Sicily. It made me question the reasons for it even more so. What were the similarities and why was I going through it again?
I have been reading a lot this past year. Specifically, getting in tune with my spiritual side. I have been changing my diet and practicing yoga regularly These are things that raise your frequency and help to open your pineal gland also known as the third eye. A year ago, I had no use for chakras. This year, I think about them everyday. If I cannot sleep at night I meditate on specific colours and find calmness until I sleep. I have come to terms with how vivid my dreams are and to take special note to them. I am no longer ashamed to admit that this stuff, this so called wacky hippie shit, intrigues me.
I have always had a keen interest in human psychology. I am my number one patient. I have been aware of my coping mechanisms and how I deal with things since early childhood, even if I haven't always been able to control or change my behaviour at times. I am at least aware. With awareness comes understanding and accepting and then learning which brings change. So when I re-tell a story, it is my way of letting it go so that I can move on. The key to wellness is letting go of the past. Even if we look back on our past with fondness, we are still then comparing it to the now and trying to live up to a "better time". What I am still continually trying to remind myself is to stay in the present moment. To not anticipate the future and to not let the past hold me back. Life is about the PRESENT.
“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That's why we call it the present.”
― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
How can one let go of the past if they do not fully understand the lesson that it was meant to teach you? The best example I can give is myself. Last year as I was having a mental breakdown, I felt burdened by events of my past which only added to my pain. Even after writing it out and analyzing the parallels between all the circumstances I was still left feeling sad and unhappy. I was still sitting in my room trying to understand where this deep rooted sadness came from? I first recognized it when I was a child and it became more prominent in my teens. It then came back in my early twenties. It never went anywhere it merely remained dormant for a short while. Like a volcano.
The other night I read a chapter in Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth Awakening to Your Life's Purpose about the "pain-body". A few weeks prior my little Earth Angel gave me a book about Earth Angel's which also spoke about this same subject. It all came very clear to me. To fully explain however, I feel like I need to also retell the story of my first week in Spain. After that emotional week in Sicily, I jumped on a plane and landed in Seville, Spain... so the story goes...
My first night in Spain was by far thee hardest travel day of my 3 months on the road. It was the first and only time that I actually got lost on my way to the hostel. I had the bus number written in my little red book that would drop me off at "Plaze del Duque". My plane arrived around 8pm. By the time I got to the appropriate bus stop the sun was down. I got on the right bus and just to make sure I asked the driver if this bus would indeed drop me of at "plaza del duke" (that is how I pronounced it). The bus driver did not understand me and was quite rude about it. I showed him the writing in my book in case I pronounced it wrong. He sighs, "oh plaza del duque" (pronounced doo-kay) and then once again rudely shook his head and tried to shun me off on my way. The passenger behind me chimed in and explained that because of the parades the bus would not be going that way. "Parades?" I said confusingly. I had no other directions so I smiled and tried to give him my money for the fare regardless and figured I could at least get close enough and walk the rest of the way. He would not accept my money, I had no choice but to get off the bus.
I got on the next bus and I had no clue where it was taking me. As the people on the bus started to filter out I started feeling panic set in. It was nearing 10 pm at this point and I was lost. A woman sitting close to me could sense my worry. She looked at me and in English asked me if I was lost. I sighed such a relief knowing I could at least communicate with her. I told her I was indeed lost. She said that I could come back with her to her apartment and she would lend me a map. I did not take her up on the offer though, in my head I was thinking I could just stay on the bus and hopefully it would just loop around and go back to where I had started and I could try again. The bus was nearing her stop and so she had to go. But before getting off she spoke to a young boy who was sitting next to her. She said he would help me and got off the bus. This young man could not speak english so he got out his phone and used it to interpret spanish into english. He showed me the screen and it said "Follow Me."
What was I to do? This guy can see that I am scared and lost. I am the perfect person to kidnap at the moment. Do I trust him? The bus comes to a stop and then suddenly a song comes over the speaker. There was no music playing until this exact moment. This was the song:
I decide that the song is a sign. I follow him. Through the phone he lets me know it's going to be a long walk. I nod and carry on. We are walking fast, there are many people on the streets. We are going down alleys and crossing streets, all the while I am thinking he could very well lead me into a dead end alley and kill me. But I trek on. He even asks people passing by for directions and ever so politely says "gracious" except this is the first time I hear the Spain pronunciation of thank you. It is pronounced "glathious". I honestly thought he was either gay or had a lisp. I later learned that I am an ignorant north american and now I actually pronounce gracious the way of the Spaniards because the language originates there however I digress...
