Who's Who at Knudsen Park

[Written on my iPhone notes app]

Today (5/11/16 2:00 pm) at Knudsen Park I've seen a hunky Latino reading a book on a bench, a couple younger men passing a joint on a bench, an older man in a blue linen blazer measuring the centerpiece tree, a woman enjoying a soda, a man laying on a bench in the shade, a guy with spiked hair and Egyptian looking eye tatts (only the line extensions were drawn downward vs. continued across the sides of the face on the outer eyes) wearing black backpack, red tee, shorts and heavy metal chain as a necklace riding a yellow and orange mountain bike, a woman with a hot pink head scarf wearing a black burka praying toward Mecca, three guys congregating, smoking weed behind me and just heard a woman ask them if they have a lighter (though I did not see her).

The sleeping man just awoke, he's wearing black pants, tee and leather jacket, has longer, shaggy hair and a beard-goatee combo. He's now smoking something and coughing a bit, now making a call and overheard saying something about a housing program. As Carlin says, homes are just places where we store our stuff. A heavy set woman with large breasts wearing long, brown hair, pants and eyewear frames in a tight white top just walked through the corner of the park on her phone. I've been on my phone quite a bit since I've been here, too.

A clean cut man wearing dark shades, a charcoal gray polo and light blue shorts just wandered in with his lunch and sat where the woman had been enjoying her soda. A short, heavyset woman just wandered in with her lunch and sat on the concrete barrier surrounding the base of the centerpiece tree. This park is situated in a circular formation with a ring of well manicured trees and benches surrounding a large, dark red leafed centerpiece tree that's much taller than anything else directly around it. Few places are more well manicured than this. I'd rather be nowhere else right this moment. It's a beautiful, warm, sunny and peaceful day in Seattle ...

As I was leaving a woman in a light blue plaid short sleeve top pushed her two sleeping toddlers in on a stroller toward the three congregated stoners who just disbanded. She is now seated next to the other woman on the centerpiece barrier. All you can hear are the swooshing of cars passing on the adjacent MLK Jr. Way arterial, maybe the occasional car stereo with windows down.

It's quieter in my counselor's waiting room, just the occasional commercial toilet flush or shuffle of feet on carpet along with an oddly low volume digital Emerson alarm clock radio playing Rush's Tom Sawyer with a sticky note next to it asking please not to turn it off. The woman who walked through the corner of the park on her phone just walked slowly through the waiting room reading her phone and quietly entered the door at the other end of the room. The station moved onto The Politics of Dancing and it's time for my appt.

The Honourable Jean-Marie de Montague

Rhododendron^{[pronunciation?]} (from Ancient Greek ῥρόδον rhódon "rose" and δέντρο déndro "tree")^[3][4] is a genus of 1,024 species of woody plants in the heath family (Ericaceae), either evergreen or deciduous, and found mainly in Asia, although it is also widespread throughout the Southern Highlands of the Appalachian Mountains of North America. It is the national flower of Nepal. Most species have showy flowers which bloom from late winter through to early summer.

Thanks, Wikipedia!

The Coast Rhododendron is Washington's official state flower. Archibald Menzies discovered the Coast Rhododendron in 1792 when he and George Vancouver landed near present day Port Discovery.

Why am I writing about Rhododendron's? They're just about everywhere I look, they're starting to really blossom and I love it! Springtime in Western Washington is one of the most beautiful seasons and places to enjoy it. My yard has at least a dozen or so well established Rhododendrons, as does my neighbors' right across the street.

Tedd was out tending to his yard when I arrived home a short while ago. He was pruning back a yucca, which I don't understand why one would have such a plant in the Pacific Northwest. Anyway, Tedd is a character. Very bright, from an engineering background. Long story short, his family were some of the early settlers and founders of our town. He and his wife Vickie have lived in that house for about 30 years, maybe more. They are such lovely people.

When it comes to plans, Tedd is a veritable encyclopedia. He seems to know about every species of Rhododendron. Today I admired his giant red one at the very peak of its bloom. He told me it is called The Honourable Jean-Marie de Montague, which I had to say repeatedly in my head and then a couple times out loud to Tedd before I could remember it.

I wanted more info. on this specie, so I did some online research:

This cultivar's long name, 'The Honorable Jean Marie de Montague,' is generally shortened to 'Jean Marie de Montague' or simply 'Jean Marie' for sake of practicality or affection. But it is charming to find it not only listed in such important overviews as Greer's Guide to Available Rhododendrons by its fuller name, but actually alphabetized under the word "The."

Developed in Holland by C. B. van Nes & Sons about 1901 (though not in general production until the 1930s) 'Jean Marie' was for decades regarded as the best of all red rhododendrons. When the buds have matured, there is no more perfect red in existance. The flowers open to a slightly paler red, with faint freckles on the inner uppmost petal.
There you have it! And here's a photo:

Washington's Democratic Caucuses Undemocratic

It’s a cool 44 degrees Fahrenheit Saturday morning in Normandy Park, a wooded hamlet on the southwest end of liberal-dominated Seattle. I’m standing in line out front of our local elementary school, feeling a chill more than the Bern. At 9:11 a.m. I receive a text from a campaign volunteer, which essentially stated:

“It’s going to be close, so we need everyone to show up! Doors open at 9am. Do you have a plan to get to the caucus?”

