When I lived in the Beaches area of Toronto, I took time to walk around the neighbourhood or along the boardwalk at the lake. Or just sit on a park bench by the water and people watch. Say hi to all the dogs.
One of my favourite things to do was go to the Island and explore.
Any random Saturday or Sunday or day off from work, I would be on that ferry bright and early heading over to Centre Island to take pictures or just sit and look at the City from across the water.
I don’t take pictures any more and walking mostly happens when I have to get somewhere. I’m trying to take at least one day per week for myself but it’s not easy to get back to myself.
Since moving to this area of town, I stopped doing all of the things that made me happy.
It’s difficult to describe but those parts of me that found comfort, peace, joy in activities for their own sake, have been stripped away.
But it didn’t happen all at once.
No.
It has been a slow death. The kind you don’t realize is happening until you wake up one day and don’t recognize the person in the mirror staring back at you.
The cells my body have been altered and have adapted to this existence and now when I try to do the things which used to come so naturally to me, my mind can create the path to joy but my body rebels and rejects the joy.
When I do venture out on my ‘me’ days I begin to feel queasy and off centre because I’m always cognizant of the limited time I have.
I know I need some sort of life overhaul but where to start?
I’ve been seeing something on one of the social media platforms about a stone called moldavite. Moldavite was created when meteorites hit the earth and the impact instantly melted the rock and soil it hit; then that material cooled when it got tossed into the air by the force of the impact.
It’s supposed to cause a great upheaval in one’s life. Like it will tear everything down, anything in your life that isn’t serving you, in order to rebuild to something better, but the tear-down definitely has to happen first.
The thing is, you just don’t know what parts of your life will crumble. Could be your job, your car, your relationship, you might be forced to shave your head or change your hair colour.
Could be anything.
And wouldn’t happen slowly either. Nope. It’s reported to happen quickly; like start your day as usual, and then by the end of the day, the shit meets the oscillating fan.
I know not everyone believes that crystals, rocks, plants, water, etc. can affect any change in one’s life, but I do believe that all natural things possess certain properties that can make a person feel better or worse simply by being around them.
And I don’t mean that in a supernatural, other-worldly, or other-dimensional sort of way. I mean it quite literally and on a physical level in the here and now.
If you think about it, every natural thing on earth runs on their own frequencies or vibrations, even humans. And I believe that these properties of the natural world can affect the experience of the human body.
I know I always feel better, calmer, more at ease, free, when I am near a large body of water. And if it’s the ocean, then I am completely at peace and in my version of heaven.
It has been proven that crystals vibrate based on their geometry and composition and the electricity or energy that they are exposed to.
So I don’t think it’s a stretch to believe that something like moldavite could vibrate on a level which could cause change in the environment around you and then cause further change in other circumstances around you and so on; like ripples in water.
It could very well be a catalyst for change, considering how it was created, but I’m not sure I’m ready for it right now.
I’ve lost so much control over my life and I guess I want a bit of that control back.
I’m not one of those people who answer with “surprise me” when somebody asks them what they want from the fridge. I want to be prepared for anything and I want to know what I’m in for.
It’s not all doom and gloom though.
Something positive that is happening right now is that the Italian has reconnected with the children. It’s limited but it’s still happening.
Hopefully they’ll start to visit their father and grandmother again but if a condition of them visiting was that I couldn’t be at the house, then I’d make sure I wasn’t at the house when they arrived and I wouldn’t return until the visit was over.
No matter what I think of them or their whore mother, if it makes the Italian happy then I’m keeping my mouth shut about it.
Wicked StepMother 