We start making our way into a more central area. That is when my jaw drops. I see the KKK marching down the street. (The white capes and pointy hats originate in Spain, by the way, so the American racist group are not actually affiliated in fact they stole the look from priests.) I look at him and he sees my astonishment. As we try and make our way closer to the address in my little red book we are stopped by parades and crowds of people down every street. I thank him over and over again for bringing me this far and he carries on to probably meet his family or friends to celebrate. I learn the hard way that I just happened to land into Seville on the biggest celebration day in all of Spain. Seville celebrates Easter like no other place in the world. My timing for landing in that particular place at that exact time was crazy, bizarre, insane, and above all else, unforgettable.
In North America, we are so quick to forget what Easter is truly about. Jesus is the reason for the season. The Universe decided that I needed a reminder. So here I am in Seville, lost and confused, carrying my life on my shoulders. I am hungry. I am tired. I am heading down street after street only to be bombarded with crowds of people and the image of Jesus carrying his cross. In Spain, everyone gets an entire week off of work or school to take it to the streets and remember what Jesus went through about 2000 years ago. Every night there is a parade with intricate statues and intense marching bands circling the streets. They go on until the sun comes up, for a whole week. That Wednesday just happened to be the most important day and also the biggest parade day. I am carrying my back pack and he is carrying his cross. We keep running into each other around every corner, there is no escape.
Eventually I have to stop to get food. I need to sit and rest. I am pissing off the people who are celebrating and mourning by trying to push through the crowd with this enormous rucksack on my back. I find a little pizza joint. It is packed. I ask for a slice to go and I take it outside and sit next to a fountain in the square. I gobble that meal up and asses the situation. At this point, I do know in which direction my hostel is in but I have to figure out a way to get past a parade. After my rest, I get up and try and walk a few blocks over and then back inwards, hoping to get around the crowds. I find myself by a park and I see a dude with his motorcycle. I decide to ask him where I am. He looks like my friend Raff so I immediately feel comfortable. Bonus, he speaks English! He pulls out his phone we type in the address of my hostel and sure enough it is literally 1 minute away down the next street! I am thrilled! I skip away and see the hostel sign and could literally kiss the ground at this point.
It is now midnight as I check in. I could continue on with this story at this point but everything will just tie into the next day and the next and I will sit here all night re-telling my time in Spain!
I had a real reminder that week about the life of Jesus. I am not a religious person. I have said for a long time I feel that Jesus is just a dude like you or me and that by idolizing him we are pretty much making an excuse to not be as good as him. I feel that we could all be peaceful and loving and caring just like Jesus. He was hung on a cross for being just that, a peaceful and kind human being. Even worse still, wars and murder have gone on the last 2000 years in his name. People have used him to gain control over others. Most people who worship Jesus, do it so painfully wrong. How his message got flip turned upside down over the years is beyond my understanding.
What I have learned these last few weeks is that we all carry the pain from the beginning of our time in our DNA. It is embedded in us. Eckhart suggests in his book that it is why babies come out of the wound kicking and screaming. The most sensitive and loving people often become drug addicts and abusive because we are all dealing with centuries of pain, and it is still going on to this very day. Rape, murder, abuse, ridicule, judgement, the list goes on. One thing I have noticed the last few years, the older I get the more sensitive I get to the pain of others. I can't take it anymore. However, learning that we all have it inside us helps me to understand. Hopefully with understanding every single one of us can learn to let go of our pain-body's. Pain from the past lingers. It is in the air. You can feel it when you enter certain places where true evil could possibly have taken place in the past. We feel it around certain people who are holding grudges or are particularly angry often. The pain is often heavier in certain cultures and especially in woman. During the Spanish Inquisition, woman were accused of witchcraft and burned alive for merely walking barefoot in the grass.
The point now is to let go of not just our own personal past, our stories, but to also let go of what humans have done to each other since the beginning of time. Look to the present. Look to now. I refuse to accept that it is human nature to be so unkind to each other. It is time to change this. I am not perfect because I see the parallels I am still fighting that which is inside that wants to feed off of pain. I will keep trying to learn and change as I grow.
"Forgive the past. It is over. Learn from it and let go. People are constantly changing and growing. Do not cling to a limited, disconnected, negative image of a person in the past. See that person now. Your relationship is always alive and changing.”
