Ambivalence

 Man's original food is the light of God;
           material food is not for him;
                    but from disease,
       his mind has fallen into delusion
that day and night he should eat only this food.
                He isle, weak, and faint:
             where is the food of by heaven
                     which has starry tracks?
               That is the food of the chosen,
           food eaten without fork or throat.

Rumi's Daylight 


   I have been negligent where posting to my blog is concerned.  It is not that I don't value the wonderful opportunity of having an international theatre for voicing my issues and concerns; the fact is that at times emotionally, spiritually and physical, I need to direct my energies toward creative healing matters like meditations, massage and prayer.

     With that being stated, I must also acknowledge the fact that avoidance and denial are still a factor in my attempt of full recovery.  One of the most important elements of progress toward recovery is having the ability to be grateful. It's a rainy day where I currently live.  A misty, drizzle which has lowered the previously scorching temperature.  Just yesterday, the extreme heat zapped my physical energy leaving many outdoor chores incomplete.  Early this morning with a wide smile on my face, I grabbed my umbrella, eagerly left my apartment, anticipating a favorable interaction with the day.

     I, of course, was very pleased with the thirty degrees decrease in temperature, especially since,  as a way of contributing to the community in which I live, two day a week, I volunteer and deliver meals for the Visiting Nurse Associations' Meals-on-Wheels program.  My volunteer efforts are also a way of me getting away from my personal introspection and viewing life from outside of a mental encasement.  Thoughts, like rain, can saturate. 

     Prior to being used in the Mk-Ultra Project, I was a very successful woman.  Since I possessed a very high IQ, I was entered into an accelerated educational program by age eleven or twelve.  I have only fragmented remnants of those educational years, but, oddly, I remember one lecture type classroom, one professor, one blackboard which occupied the entire front wall of the room and one classmate, a prior friend.

     Although, gratitude pulsates through my daily thoughts, on a secondary level, I question the injustice which is a constant seam in my life.  In the concept of recovery, it is impossible to regain the loss years. The years when I could not be one of the primary influences in raising my children.  The long period of time when my gifted talents lay dormant. The years away from precious friends to say nothing about parents, a husband and most especially self.

     For a while I was having sessions with a psychiatrist and he asked me one day who did I miss the most.  When I responded, "Me"'  after making the comment, I immediately enquired, "Does that make me sound self-center or vain."
    
     "No," Doctor Miller responded, 'That is exactly the answer you should have given."

     I am currently working with an editor with the objective of having my manuscript published within a year or less.  It is important, not exclusively for the survivors, but for each society that wants a civilized and humane management of its judicial system to know and to acknowledge governmental misconduct and inhumane practices.  Humanity has such enormous potential, I question why the masses  allow a demonic few to corrupt and deface our  ethos.