Many of us were already there, standing out in the cold for a good 45 minutes before being allowed to enter the building. At least it wasn’t raining.

I was the first from my precinct to sit at our assigned long “Orange Is The New Black” cafeteria-style table, joined shortly thereafter by another fellow around my age-ish. I’m just a tad over 40. We also had in common this being our first-ever caucus.

Another 10 or so minutes went by. We had been instructed to wait patiently until everyone was seated in their correct precinct location. The room buzzed with caucus-goers socializing and slowly making their way to their precinct tables. Then the announcements started, the warmest from a woman volunteer:

“Thank you all for coming,” she said. “I am so glad to see so many of my liberal neighbors. It’s quite a departure from the conservative loud-mouths I’m used to seeing around this town.”

The full gymnasium erupted into laughter and applause, a group of people united by ideology, despite their presidential candidate choice.

Once instructions were orated, a volunteer man who chairs the organizing committee lead us in the Pledge of Allegiance. After “indivisible” he said, “with justice and liberty for all,” during which time the room garbled the last verse. Some said it the way it’s always been said and written. Others changed and followed the leader who transposed two words.

Each table had about 20 people and I’d say our caucus location had about 200-300 people turn out in total. At our table, which is our precinct, one person volunteered to be our coordinator. She took charge of a prepared agenda and read through each item, checking it off as she went along. She told us we have four total delegates and anyone who did not bring in or had forgotten their registration form was able to complete one.

After everyone completed their registration forms, which require the participant to name the candidate of their choosing, the forms were tallied by another participant at our table. We had nine precinct participants vote for one candidate and ten precinct participants vote for the other candidate. So that’s 43% of the vote in favor of one candidate and 57% of the vote in favor of the other candidate. Each candidate received 50% of the delegates.

Wait a minute. So one delegate received more direct votes and they share an equal number of actual delegates? How is that accurate? How is that representative? How is that democratic? The simple answer; it’s not.

After the votes were tallied, our coordinator divided us up by candidate. Participants for one candidate on this side of the table and participants for the other on that side. Then she gave everyone at the table an opportunity to speak on behalf of their candidate to try influencing others to change their vote. Two people spoke for one candidate, including our precinct/table coordinator, and four people spoke for the other. No one changed their vote.

Next came the final delegate count, and the four delegates from our precinct are selected along with four alternates, which can be done by volunteer or nomination. I was nominated to be a delegate, and am required to participate in the Legislative District Caucuses on April 17, 2016. Each delegate received a small, rectangular yellow form where they fill in their identifying information. This small form is then our ticket into the Legislative District Caucuses, where we have an opportunity to further influence delegate votes in favor of one candidate or the other.

This is followed by our County Conventions on May 1, 2016, followed by Congressional District Caucuses on May 21, 2016, followed by the State Convention in Tacoma on June 18, 2016 and finally followed by the National Convention in Philadelphia from July 25-28, 2016. During each of these events delegates can influence other delegates.

We want to believe every vote counts, and that our presence matters. Clearly throughout the caucus process every vote does not count. If anything I’m feeling the disenfranchisement.

Remembering the 2001 Nisqually Quake

Sunday morning I'm reminded of the big Nisqually earthquake in 2001 from a Facebook post by Vintage King County. They posted the following news link: http://komonews.com/news/local/look-back-nisqually-quake-15-years-later

I remember this quake well. I was on the ground floor of the Banner Building in Seattle's Belltown neighborhood, on the phone with a contractor who was across the lake in Bellevue. I was facing out our large, near floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at what is now the Vine Bldg. Then the land had just been scraped in preparation for construction. I saw a backhoe raise up and down, followed by a mound of dirt raising up and down and another backhoe raised up and down. Western Avenue rippled with a huge wave, like surf rolling in. I thought for a split moment I may have been hallucinating, it just looked so surreal. Then the reality dawned on me. No sooner had I said to the contractor I had on the phone "I think we're having an earthquake," the wave rolled into my office. The solid concrete floor I stood upon began to warp and wave like JELL-O. I asked the contractor (who mind you was less than eight miles away) to hold, and placed the call on park. Just then my office manager ran up to me in hysterics asking me repeatedly whether to stay inside or go outside. Realizing we had many stories of glass facing looming over us, I urged her not to go outside. She bolted out the door. I then staggered to the back of our office see how my other three colleagues were faring. They were huddled under their desks. To lighten the mood I placed my hand against a concrete pillar, supporting the thick, solid concrete loft platform directly above us and said "I'm going to stand below the most fabulous beam in all of ArtSource." Just then the upper floors really began to creak and groan loudly. Suddenly my heart went from light to heavy with a surge of panic. And just as quickly the ground movement ceased. My colleagues came out from their desks. Our office manager came back inside unscathed. Come to find out, the contractor I placed on hold had held the line and we resumed our conversation. Had the quake's epicenter been closer to the surface, we may have had a very different outcome that day. Grateful the impact spared us. Tagged: Kelly, Nantini, Sam, Tina

Smudging

Mystics say the Native American practice of smudging, or purifying a room with the smoke of sacred herbs, can help clear negative energy from a space. The apparent benefits are steeped in science—when burned, sage and other herbs release negative ions, which research has linked to a more positive mood.

 

On occasion I like to smudge my home. Regardless of spiritual or ceremonial implications, I actually enjoy the way my home smells afterward; a little hippie-dippy.