—Brian L. Weiss, Messages from the Masters: Tapping Into the Power of Love
The story of Nicola Nicola was a little boy from Sicily who lived by the sea. He loved swimming so much he would spend every day out in the water. Every night his mother would call out to him when dinner time approached "Coooooolllaaaaa!" She would shout until he found his way back home. The kids in his town would often make fun of him, he had no true friends. His whole childhood was spent in the sea. He was able to stay under water for long periods of time, all day even. Eventually he even developed webbed feet and gills like that of a fish. This of course, only caused more teasing from his peers. As he grew older, his fondness for the sea grew stronger. Sometimes he would be gone for days even. One day the King of Sicily got word of his special gift of being such a strong swimmer. He came to Cola and explained that Sicily and all it's people were in great danger. You see, back then, Sicilians believed that Sicily was being held up by large posts. Over time, the posts were beginning to erode. The King asked Cola if he would come on this special mission with him and Cola obliged. The King took Cola out far deep into the Sea and asked him to swim as deep as possible to see if the posts were failing and if Sicily would soon sink under water. Cola agreed and dove deep under the Sea. But, he never returned. The people of Sicily believe that there are three possible outcomes to this story. Did Cola find the broken post and stay under water forever, holding Sicily up and thus being a hero and saving it from sinking? Did Cola go too deep and be taken away lost forever in the Sea? Or did Cola eventually turn fully into a fish and swam away, becoming free from society's demands and ridicule?
I was told this folklore on my last night in Alcamo while hanging out at the natural Termo's. Of course I cannot tell it as good as Massimo who is from Sicily and who's grandparents told him the story that was passed down from generation to generation. After he finished we discussed the outcome. My friends believed that Cola was still under the Sea holding up Sicily and saving it from sinking. To them, this made him the hero. But I thought otherwise. I hope that he swam away and is free, instead of holding the weight of the world on his shoulders for people who never made him feel welcome or loved in the first place. They thought my view was horrible and it takes away from Cola being a hero and turns him into a coward. I disagree. I think it is most courageous to chose freedom over enslavement. The idea of him holding up the island forever and ever makes me sad. The idea of him swimming away and becoming a fish makes me happy and that makes him more of a hero in my eyes.
Exactly a year ago today, I was on my way from Napoli to Sicily. It had been a dream of mine to go to Sicilia probably since I saw the Godfather for the first time. I also drew inspiration from this ancient land from a book I read that I had found at a Salvation Army back in the day called, Olivo Oliva. Sicily is just full of tradition and culture and surrounded by the crystal clear turquoise sea. Before leaving to Europe, I had thought about designating a whole month to the land. I would meet my friend, Pame, and we would rent a car and travel the whole soccer ball. One thing led to another as time grew short so I was only able to give a week to that dream. I conquered only a mere smidgen of the land but oh boy, was it ever spectacular and breathtaking Absolutely stunning. I would go back to Sicily in a heart beat.
I met Pame on an early Wednesday morning. I had taken a night train to save from losing another day travelling. I walked from the train station to meet her at an apartment she had rented the night before. I came up to the address and buzzed, she poked her head out from the window up above. And so our adventure began. I could honestly write a script based upon that one day in Palermo alone. We walked the streets together looking for a specific something. We had been travelling together through Athens but then separated for a week and a half; me to Santorini and her to Berlin. We spent that entire day taking turns telling parts of our stories. Everything surrounded around the one event that was leading us on this treasure hunt. If I were to write this movie, I would call it "The Morning After" and it would resemble a Woody Allen film but be inspired by Before Sunrise.
A Postcard for Neener
Palermo wasn't doing it for me. I wanted to see the countryside, not another dirty Italian city with garbage heaps everywhere and men making passes as we walked down the street. We found a farm to rent in a nearby town called Alcamo. The ad stated "Holiday, Nature, Sea, Relax". However I think it also said "fun" at the time but Massimo had since changed the ad. It was a mere 20 Euros a night! We jumped on a bus and headed to this town on the sea. We arrived at a bus station near a park. The sun was shining bright, it was warm as hell. I went inside the small bus station/cafe and got me some pistachio gelato. The boy serving it really scooped in that ice cream, it was practically over flowing. Our host, Massimo, arrived right at that moment as I was devouring this mountain of a treat. We got into his little car and he took us to the farm.
We pull up to the gated house and I am already blown away. In front was the hills and countryside that I had always dreamed of. The farm was laced with lemon, fig, and olive trees. Massimo had planted every single one of those trees with his Grandpa when he was just a boy. The farm had an outdoor kitchen and a nice relaxing deck. Pam and I agreed, that it would be so nice to just lay outside for the next few days and do absolutely nothing. I pictured myself walking along the winding roads, picking flowers, making things out of nature. She said that she would help me learn more Spanish as I was heading to Spain next. Well my plans to relax didn't quite happen.
