Darn you Universe, you’re good.

I had all hopes of this blog fazing out by not renewing my credit card. Today I looked at my statement and the payment went through. Amazed by not giving the right information, by some odd chance the universe wants me to continue writing. My labradite pendulum had a message that I needed to push through my self doubts. In meditation, I had been seeing Freya lead me in the direction to finding my true purpose. No matter how much I really wanted to quit there was too many universal forces at play.

Last week I felt defeated by a blood bond who has made it her passion to try and cause chaos. My old self, the hidden girl wanted to quit. We had dreams of walking backwards. In our dreams we held hands back to our mental cage: the cage in which we built during our childhood to deal with mental wounds. I asked the small hidden girl if she was sure this was the right path. To give up once again because the wounds had been opened wide. She looked unsure as this possibly was the path we so often choose instead of facing the fear of darkness. I remember seeing the road looked worn and faded. I have mentally walked this road and metaphysically walked this road to its final resting place. Not only that, but I looked at the hidden girl her face filled with tears, I said to her in the dream “no more child we are free.”

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I awoke from that deep meditation place only to have more questions. I needed to seek guidance of forces not from this realm. Choosing to invoke Freya and Odin I called upon them. I offered my growing sunflower, salt, cinnamon, and cedar. I dawned my white fawn mask and took off my clothes. Invoking feels right if I offer my spirit and earthly body in the way it was made. I did two rituals that night one was to cleanse my room of any negative energies meant to cause harm. Opening the circle with elements I began to feel the power flow. Enveloping myself with white light I had a forethought to write down the words flowing in my mind.

I felt that I needed to put cleaned water in my chalice. I placed pink salt in the water with cedar droplets. Stirring in the water these words had come to me.

 Oh fearless knight, make things right
 Stand guard for tonight, basked in moonlight
 Protect my home, may the wanderless not roam
 Oh fearless knight, make things right
 So blessed be, so mote it be. 

I had written down the incantation on a white envelope. It only felt right to place the spell under the chalice for a whole day and night. The next invocation that came and with my intentions was for Freya and Odin to guide me down the path of understatement. To guide me to meet the knight guarding my best kept secrets. To unlock my vault of fear. My last request before giving thanks was to guide me in the path of the warrior I have always been & to have the knowledge to accept that fate. In my state of mind I saw Freya and Bridget standing in the mountains with light around them. A raven flew overhead with piercing eyes. My voice had been heard. I gave many thanks for their gifts and knowledge. When I closed my circle I felt different more connected to the elements of my soul than ever before.

Odd things have happened since the invocation. Explanations are beyond rational, but I found I have family I’ve never met who also is spiritual. When anyone brings up my birth giver I feel less attached to react but to continue walking in the path that was made by the universe. My dreams have become clear in messages of things I’ve ignored, and I started to embrace grief as an old friend. Spiritually I feel less blocked in my intuition and inner knowledge. All that was meant to be is happening the signs are there. I was not meant to give up and be defeated by the evil spirit meant to cause harm.

Written by Ali Johnson

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F**k This Year and Everything With It.

My title says it all, fuck this year and everything with it. I’m swearing and normally, I would not in my writing. To be candid I’m over this year and the crap that came packing with it. This year has brought pain, annoyances, and entitled people. I have never seen people act crudely towards others as much as this year. I’m appalled at the behaviour we are all displaying!

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Somehow in the last few years we were moving in a strong direction to treat others with kindness. I noticed a phenomenal uptick in people accepting others. We were becoming more aware of differences and embracing it. Different was refreshing like a sweet tea. I don’t know what happened to that direction because I feel like the world through it down the garberator and shredded the humanity we had.

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It can’t be fully blamed on lockdown and the Coronavirus. We’re using that as an excuse to treat others like utter garbage. I’m over it and it’s time to call out the b.s. of others and the world being trash and acting entitled over people. Our world is divided right now, and we are going backwards. Instead of learning about history and how to be better, we are trying to erase it and make a new narrative. That horrified me: because without history we are doomed to repeat past mistakes. History and the past is disgusting, it is riddled with human error and stories that show the dark side of humanity. Looking at where we are now in history we are really not setting up future children for the brighter side. We are losing culture, we are losing respect, we undoubtedly are losing good qualities and lessons to teach. Whether it be political or racial; or it will be acceptance and understanding, how are actions and choices are right now doesn’t make face to what needs to happen.

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I’m a housekeeper and I know that I’m on the lower totem pole of life. In the past few months I have been dealing with people. I’m appalled at how money and lifestyles is division. I have been yelled at. My life has been threatened by bad customers. I’ve had customers try to scam me for money then threaten my family. Words and actions have been done that are seemingly unfair. I’m not fine with how I see division from wealthy people treat people like me trying to run a business. There is no question to the division. I’ve also been called a filthy Albertan in Ontario. This is our country: we share it with all different cultures and religions. Canada and other countries are a cooking pot of diversity and were fucking it up on trying to get people united to move into the future. I’ve had more bad customers than good. I’m fully seeing the division and misunderstandings that is leading to entitlement.

From riots to poor government and people with cellphones is this what we want our future to show? Losing friendships and community because unless it’s a mass opinion we need shame others for their thoughts. Now I’m not saying you get to hate others for their sexual orientation or the skin that they are born in. I’m also highly against us allowing sexual predators to have more rights than their victims. In this year alone I have noticed a trend: you are not allowed the right to free thinking. Generally speaking, if you think beyond what is being told, others will feel free to be judged, jury, executioner. Humans are not showing we are capable of putting our pitchforks down. Instead, we now do virtual lynch mobs. Has our god dam common sense gone down the drain?

