Stories, Coming to Life

I am loving @novelicious

But where is that beautiful picture by Alexander Bach? I was hoping it would be displayed here. Well, you can click on the link up there or somewhere after the period or “full stop” as I remember the British say.

Beautiful, no? I love tutus and books. I have a black tutu.

Oh right, back to writing my book by hand and doodle. I’m feeling purist.

And I am alive, very much alive.

A walking story of stories. Excuse me, a two-legged story taking a walk through life. Maybe I should take a  hike in a book! Like that picture.

I’m developing my own voice always. I’m quite sure there isn’t one exactly like it. Like snowflakes. I used to cut snowflakes out a lot, even when I was getting lectured for something. Snip, snip, snip and you make a pattern.

If you’d like to join me in promoting the benefits of storytelling in life and business, I don’t mess around – even when it looks like I am. I am embracing the mess and making the mundane magic so I can heal.

I would like as my gift to make this experience easier for others than I have had it myself, and in the meantime get back on my feet with the support of a world who shares my love of humanity. I am laser focused on accessing health for myself as a mother and I know I am not alone.

I have the gift of communications, writing and insight from years of out of the box thinking and experiences. I believe in self-evident truth and encouraging strong individuality as a baseline.

Here is my current GoFundMe campaign.

Thank you for sharing this reality with me.

The featured image is me at a lake in Texas. Grapevine comes to mind. I took a selfie and messaged it. “I am the Queen of the world!” A true Titanic moment.

“I am the Queen of the world!” A true Titanic moment.

“You are,” my Messenger replied.

I had no response.




Ahahaha – Here we go! #draft1 #authors #jamesjoyce #tribute #mynovel #preface

(Titles are ridiculous these days. I’m like who is writing this, four year olds would make more sense. So you can see my reticence about working in that environment. It’s basically against my religion.) 

I am so accidentally cool, lol. I got that from Happy Feet.

But I am not only accidentally cool. I am also many other things.

I’m celebrating with a post on my blog now that I am sort of breaking up with Facebook or at least changing the terms of our endearment. Lol.

I am also celebrating that I am celebrating with a post.

What else do I have to celebrate?

Coming across the Cancer Ward by Alexander Solzhenitsyn (thank goodness for Grammarly lol).

Especially because I had come across it just after my diagnosis. The cordycep mushrooms. I immediately bought some of that tea at Sprouts. I thought the faeries probably showed it to me. Usually I just call them magic.

So that’s like full circle on that experience.

Also the format I found it in this time is mega perfect. Does this make me superstitious? Is this serendipitous?

More on that later. Formats, superstition and serendipity! #addtolist

Also add to the #makelist … darnit I forgot.

Please feel free to join me as I explore other worlds and options that others have not yet considered perhaps – or at least that I have yet to hear of except in my own mind.

Actually I don’t hear with my mind or in my mind usually maybe. But sometimes I think I have synthesia – or did, actually. I then decided it was probably a mild case and I didn’t care anyway. Most things don’t make sense to me – just kidding. I mean people.

Things are all fine until suddenly I’m like “What!!!!!” inside. And I am speechless.

Stupid me.

If you enjoy this or want to help me get my head straight, please consider donating to my current gofundme campaign!  

And stay tuned for my own market with all the products I use to recover and rehabilitate my mind and body.

I’m also thinking Events.

Here we go!

Saturday Slump or No? You Decide #breastcancer #fireblood #chemobrain

#breastcancer #recovery #reconstruction #politics #depression #rage #nausea #fireblood #chemobrain

Very sick to my stomach today. I am great deep inside but my body has been through hell. I do not know right now how to honor it besides sleeping when I can and eating what I can. I feel beyond exhausted. All the caring and tolerance seems to have been misdirected, part of me says. The power of acceptance for others, I must turn that inward to myself.

I believe as one of the rules of karma, that the true value of work depends on the energy and intent put into it. This is what can make the mundane magical. More than parlor trick magic. It transcends suffering. It has been repeatedly confusing to me, as I’ve been reborn over and over – at least 3 times – into new worlds, with new families, new friends, new enemies, less frenemies – how the economy works in terms of value.

This still baffles me. I believe what I give is priceless. No one loves like I love. No one cares like I care. No one sees what I see. They may see some of it. But they don’t see all of it. How could they? They’re not me.

But somehow in today’s society and where I have poked my nose in the spirit of unity and creativity towards common goals, I have been disappointed. Perhaps my heart is too low. Lift it up they say, lift it up. And then they walk on. And I think, when I am depressed and depleted, am I not worth lifting up?