Massimo took us to the Termo's that very day. The Termo is a natural hot spring. It is off the beaten track; a place we never would have found without a local helping us. It was really awesome to just chill out in that hot water. Relax all the aching muscles from the journey thus far. On the way back, we got some groceries from the market and Pame and I made a lovely dinner for two. I even picked a lemon from the tree for the salad dressing.
That night we washed up and jumped into bed, about to watch Choclat, as Pam was absolutely appalled that I had never seen that film before. But then Massimo and his friend Guisseppe showed up at our door ready to take us out on the town. I really did not want to go but also did not want to be rude. So I quickly got ready and obliged. We went into the little town of Alcamo and got the largest beer I have ever seen in my life. Guisseppe could not speak any English, I could not speak any Italian, Pamela is fluent in Spanish and could have a conversation in Italian, Massimo's English was great in my opinion. Unfortunately, that night, not much English was spoken. I felt like the odd man out. It was difficult sitting at a table with people who are all laughing having a good time and I am sitting there like a lamb lost in the woods. At that point, I really would have preferred to just be alone instead of faking a smile to accommodate their comfort. The night was good though, it was lovely out and we saw some nice spots in Alcamo. I was most happy to be home in bed at the end of the night.
The next day I woke up way earlier than Pamela. My mind would wake up and that was that. I enjoyed the morning to myself, showering and puttering around in the garden. Eventually Massimo showed up to take us somewhere beautiful. As much as I just wanted to hang out in the garden, I did not want to be a party pooper so off we went. He first brought us to a cute little cafe where we got drinks and I got a very yummy pastry. Massimo took us to the beach which is right in the back of the apartment he lives in. I was in shock, I said this is what you see everyday!? The beach has white sands stretching out as far as the eye can see. The day was sunny and hot, we were in luck! We did some yoga and went for a walk, I was in awe of how clear the water was. Massimo and Pamela were goofing off and I was having this urge to just be alone. I walked off from them to just do my thing.
Eventually the three of us were laying on the beach hanging out. I was reading and Massimo was bugging me about it. Telling me that reading was boring and he kept interrupting my story. I was starting to get a bit annoyed. I just wanted to do my thing; I love reading on the beach it is my favourite. He went inside his apartment to change or shower or something and asked us to wait. The wait was long. We were in the sun, I was starting to feel myself losing it slightly. I could feel the desire to to just be alone growing inside me.
Pame and I really wanted to find a place with wifi that day. By the time we got into town nothing was open. The boys really wanted to cook dinner for us so Massimo took us to pick up Guisseppe and we went to the market. Little things started weighing on my patience. It is unlike me to not be able to go with the flow, something was up but I didn't understand what yet. Next thing, we were back at the farm ready to cook dinner. I had mistook the dinner plans, I thought we were eating at either their places. I felt a little bit like our privacy was being encroached upon. I mean, we rented a private house and now visitors were coming over to cook. I had left all my things lying around so I nervously tried to clean up a bit for them. Dinner was good. I was bad. I felt my emotions getting ready to explode. I was faking a smile as much as I could but deep down inside I felt absolute misery. I did not eat much and I fought the tears back the entire dinner.
Afterwards, the boys were giving Pam a nice massage on the deck. I snuck away to the back of the garden where no one could see me. I sat in the dirt and I cried. I cried and cried. I dug my hands deep into the garden to feel the earth that I had so longed to feel. I could hear Pame in the distance calling for me. I did not want to worry her but I also just really wanted my moment in that garden to be private. I had to come out of the garden and tell her that I was feeling highly emotional and I didn't know why. She was understanding and supportive.
The next morning, I was up early again. I discovered that choosing to not put sun screen on my legs was a bad idea. My legs were as red as a tomatoe. I found some sunglasses and put them on. Pam got mad at me because they weren't mine. I wasn't stealing them, I was just trying to hide my puffy eyes. I felt tears already forming, I knew my mind was lost and I wasn't sure how I would get it back. Massimo arrived and we were off on another adventure. Massimo had suggested that they speak English to make me feel more like a part of the conversation, I thought that was a great idea but Pam just kept reverting back to Spanlian. I put my headphones on. I knew I was being antisocial but I was trying to do things that comfort me, to try and aid my emotional state. That day I realized my issue with being helpless in a car. When I am not in a healthy mind state, I have discovered that I can realize where my weaknesses lie. When things from the past that I may not have fully dealt with come crawling back to haunt me. Like the lava in a volcano waiting for eruption.