Thursday afternoon was the last time I indulged this practice. I've been feeling less than stellar this past week, and it's something I've been meaning to do since our last house guest departed.

First I cleaned house. My kitchen was a mess, so I got that in order, tidied up the rest of the space (a never-ending chore). Then I referenced an online "how to", and proceeded to start with cleansing myself in the farthest, lower room in my house, which is the basement utility room.

I wrapped myself in sage smoke from toe to head in clockwise, then counterclockwise circles while saying a prayer. The prayer was about clearing negative energy, thought form, ideas or attachments never to return. After I finished clearing myself, I went through the rest of my house, going around each door and window as well as filling each corner with smoke. I continued repeating the prayer.

When I reached my lower floor bedroom, our dog came out from under the covers to see me. So I cleared her, too. After, she burrowed back under the covers and I went on to finish the room, closet and adjacent bath. Just as I was finishing the bath and about to re-enter the hallway to the bedroom door, our dog sprang out from the bed, charging into the hallway barking as though she were chasing someone. I nearly leaped out of my skin!

After smudging the rest of the house, I felt better, calmer. The next day our dog started having loose stool and has been a bit unwell. I started feeling a bit more blah yesterday and today a bit unwell, too. I feel like either I didn't do something right or perhaps this is part of the bad juju making its way out of our systems. One can only hope ...

Smart Meters Threaten All Life As We Know It

Ever stop to ponder our modern day and think to yourself, "Geez, the world has become a really weird place since 911."? You're not alone.

Environmental depletion, mass extinction, pollution ... Lack of clean air, water, food ... Mass disease and starvation. Corporations attempting to control most every aspect of our lives, including food and water. The world has never been a more toxic place.

Just when you thought there was enough ill in the world, your electric utility company is set to deploy something that you absolutely must be aware of. Introducing the "smart" meter, the revolutionary way our governing powers intend to fry us and be involved in every aspect of our lives.

According to my local electric utility Seattle City Light, more than 500 utilities across the nation already use this technology, with 50 million advanced meters installed at 43 percent of American households (Institute for Electric Innovation, 2014). So that must make it OK right? Wrong.

These meters emit Radio-Frequency (RF) radiation up to thousands of times greater than mobile devices, the health/safety hazards of which is still under-studied and/or under-disseminated. Further, these advanced meters, as they are also referred, have the ability to communicate with every piece of hardware or appliance in our homes and relay that info. back to the utility as well as third parties interested in knowing our personal whereabouts. That game gesturing technology is awesome, right? Depends on what it's being used for. Playing games. Government spying, detecting our every action, thought and mood. Talk about Orwellian dystopia. It's more like a horrible nightmare.

This subject recently came to my attention at a group meeting for Lyme disease patients such as myself. One of the attendees is organizing a community group to stop these smart meters from being deployed in their Seattle neighborhood. I don't want them in mine, either.

Today I called down to city hall in the small, suburban Seattle town in which I reside. I spoke with community outreach manager Amanda about this issue. She mentioned our town has no cell phone towers, and this is by design. She's going to look into this issue with the city manager as well as their utility contacts and get back with me early next week. Amanda said if we don't have anything on the books, I may be invited to speak to city council about this issue.

If you wish to further educate yourself on this subject, I highly recommend this site and documentary: www.takebackyourpower.net

My headline may seem a bit dramatic. Watch the documentary and then you decide whether it actually is ...

Stroll Down College Memory Lane

My college newspaper celebrates its 100 year anniversary in 2016. My department put out an open call for some of our prominent memories while we were on staff at the paper. We're to submit a 250-350 word anecdote to be used as part of an interactive timeline. Here's mine:

The Mustang Daily diligently reported about important issues and prominent people of our time, even as fledgling student writers. Dennis Peron was my first notable interview. He was a legend in San Francisco politics as well as a close friend and political associate of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man on the city board of supervisors. Peron was also an avid AIDS activist, author of the successful California Proposition 215 (which legalized medical marijuana in the state and ignited a national movement) and a Republican candidate for California Governor.

Peron was expected at the October 1997 San Luis Obispo County hemp rally to promote the herb’s compassionate medical use as well as his candidacy for governor. I called him at his San Francisco home to make an introduction ahead of the event. Peron appeared to be really won over by this and he was instantly disarmed. He completely opened up to me, sharing very personally about his life partner who died of AIDS as well as the horrors he experienced on the battle field during the Tet Offensive in Vietnam. I listened intently. In this moment I stopped being a student and started being a journalist. This is what Cal Poly’s “learn by doing” philosophy is all about.

Reporters from practically every news outlet in the region were at the rally to report on it and grab a few quotes/actualities from Peron about his gubernatorial campaign. When I greeted Peron, he regarded me as though we had been long time friends. He spoke to me exclusively and refused to give any other reporter an interview at that time. All cameras were turned on us sitting on the county courthouse lawn where we talked. All the while I feverishly scribbled notes onto my reporter’s pad, trying to maintain as natural a conversation flow as possible. That was a thrill. Having earned Peron’s trust and respect, especially as an inexperienced student, was priceless.

Never underestimate the power of human connection. Forming relationships is fundamental to success. No one does it all on their own. This will make all the difference wherever you steer your career.