This has more to do with my inner dialog than what is going on around me except that I believe that everyone is a mirror of what is going on in my soul that I cannot acknowledge because the pain puts me out, but only for a little while.

Please shush with your pain, with your sadness. Please make some money with that. And also, please be positive.

When I am in pain, when I cannot feel love, I still know it’s there. It keeps me breathing. But sometimes I think why… Those ideas that kept me alive and hopeful through the challenges, I don’t mind if they are all old and must be done away with. Bye bye, big plans. Bye bye, old dreams. You are too lofty for me now.

People do not understand what chemo brain is. The government and their health programs are so far detached that I suppose I could sit around waiting for two years for a house. Their records are so out of date and the time it takes to update things so wretchedly slow it’s like a time warp. But there are good things about it too.

Get a job is a great idea. Why haven’t I thought of that! Maybe because it has been all my body could do – with the help of some friends and strangers who I am grateful to – to get myself to appointments. To retrain my mind to be organized. To think positively. To watch my positiveness be taken advantage of as if it’s some shield to protect duplicity.

I go deep because that is where I find the source of strength. In the reality that is below all the damn chatter. To find work that taps my heart instead of my very tired mind. The mind is what they want when we work – the mind. The body too. But my mind needs fuel. Needs rest. I can only feel so much, train so much, before I feel on fire again. It’s just inflammation, I think to myself. No, it’s fire. It’s fire in my veins and somehow it is the only thing available to me.

People liked me much better when I was depressed, I think. Perception maybe. But this is depression. This is where I go, where we all go, who feel overwhelmed. And this is why I continue to write and to share information for free – for those who do not, can not respond, or give me likes or loves or whatever validation. The place that is beneath tears. I speak to those people.

You can help us. Or you can give us advice. That we can take with our numbness mixed with fire blood. And make you feel better. We have become part of the continuum of accepted norms. I speak for souls in that place. And when I am whole, I will speak to that.

I know you all have struggled. I have no more grace to consider them though. All my grace is to keep me genuine and thoughtful. The rest is whatever.

Happy Saturday to me. Happy Saturday indeed.

I find very little encouragement in democracy today. I have been deeply hurt by “friends” who take more time to judge than to support. I wouldn’t blame them though because how the hell did I get to where I’m at. Why do I even care so much? What is my major problem?

I still think the laws of karma are good rules. I’ve branded my heart and soul with them. I aim to embody them. I see the world as infinite, as a projection of our ability to see the real reality.

I’m happy to see my friends’ list go down sometimes. Maybe it’s because I’m depressed. Maybe because they’re spam accounts that are parading as people – with fake profiles. Maybe we’re so in love with the lie because the truth scares us. Maybe I am.

I’m working on getting into a better place. I am not going to fake it till I make it. That is exhausting and ridiculous.

I am going to be how I am, intending that the remainder of my life is used constructively, productively, and most of all meaningfully and genuinely.

You don’t get to tell me how to be genuine. Just as you are my mirror, I am also your mirror – according to my world. And if the whole world is an extension of me, then I have some work to do.

(Publishing also on – I think the media and the people collaborate to create these monstrosities. It’s not blame-blame does nothing to fix the problem except make someone feel right and who cares about “right” when they’re in so much pain. It’s just a thing I consider reality that it takes two to tango. I check in every now and then on the news and it’s like clanging cymbals most of the time.)


Maybe I’m sick because the world seems too much at times. But that’s only because I’m tired and apparently need to find more empowered direction.

Or maybe just finally get tired of the fire blood and nausea – I am training now using R Phase from Z Health to rehabilitate my body which hurts all the time unless I am distracted by good company. I will not be positive just so others can feel better about themselves. I will make the cool things I’ve been dreaming, and whoever can keep up can keep up.

The rest of y’all, it’s been nice knowing ya.

I seek humanity where I can with what I have, on social media if that’s all I have energy to do.

I know that the people who know me well will understand. The others, I invite you to but you don’t have to. Besides, I voted for Trump*.

(*Because change – simple as that – and a test to the democracy and whether it will coral around a challenge or join the blamers and people who are in love with hating vulgarity. And Hillary pissed me off with her man-woman-confusion and obviously hedgy speech. Be direct, woman. If you want to lead and not just be a puppet that lets us think positive while we have a Dorian Gray situation going on in the attic. The fact that people voted for her because deception is better than vulgarity just blows my mind. But I get it. There’s a pathological fear of seeing the truth methinks.)

But then maybe I just made this all up. It’s the medication. Speaking of which, I am done my antibiotics regimen today. Maybe I will get on video later or post one.