Massimo was always picking us up and taking us somewhere. I didn't know where we were going and I did not have a choice in the matter. I felt helpless. To make things clear, Massimo is the nicest guy in the world. Taking us places like that was so amazing of him, he asked for nothing in return. At that time, I was just going through something emotionally and I felt even more guilty that I was not able to enjoy what he was doing for us and thus being unappreciative. So my guilt just made me even more emotional. My realization that day about being in a car and being helpless was a common theme of my past. When I was a child my father often drank and drove. He picked me up from school many times inebriated and I remember being very scared. I was a child, I had no choice but to get in the swerving vehicle. Later, after my dad had quit drinking for 5 years, he had relapsed and it was discovered while he was driving our family to the cottage. It was the 1 year anniversary of when his father passed away. It clearly effected him and he snuck some alcohol. While in the car we noticed something wasn't right with him. He was drunk. We pulled over and my mom took the wheel. I had a flood of memories that I had repressed since childhood come back at full speed. It was a lot to handle. It is the underlying cause to why I do not like feeling out of control and trapped while in a vehicle.
My first ex-boyfriend used to take the opportunity to yell at me while in his car. He knew I could not walk away so when I would not expect it he would drive me somewhere and just start yelling at me. I felt so helpless, I often thought of throwing myself out of the moving vehicle but I never did. I would always end up crying and he would not let me go home until I stopped crying so that my parents would not know that he just berated me. My second ex-boyfriend was a horrible driver. He never wore his seat belt either. He would smoke weed, talk on the cell phone, check out girls passing by, change the radio, and eat a sandwich all at the same time while driving. Being in a car with him had me always on a constant alert. He passed through stop signs on numerous occasions. He made me feel very unsafe.
So here I am in Sicily, looking out the window at the most beautiful scenery and all I can think about is my past hurts because the situation is triggering my memory. I did eventually snap out of it. Guisseppe brought me a cigar that day and it really helped to calm my nerves. We went to a lagoon like beach and it was so beautiful. I swam in the Mediterranean Sea for the first time ever that day. We also rode on a scooter. Oh man I laughed so hard on that scooter. There was 4 of us on it and Massimo was wearing a speedo and Pame could feel his junk bumping around on her back! We were dying of laughter! The boys joked that we would get to have free lunch that day, in jail.
We went to another beach along the way and also to a small village. It was a great day. I also realized that day why I was losing my mind. I have a B12 deficiency. I give myself monthly injections of B12. While travelling, my doctor thought it would be best if I did not carry needles with me. So I was taking daily B12 pills. They weren't working and I realized that the hard way after I had been 6 weeks on the road. We went searching for a pharmacy but could not find one that had what I needed. Sicily is oldschool. Massimo was feeling pretty bad, he thought I was not enjoying his beautiful homeland. I told him that just was not the problem, I have a health issue and it is why I have been so distraught the last few days. At this point Pame and I still hadn't had access to the internet. I really wanted to let my parents know I was doing well and I also really needed to find a place to stay in Palermo for the one night I would be there before catching my plane to Seville. Guisseppe brought over his laptop and we got to do our computer stuff. Massimo called his friend who worked at a pharmacy and we explained my dire need for my B12 shot.
The next day he dropped us off into town and we of course had to wait hours for the pharmacy to open as it was Siesta. I caved at that point and bought a pack of cigarettes. They helped to calm me down and aid me. I went into the pharmacy and got my medication. We took it back to the farm. I opened the package and it looked nothing like how it looks back at home! The needle was way larger, I felt like I was in a cartoon and a nurse was pulling out a syringe and my eyes were popping out of my head. The glass vile had to be broke and then mixed. I had no clue what to do. Massimo helped me and showed me how it was done. I will say it again, Sicily is oldschool! I managed to suck it up and get that long needle into my leg. Within minutes I felt better.
It was our last night in Alcamo so we begged Massimo to take us back to the Termo's for one last night time dip. It was lovely and I felt like myself again! Sicilia really is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to. I will go back one day and explore the rest of it. I really wanted to visit Etna, and at that time the volcano was highly active. The moral of this story is that sometimes adventures don't go as planned. Sometimes the experience can by brutal and sad. The point is to take even those bad experiences and hold them close to your heart and to understand that there is a lesson to be learned. Even though my emotions took a hold of me that week and inhibited me from being happy; I look back and feel like I would not want it any other way. I learned a lot from this experience and I had to lean on friends, both old and new, who showed me love and compassion. For that I am grateful.