Pharma Bro, Karma Bro

The idea that a human being can carelessly, or possibly even maliciously, steal from the sick and dying ... It's beyond greed. It's the worst kind of sinister.

I think the Cock, excuse me, Koch Brothers have a new recruit. Let's get him behind bars before he can commit any further crimes against humanity.

The ugly irony here is some of the congressional leaders grilling this guy, well they support and defend the exact same kind of "free market," capitalistic greed this guy was engaged in. And he was only arrested when he defrauded white collar investors. So ...

IOWA COIN TOSS

What are the chances of winning six coin tosses in a row?
#Rigged

p.s. When the people lead, the leaders will follow ...

PO Talk

Years and years ago, the old me, who was ironically the younger version of me, was the type of person who found joy in even the most mundane of tasks. I'd strike up conversation with perfect strangers, my days always felt so bright.

As I've grown older, and sunk deeper into the throngs of my responsibilities as a small business owner, I've erroneously strayed away from that part once so core to my former self.

Today, however, a glimpse of the old "young" me returned at the counter of the Burien post office branch no less. The nicest woman helped me. I remembered her from a previous time around the holidays, when the office was jam-packed with people shipping and mailing all there holiday who knows whats. She wasn't very nice to me then. If I had to handle all those pensive people, one after another, for hours on end, I wouldn't be very nice to me either, even if I was Pope Benedict.

So our conversation starts in the usual way. She asks me how I'm doing. I said well, thank you, how's your day going? She told me it was going well, she was just about done for the day, and it's her Monday. I smiled. She smiled.

Madonna's 'Everybody' was playing on the overhead speakers as background music. Out of nowhere she exclaims, "I LOVE MADONNA! This song, oh it takes me back. I think this was on her very first album, which I had on vinyl - I think I also had it on eight track. This was back when music was good, really good. Those were some good times ..." she ended a bit wistfully.

Believe me, I know great artists bring people together. Am I a racist for being a little bit surprised a middle aged black woman was into Madonna?

"Ah yes," I said. "The 1980s. What a great time to be alive. That was a time when optimism flowed freely through pop culture. We did have some incredible music back then, didn't we."

Sidebar. I recently read an article about older music outselling new music for the first time in history. True story.

We continued bantering back and forth while she weighed and stamped each of my large letters. I remarked about being just a kid when this album debuted, a simpler time before having a real job. She let out a laugh and told me she was working her first job out of high school for the government. I asked what area. She proudly revealed for the department of defense. I asked her what she did for them. She was a paper shredder, working for minimum wage at $1.60 per hour at the base in Sand Point. I smiled, and she laughed a bit more considering what a measly sum that is by today's standards.

She asked if I grew up around here. I told her I did out in Issaquah. She asked if I graduated Issaquah High, to which I confirmed I had. She asked what year. I told her 92. She laughed again and told me I'm just a baby, she was 18 by then and she graduated in 1974 from Roosevelt. I asked if she lived in the Burien area. No, Skyway. She grew up in the Central District.

For a time she was in law school at Seattle College before it became Seattle University. She said thought she should have started at a two year school first, and she rushed to get out into the real world. I acknowledged when we were younger we were always in a hurry to grow up. And now that we're older, how we wish things could be how they were before we were tied down by our adult responsibilities.

She said she's now been with the post office for 30 years. I said it must be treating her fairly well for her to stay that long. She agreed it has been good. I asked what area of law she was studying to practice. She said corporate law. Her uncle was a corporate lawyer. She then said with a big smile by now she would be retired from her corporate practice on her own private island. That was her dream. I told her it's great to dream and it's never too late until it's too late.

I really felt a sense of connection today with this near perfect stranger. Near perfect because I recall having seen her at least once before. While we were bantering back and forth, someone came in to drop off a large basket of letters. I said hi to Lynn, and she greeted him back and asked how he was doing. So as we were saying our goodbyes I called her by name and told her to have a great rest of her day. She sure made mine!

Lyme Disease: I'm not alone

Spent a good portion of the afternoon today at my first social gathering with other Lyme patients. I feel so much more connected as a result. It was so helpful to share with other people who deal with the same challenges. A very positive environment.

People were real, too. I heard similar stories of faded and lost friendships, the taboo of sharing about one's illness with healthy people, having only enough bandwidth for work and home, the inability to predict when one will be feeling well in relation to making future plans, etc.

I found this group to be kind, empathetic, candid and enjoyable. And this disease plays on my vulnerability as an outsider. As an adoptee I was an outsider in my family. As a multi-ethnic person I was an outsider in my community. As a person who is sexually oriented as gay I was an outsider in my society. As an person with a disease I have been an outsider, even to myself I once knew.

If you have Lyme and you're in the Seattle area, you're in luck. There's a growing community of people who care and can help support your journey: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1404264989826493/members/

Wake Up to Reality ...

A 1981 description of the world as it exists today ...

Woody Harrelson Nails It!

Wise words from a wise man ...http://upliftconnect.com/thoughts-from-within/

I felt more connected after reading this. Overlooking the distraction of our current dystopian reality, one realizes they are not the only one who can see beyond the veil of lies and greed. We are not alone. We ARE one ...

X-Files Re-Opened My Struggle

I fucking loved this new episode and am so excited about the reboot of X-Files!!