I hope all those who judged me on cannabis use are happy too that I am now able to deal with fire blood better than be happy. Because God help me if I can smile during a hard time.

I’m about over that now. Positivity is not for free anymore.

(Picture is me with no eyebrows almost 2 years ago now – 2015. It snuck up on me so fast.)

If you would like to support me on my recovery journey from writing like this to writing in a team with a focus on improving children’s creative and literary skills through reading and storytelling programs I’m designing – instead of hearing this stuff – or either way – please support my current GoFundMe campaign here. Thank you.

Onward and Upward, Survivor

I yelled in my dream. Growled even. He claimed to be the victim even while he victimized. Intentionally. I felt trapped. I was tough. But my heart was made of blood and love, not peanut butter.

Still, when I have bad dreams and stressful nights I notice my fasting blood sugar goes up. 120 this morning.

I’m pre-divorce, a domestic crisis and breast cancer survivor with Hashimoto’s, an autoimmune disease. I have another surgery in Las Vegas, in January 2018, to complete breast reconstruction. (Let me mention, nipples too. It feels strange when I get cold.)

There is a lot to process. We don’t take leaps of faith often because of the fear of falling. I have already fallen. I have gotten back up. I have fallen again. Tumbling through life, turning the stumbles into a dance as best I can.

I seek a new dance.

This morning I felt the deep exhaustion, the heaviness. And then two lines came from a hymn I remember from my childhood, by Annie J Flint.

Kindly allow me to share this with you. I am Taoist but I cherish these beautiful words and the belief that feeling is prayer. I’m told that is more than enough to receive what we seek.

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
His power no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.

Written by Annie J Flint


To donate to my journey, visit my current campaign on GoFundMe.

Woo-hoo Writers & WordPress Community!


Pictures soon! But first a recap:

I have been spending most of my writing time on Facebook during my breast cancer recovery. It helped me develop the writer in me, in a space that was easy to use and had a high level of engagement. Ew, that sounds so metric-y. 😉

There are some conversations I would like to continue having – about things that matter to me about this amazing world we live in, like the preservation and expansion of what is good and beautiful, gentle, true, strong and curious.

There are stories that have not yet been told. Stories that don’t even know they are stories yet. Stories in the tissues of your body. Imaginations there is no way we can indulge with the bombardment of our attention through every insidious means available.

So maybe it’s time for me to share some stories in a new way. I’ve always loved and Tumblr. Self hosted is fine but when you really want to get clear on content, is a great choice with an awesome community – in my experience of course.

Tomorrow starts a new journey. I hope others will join me as we lift each other up in soul and spirit; it’s how we pick our bodies and lives up from the stumbles.

Today, I do what I can to prepare me for a better life performance tomorrow.

“Good, better, best; never let it rest; till your good is better, and your better best!”

If you are economically-minded, here is my latest no ‘poo Facebook post, inspired by this article about DIY Shampoo on Mind Body Green.   

#economical #organic #nopoo

Back to baking soda ‘poo and apple cider vinegar conditioner.

Interestingly, sham-poo has “sham” in it. 😛

The only sham I like is the pillowy kind.

It’s also funny that it’s called no poo, especially when I am all about the coffee enemas and stuff.

Language is fun.

Helicopter Bacteria is not!

Mentally, emotionally, I feel new. Happy to say I even started an actuarial science open course this weekend to understand more about insurance and healthcare as I look into my own transition from Medicaid going forward.

Clarity of numbers. Peaceful and still creative.

Physically, nausea comes in waves, especially when I don’t take breaks in time. Getting more organized again and learning to stop before I feel bad.

I certainly need to get in better shape but I am big time grateful for how far I have come. Thinking of going to one bigger meal, wim hoff breathing, and bone / organic wheat grass broth. Who knows though, I feel rapid changes – and I still tend to overburden myself which slows me down and hurts.

I am learning. Tomorrow, a new week.

I noted based on the forms I have filled out for assistance, that the word poverty is used. How far under the poverty line one is, etc. I’ll look those up again.

But as Coco Chanel once said, poverty is not the opposite of luxury; vulgarity is.

Or something like that. Quoting from memory.

I love luxury. Soft, durable, lovely things. Furry things. The luxury of stopping time in its track to remember that deep inside of me and thee, there is the start of an ocean of love, mystery and adventure.

I am just about there – and I know it’s not good politics to discuss strategy when you don’t know who all is really in your corner …

But that’s I think more along the lines of the art of war. I am more about the art of raw. 🙂

I feel like I am enough. Breathing in gratitude, breathing out gratitude.

Have a wonderful week. xx