It is not about me, it is not about you, it is about getting better. All of our human shit needs to collected up and let’s be better. Do Better. We are better than this. Get it together people of 2020, or we are going to be in a disturbingly rough ride for the future.

Written by Ali Johnson

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Dear Dad (Thoughts on building a relationship with my dad in adulthood.)

Dear Dad,

I called you last week to vent about picking up my sons medication. You calmly talked me down from the cliff of despair. Being who you are I don’t know how you do it. Talk calmly to me when I feel like a mess of a human being. I’m not always a mess dad, but I feel like one sometimes because I’m learning to be a parent. Even though its water under the bridge I get sad sometimes because you are being more of a dad now than when I needed you the most.

I still get sad on Father’s Day when women share stories of times their fathers spent with them. Not that you didn’t spend the odd time with me. We had Taco Bell and the Monkey Forrest. We had the weird shop of your friends who sold interesting things like taro cards and a homey smell of sandalwood. There were times of listening to music which created my love for Rob Zombie and Smashing Pumpkins. The moments we had spent together were fine because it helped shape my interest. Some Fathers go fishing and camping trips but ours was outings. I think the main part of hearing stories of fathers who would do anything for their daughters is that it’s not our relationship. I don’t know if it ever will be. That’s ok though because in the last couple of years you have gained my respect.

Sometimes I struggle with your fear of my special needs child. You don’t say it out loud however some slight comments make me worried. Yes, your grandson has Autism and Juvenile Arthritis. Is it terrifying? Absolutely, I’m terrified of it too. My terrified is different because I feel like a failure when it comes to helping my child with disabilities. That’s why I try to call you because possibly, you would be able to treat me like a normal person. You see, when you’re a special needs parent your either treated like a superhero or your treated with apologies. What people forget to treat a special needs parent is with empathy and understanding that we love our kids but sometimes it’s a blurred line with doctors, medications, therapist, and school. I value you Dad, for putting words to my feelings, and I know I complain a fair bit when I get frustrated about the whole situation. Please don’t be scared of your grandson and please see the little boy that he is. He’s neurotypical and complex, but he is loving and intelligent. Creative and filled with brilliant ideas far beyond his time. You have only met him twice and you have not met your other grandson; but I think if you give them a chance to know them, you would see the parts of you in there too.

I know I was complicated much like my son, and that was terrifying for you. You were not ready for me when I was born. I get that because I had my oldest at nineteen and you were in your twenties. Here’s the thing even though I wasn’t ready I still try to be there for my kids. You did get better with my sisters and you learned to be a dad to them. I remember somebody once asked me how mad I felt that you learned to be a dad to someone else. Feeling mad is not how I would describe it. I do feel pride for you because you still grew as a person. You keep growing and I see the changes you have made in the last ten years. In ten years I have seen you as a lost person, and now I see you as a strong human being. Hearing you say that you found a new job or did something exciting makes me feel like you are finally where you need to be.

What I really want to say to you and I struggle to say it sometimes, I’m happier now knowing you than when I knew you as a kid. I’m not angry at you anymore because the dad I get now is a good dad who is trying. Giving a second chance wasn’t easy to do but I’m happy I didn’t walk away from you and we still found a way to communicate. Please don’t give up on me because I don’t want to give up on you.

I love you Dad,

Ali Johnson

There is no manual in abuse

my grandfather was sick I got the call last Monday. I thought things would be ok and hope for the best. The sinking feeling in my stomach was call him. The other side of me struggled to bring myself too it.

I called today: I rang the familiar number that never changes. The pit in my stomach grew larger and the wave of unrefined anger rushed out. I hate calling that number and I would hate it even more if she answered. Reminding myself it’s only for my grandfather and I did not have to speak with the demon. His voice answered, and then he didn’t understand whose voice it was. I felt the pang of guilt for walking away when I did. Not only did I leave her I left him behind too. I still feel it was the right thing to do.

We tried small chit-chat about his health. You could cut the tension with a knife it was awkward. I’m still angry as he is still angry. There’s no upside to this pent-up anger. There’s no manual to abusive childhoods and how you supposed to feel. He asked me about my kids and I tried to give small answers. I protect my children at all cost and I feel deep down the devil should never know them. She had us as kids and what she did was unforgivable. I vowed to never let them go through that. I wish I could share the love of my kids with him but there’s one person who stops that.

The line came up asking why I never call. I said I wish to not speak to Laurie. Sickening to even give her name. In the cliché of flying monkey conversation he said if you are mad at her then you might as well be mad at me too.” In the manual of abuse this means I will stand blind to your abuser and not acknowledge what she did. How can someone stand behind what she did? She drugged, lied, hurt, and destroyed the minds of innocent children. She created monsters in their heads. The manual doesn’t cover that abuse wounds never heal properly. They only grow larger and deeper.

He then asked about my dad and my other grandparents with spite. I was so internally angry because my other family are trying. This long battle between them should be put to rest. My grandfather stated he leaves him alone, and they leave him alone and that’s the way he likes it. There is an unspoken dialogue hanging in the air about a battle no one won. The devil tried so hard to destroy their spirit and lie about the truth. She tried to brainwash a child into hating people. It didn’t work and the dirt on everyone’s knees never came clean.

There is no manual to how I feel right now. There’s no book that can teach me the zen of blocking it out. I walked away long ago and I never looked back. Calling in today was not an olive branch. I froze when I really wanted to say my peace. The anger I feel is fire and I really want to douse it with water. There’s no manual, no rules, no truth to it all. I cannot understand how one path in life could be damming when everything else falls in place.

Written by Ali Johnson