Browsing some of the Facebook posts about last night's premiere season 10 episode, the New York Times critic seems to think the story had problems, but it was great for nostalgia sake. OK, they're entitled to their opinion as I am to mine. Here goes ... I am not in the least bit surprised this episode failed to resonate with the old, and I mean antiquated, establishment rag such as the New York Times.

The overarching theme of the episode, and the new direction the show is exploring is around government mistrust and abuse.

For viewers, and especially die hard X-Files fans, I believe this theme resonates so well. Why? Because it feels like the truth, and its mechanics are well placed in our reality of present day. Multi-national companies profiting off the deliberate over consumption of resources, those claiming they are feeding the world when they are starving it and taking away humanity's most basic rights to clean air, water and food.

I thought it was really excellent the show went in this direction because of the profoundly dire and actual insights this holds. I'm actually a bit surprised the show was so bold. Let's face it, truth is often stranger than fiction. So is this all really that far fetched?

I can imagine the hidden powers that be, whether corporate/military industrial complex/government, would find this broadcast at the very least a little unsettling. People are becoming increasingly aware and intolerant of the insidious greed which plagues us all.

Great Words from a Man Famous for Silent Action

Stumbled upon this treasure today. It's inspiring, optimistic, honest and truthful ...

[Best Version] The Great Dictator Speech - Charlie Chaplin + Time - Hans Zimmer (INCEPTION Theme)

Life Lessons

I'm in a quiet house, enjoying the solitude. My bestie phoned earlier. She and her fiancé are at odds. They met in April 2014, were engaged by August 2014, moved in together September 2014, became pregnant in October 2014 and their child was born May 2015.

No doubt their relationship developed at break-neck speed. Now that my bestie's head has stopped spinning, she's coming to that realization as well. Successful relationships take time to evolve, to create a foundation of trust, love and mutual understanding. This is something I believe to be deeply lacking in their relationship, from an outsider's perspective. And from being an outsider who is in a committed relationship, a marriage with a strong foundation.

My bestie and her fiancé had been seeing a couple's counselor. Her fiancé's attitude about it was that it was really just for her, it's too expensive and he doesn't see the point. Her mindset is this is intended to help support them in creating a healthy, long-lasting, mutually beneficial relationship. Until their intentions are aligned, they won't be creating much of anything productive together.

As an outsider, I see a pattern emerge from my bestie's relationship challenges. She feels as though she's doing most of the heavy lifting. From what I've seen I would agree with that assessment. She feels as though he is an empty shell at times, as though there's no one really there below the surface. I see how he is very checked out at times. He is inattentive to her, to their household with the exceptions of himself and their baby. She wants to do for him because it's her way of showing affection, that she cares for him. He once told her he doesn't bring her flowers very often because he doesn't want to spoil her. This seems he's coming from a place quite juxtaposed to the place she's coming from. Truth be known, it is really through giving we receive.

I have warned my bestie about this pattern whereby he's bringing very little to the table, she calls him out and over time they have a blow out. That approach isn't working.

Her fiancé is a very frequent weight lifter. It's almost as though he has built an armor around himself, as though he's trying to protect himself, protect his heart. My bestie has a similar quality around a fear of vulnerability, of being hurt, of her heart being broken. She's historically maintained a tactic of leaving the relationship before the other person has a chance to.

Below everyone's surface, everyone's ego, is a purely amazing, loving and lovable being. Peeling the layer of one's ego away can be a painful process. It shakes us up and puts us well outside of our comfort zone. And this is how we grow mentally and more important spiritually. No pain, no gain.

The over arching lesson from all this is one I can wholeheartedly relate to. It's the lesson my incurable disease has shown me, one my Lyme literate naturopath warned me about. Life is sending a clear message to slow down. If the lesson isn't learned this time around, it will be taught again under much more challenging of circumstances.

Let us all take some time to unwind, decompress, slow down and be kind to ourselves. We owe it to each other and ourselves to do so ...

World's Wealthiest, Most Powerful

Cute cartoon, the message not so much. Most of us are unaware of the powers that be. Sometimes ignorance is bliss ...

The Curse of Chief Seattle

According to my 'This Day in History' widget, in 1773 Captain James Cook crossed the Antarctic Circle. Something I find oddly synchronistic about this. Just yesterday I stumbled across a news story about Antarctica possibly containing the world's deepest canyons below the ice. My curiosity lead me to further research the content. Did you know there's nearly two kilometers of ice covering the land on Antarctica and the continental interior is known to be the driest place on Earth? It's considered to be a desert. Only the coastal areas get a little annual precipitation. I digress ...

Captain Cook has a profound tie to the Pacific Northwest of the U.S. In fact he was one of the very first explorers to sail into the Puget Sound. His crew included George Vancouver, who later named every island, mountain, waterway, and point of land in sight, including previously recorded Spanish landmarks.  Puget Sound itself is named for his lieutenant Peter Puget. His predecessor Captain Cook was one of the first "palefaces" the area natives ever encountered.

Also in the news this week, Seattle's boondoggle of a "Big Dig" project hit another big snag. Washington State Governor Inslee put a stop to the world's largest-ever tunnel boring machine Bertha: http://www.geekwire.com/2016/governor-stops-berth-tunnel-machine/

First Bertha hit a mysterious object, which turned out to be a pipe that had been called out in the tunnel schematics.

Then Bertha broke down.

After that, Bertha was rescued and repaired at considerable risk and cost.

Next came a barge that hit an adjacent pier, potentially creating more risk. Oops.

Finally, a sinkhole has opened up.

Nearly 162 years ago to the day, great Chief Seattle, who had foretold the "palefaces" would one day have longhouses that stood on their sides and reached to the sky, expressed the following at the Treaty of Point Elliott signing:

"Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people ... And when the last red man shall have perished-and the memory of my tribe is but a myth among white men-these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe ... At night-when the streets of your cities and villages are deserted-they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land ... The white man will never be alone!"

Just for fun, I'm proclaiming the great chief and his people are not only opponents of the 99 Viaduct replacement tunnel, they have vengefully cursed it.

The tribe has spoken ...

Raw & Lonely

Is it common to be married and also feel totally alone and isolated? I sure hope not for everyone else's sake. My husband has been icing me out for the past few days.

Prior to and during the holidays tension mounted. You see, while I've been so uber diligent about fighting my own health battle, my husband has been working really hard at ignoring his chronic health issues.

My husband and I initially met in 2004 through our local business chamber. His company was our top sponsor and he served on the board while I was on staff. We really didn't get to know one another on a personal level until two years later.

So nearly 10 years ago it quickly became apparent my future husband to be had some health problems; mostly digestive in nature. He suffers from severe reflux at times. It has been so severe the acidity has scarred his esophageal tissue. At times he has difficulty swallowing while eating, especially meats, to the point of choking. Then he has to run to the bathroom and hack up the obstruction. I'd be understating my feelings by mentioning how frightening these episodes are. Once when we were visiting family in D.C., my husband was so overcome by the acidity of a Margerita he became unable to breathe. I stood by his side, paralyzed with fear. Thankfully this episode resolved itself.

Along with my husband's chronic reflux is a chronic cough. He also produces quite a bit of phlegm. Despite knowing dairy does a number on him in the phlegm department as well as irritates his digestive tract, he indulges in it anyway. His favorite dairy "food" is ice cream. There are times he'll consume a large bowl of it not long before bed time. After this, there are times he'll spring out of bed in the middle of the night being unable to breathe. Then the coughing fit starts. At least he's breathing!

Over time his cough has become constant. By constant, I mean everyday. There are plenty of times he awakens in the middle of the night hacking. Sometimes this is due to severe reflux, which forces him to sit up until it settles before he can lay back down and fall back to sleep. And, yes, these fits not only worry me, they jar me from my slumber every time.

Let me be perfectly clear, I am utterly and completely concerned with my husband's quality of life. I know full well as much as any other human we're not going to live forever. Nor would I want to. Even so, it seems to me each of us would want to have the best quality of life we can have during the time we are here in this world.

Between my three years of chronic illness and his ten plus years of chronic symptoms, suffice to say the layers of feelings around these things for both of us have built up to a critical mass.

My husband also battles depression. I think many of us humans do. In our complicated society today, the darkness lurks in plain sight. Health is far from being just about body mechanics. Health also encompasses mind and spirit. In fact I see mind and spirit being an essential source of healing. Like anything, first one has to want to be well. Actually wanting to be well is second to first acknowledging a problem exists.

Here's the thing. Despite his nagging, chronic symptoms, my husband avoids acknowledging there's a problem. This seems completely unreasonable to me. If there's no problem, how could he then even want to be well?

We're just barely out of the holidays into a baby new year. The holidays can be a stressful time. We all have triggers, holidays and family especially tend to make us "trigger happy." Only typically in the reverse of happy. In addition to this, my husband also is dealing with a stressful work situation.

He's been running a small 35 year old retail business for the better part of the past eight years. He loves the work, it's a great creative outlet for him and his many talents. The two owners, who are best friends, have run the business as their hobby with no identifiable, logistical acumen. They're in their seventies and planning an imminent retirement. They've offered my husband the business to continue their namesake as a legacy, and their plans around this keep changing. The uncertainty around this is stirring up his anxiety. While these two surgeons' wives have been playing shop all this time, my husband has a career and earnings to think about. Add to that the owners continue to over spend and mismanage despite my husband's best efforts.

The week leading up to Christmas was especially trying at his work. The two owners weren't speaking to one another. My husband acted as liaison. On top of that it's just a very busy time of year for their stationery business. Holiday cards, event invitations, gifts, etc. Orders and shoppers come pouring in during this time of year. Like most retailers the last quarter of the year is the busiest and helps keep such businesses afloat for the year.

The week leading up to Christmas was also trying in our home. As far as I knew my husband and I were fine. I knew he had a lot going on at work, and sometimes he just internalizes things, which is contrary to mental wellness. I have felt in the past when I push him to talk, he clams up tighter. So I've learned to be more flexible and just allow him to come out of his shell at his own pace.

Then the eve of Christmas Eve it happened. "I am so ready for a break," in an exasperated voice he said. "I just really need to get away."

My husband was quite relieved to have a four day reprieve from work. Who could blame him? I was happy for him. So this is when he was finally able to express himself, though he was stingy with all the details. Those would have to wait for another exchange. As soon as he was off work on December 23, he came down with a terrible cold. He wouldn't even treat it with vitamin c as he was concerned it would aggravate his reflux.

Let me back up a bit. My husband and I had planned a get away to our home in coastal Mexico last spring. When he renegotiated the terms of his re-hire with the shop (he had a short lived six month job change last year), he didn't factor in our spring break trip to Mexico. My practice was really busy at that time so I didn't mind postponing. Then we discussed heading down in late October/early November, a really great time to go. I was really starting to feel crappy as late summer transitioned to fall. So we bumped it out to after Christmas to ring in the new year.

By early December when my Lyme diagnosis was confirmed, when I began my rigorous treatment regimen as well as when I began to feel lousy from the effects of the meds, I withdrew my desire to go on the trip. My husband was very disappointed, understandably.

My husband and I also have very different mindsets. I've been studying Buddhism, which is about the cessation of suffering and delusive thoughts to ultimately reach enlightenment. In a nut shell it's about becoming OK with all that is, good, bad or otherwise. Most everything in our lives is impermanent; career, material goods, our houses, our youth, etc. We all know this to be true. What's also true is when we attach ourselves to those things that are impermanent, when they change, get damaged or vanish it causes us to suffer.

As I've brought this notion into my awareness and practice of being human, I notice these patterns show up, especially with the person I share a life with.

I felt horrible about pulling the plug on our post holiday trip. At the same time, the thought of traveling with a suitcase full of meds and supplements I need to heal, the thought of something going wrong abroad ... seemed like risks I wasn't willing to wager on. In hindsight I'm glad I didn't. Mexico is a sanctuary. I have so many wonderful memories there, and only one poor one; the trip when my bizarre and frightening symptoms first surfaced.

During the holidays and one of many visits with family, my mother-in-law mentioned to me about how badly my husband needs to get away. Yes, I know, and I already feel horrible about it. At the same time, I had been encouraging him to still go. Perhaps take a friend or even go himself and just be. I tried to get him on our good friends' trip to Mexico. They were totally open to it. My husband just wasn't sure if he wanted to risk dealing with their drama. Whole other story of self-induced crises I won't even bother sharing.

I then encouraged my husband to invite his best friend in L.A. down to Mexico. She couldn't get the time off work at her new job and subsequently invited him down to visit her. Long story short, we booked a flight for him to L.A. on December 29 to fly down New Year's Eve. That in of itself was a catastrophe. We fly our hometown carrier Alaska, and their site is crap. We struggled with making the booking and each time we were kicked out and looped around to the beginning of our search. Each occurrence the flight fares changed, typically by increases. By the time we got the ticket booked (I was involved because our banked fares for Mexico were in my profile and we wanted to use them), the ticket went from $270 USD to $550 USD round trip.

The morning before his flight, my husband's bestie ordered him to cancel his ticket as she was down for the count in the bathroom with stuff shooting out of both ends. Her words, not mine. This tension around the trip escalated between my husband and I. He felt like I didn't want him to go, which is untrue. I merely didn't want to be involved with making the arrangements, and grew frustrated with the horrible online experience we had just endured with Alaska. We had an exchange.

It occurred to me during the past year my husband had several claims to achieving happiness, things he needed to have happen. I broached this with him out of concern. That he had told me he needed to have my mom and her partner out of our house (they lived with us for five months between 2014 and 2015). Then he would be happy. He needed to go back to his job at the stationery company, then he would be happy. He needed us to finish our basement remodel, then he would be happy. Lastly, he needed to get away, then he would be happy. At this point all of the aforementioned had occurred, except the getting away portion, and yet my husband still wasn't happy.

My husband became upset by me sharing this with him, and his response was simply that I made him seem like he was being bratty. My point went completely overlooked. If I felt like he was simply being a brat, I would have just said "dude, you're being a brat." For me pointing out the ways in which he claimed something would bring him happiness and ultimately did not backfired. I am sorry for any way in which I have been a disappointment to him.

After my husband's L.A. plans were quashed, he then planned a trip to Sun Valley, Idaho. He let me in on his possible plans the night before his departure, then claimed he had mentioned to me the possibility of going prior to that. His attitude that night was he wasn't even sure he was going.

The next morning, of his departure, I got up early to meet a client at a property. My husband wanted to know when I would return as he planned to take my SUV on his trip due to winter driving conditions. So now he IS going? Still many details had not been relayed to me such as his route, the length of time he was going to be gone, where he would be staying, whether he was meeting anyone there or along the way, etc. Am I out of line for wanting to know and in finding it odd so many details were still unclear the morning of his departure?

Before he left I had acknowledged our frustrations with one another appeared to be rather high and it will be good for us both to have some space. I was also anticipating my bestie, her fiancé and baby to stay on New Year's Day. Thought the fewer people the better so she and I could visit more; an intention that ended up being thwarted.

Of course I worried about my husband on a long drive in winter conditions. He doesn't like to drive long distances anyway. I didn't resist. We checked in with one another many times during his five day excursion. I was excited to see him when he returned home, though I felt like he was still a bit in the doldrums and not as spirited about being back home with me.

On the third night after his return, my husband had an awful middle of the night coughing fit. He was still sounding quite congested too, like he's still dealing with the cold I was able to clear in about four days. He's going on 15 days of it at this point.

I had a very tough time falling back to sleep. Felt like I was up for hours. Add to that I'm growing quite worrisome and wearisome of my husband's constant hack he won't bother himself to do anything about. That worry tends for me to grow into fear around his health further sliding downhill. By next morning when my husband cheerily prodded me to wake, I was less than pleased. To begin with, my body was screaming at me for its lack of ample rest. I felt really groggy and all around crappy. I was finding it a bit laborious to breath. My mood was of course adversely affected by this, too. I was crabby. Tired. Crabby. Feeling unwell. Probably looking quite unwell. In this instance it seemed as if my husband was just trying to sweep it all under the rug and happily pretend all was fine and good. Great, except for me it wasn't.

My husband decided to be Mister Fix It around the outside of the house. Friday was sunny and he had the day off. When he ordered me outside to help, I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily in protest, that apparently broke a big straw. He yelled at me then withdrew from me. He has been withdrawn almost ever since, except for our most recent exchange.

I tried to appeal to him on Friday. To open up our dialogue I said I needed to come clean with him about something. That I really don't know how to relate to him about how I'm feeling and what's in my heart. I did this in a calm, diffused and non-threatening manner. I told him I feel like I'm well setup for failure in my healing, my work and most importantly my marriage; all three of the things I've been fighting the hardest to keep above water the last three years. That I feel we would be well served to review our vows to one another because I feel like we're not honoring them.

I brought up his chronic symptoms. Weighing most on me is his wellness. What if I'm able to heal myself in the coming months as he further declines? All this work to restore my vitality so we can resume a more normal and more liberated quality of life, which he has clearly expressed is very important to his happiness, would be overshadowed. I'm here to tell you this journey I've been on the last three years has required a great deal of work. It's work that's hard to feel is rewarding when one is still often feeling unwell.

Subsequently around his health, I hear his body screaming at him. Even though he ignores it, I cannot. I can't help myself but advocate for his body.

His response was that no one else is concerned about his health. This couldn't be further from the truth. Not naming names, and there are several people I've had this conversation with, people he knows and loves are very concerned. They don't live with him and aren't as close to him as his spouse.

I asked him why he's OK being unwell to which he said he's fine. I have been disease-ridden for three years, I'm very in tune with such things and I know otherwise. It takes one to know one. Also, we're in our 40s. Unless we're cause in the matter of supporting our health, this biological aging shit ain't gettin' any better. As a dear friend often says, these are the maintenance years.

He admitted two things during this conversation; he doesn't want to give it any power or wallow in it and he doesn't want to alter his behavior. This leaves me feeling as though he believes I'm "wallowing" in my own health challenge. I am absolutely not a victim of my circumstances.

Still, he seems to be OK with how his symptoms affect me. He said this is about how I let it affect me and I should just ignore it. That's not unlike slapping someone across the face and expecting them to pretend it didn't happen. Very unlikely to work out that way. I would really have to make great alteration to who I am to my core, which I don't believe I'm capable of, to ignore my husband's body calling out signs of distress.

I confronted him about his feelings toward my disease, that I feel he resents me for being sick. He admitted resentment about the disease and not me. I told him I cannot tell the difference, therefore it still feels like it's directed toward me. He told me I'm dramatic. He also brought up the bratty thing again, that pre-New Year's topic of exchange. That he didn't want to buy a house in the first place. After two and a half years of blood, sweat, tears and tens of thousands of dollars spent, that's a productive thing to say about the first home we bought together. He still fails to get my point, accuses me of not getting him, and regardless, that topic of his perceived happiness of attaching to impermanent things muddies the water of our present conversation.

For my self-preservation I have drawn a physical line in the sand. So he doesn't feel like he has to tip toe around me, and so I'm less subjected to his chronic symptoms at night, I proposed we sleep in separate beds. I was clear in explaining this is not a punishment, it's a last resort and also understanding this is not conducive to a healthy marriage.

So the past two nights we've slept in separate rooms. He is in our new master downstairs on the far south side of our house. I am in our old master upstairs on the far north side of our house. I normally would refer to our home, in this case it's feeling less and less so.

We are still interacting, barely. I am engaging him in casual conversation for the time being. He has shutdown. I'm not sure whether he's slumped into depression or if he's intentionally icing me out because he's hurting. I'm done guessing. I've attempted dialogue. At this time I am focused on moving myself forward. Ideally he'll want to move forward with me; we'll want to move forward together. To where and what end remains the question.

I would love nothing more than a positive resolution that works well for both of us. Too many times in the past I feel like I've brought solutions to the table for my primary and most cherished relationship. I just don't have the energy or will to do anything more at this time other than communicate. My previous attempts have yet to work out. My husband and I are still co-habitating, only it feels more like a weird roommate situation. I would be pleasantly surprised if he looped in our couples counselor and made us an appointment.

This is when I will go into work mode. Work is something I'm good at and makes sense to me. I can identify and solve problems at work. I'm rewarded for this.

In the meantime, I'm just feeling sad and isolated.

Welcoming 2016

Not sure what this baby new year has in store. I'd love for this new year to bring good health, abundance, prosperity and creating art (literary and fine). I'm continuing work on gratitude, practicing healthy unattachments to impermanence and an overall higher state of consciousness.

Some things I'm letting go of and leaving in 2015 ... Letting go of responsibility for things that aren't mine to take on. Ending allocation of energy toward people and situations which are unfulfilling. Letting go of how things "should be."

I feel as though I may be drawing more inward, and that may not be a bad thing. Simplifying my life, which seems fairly straight forward to begin with, is quite appealing. Valuing being more mindful of my life choices and having foresight around consequences as well as being victimless around seemingly adverse consequences.