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Memories: 13 August 2023

Life is for living.

By Tanya Arons Published 12 months ago Updated 11 months ago 16 min read
13 August 2022

13 August 2023

12:17 pm. It’s a glorious day. I just finished updating the entire rest of the year (2023) on my Vocal Media journal. Now just waiting for them to be re- published. It’s been months of labour. Frankly I am utterly exhausted. But I am happy that all my stories and rantings, ramblings and musings are carefully preserved.

I will continue to add to them each day, if I have anything to say about life or any interesting occurrences. But I think it’s time I took a digital detox for a while.

13 August 2022

1:11 pm blessings from the Angels! It’s cold and wet today. So I stayed in bed and cranked up my electric blanket. I am very exhausted but glad I danced last night. Life is for living!

Yesterday I visited Mt Gravatt cemetery. There were 13 freshly dug graves in the Orthodox Jewish section. One of which was a child’s. I don’t know who these newly deceased are, as I no longer keep contact with the Brisbane Jewish community. So it was a tad astonishing. I don’t know if the deaths were Covid related, but it was a humbling reminder that life is as ever precious.

I spent a lot of time driving around the cemetery trying to find the Reform Jewish graves. We are tucked up right up the back (backing onto the stadium - almost like suicides on the fringes of the cemetary!) For a moment I was deeply insulted and enraged by this.

Two of my former enemies had “made it” to the Orthodox section with very ornate graves. This tells me that they had played both sides of the community and obviously had the right to be buried there, due to coming from Orthodox family.

They were such vile vermin but never mind. Death is after all, the great equaliser although the “sectarian division” at the cemetery remains the same. I almost had to laugh. At the human hypocrisy.

I looked at the memorial plaques and laid a stone at Ben Schochet’s one as he had always been kind and warm and friendly to me and my children. (Or at least to my face, as there were many “smiling assassins” in our community!)

I observed with sadness that Sue Bogan was buried there and her family has donated a lovely stone seat so people could rest by her grave and meditate or commune with her. She passed in 2018. Only 57!

Last evening, as a nod to all the spirits I had just visited, (I washed my hands before leaving the cemetery, as is customary but also good psychic hygiene!) I lit my Shabbat Candles.

Around 9:30 pm my back door started to open by itself, all my bells on it clanging. I shot a look at Beauregard and he looked back at me with consternation so I knew we had a presence here.

I was going dancing and was already made up and ready! I calmly got up and shut the door, staring meaningfully at Beau. He did look a tad frightened. I told him it was okay, just somebody followed me home from the cemetery which given I washed my hands they are not supposed to!

It didn’t feel threatening…more attention seeking.

I went dancing as is my usual custom and had a nice time although the vibe is not quite the same. An almost palpable shift. I am aware that it is dangerous for me to be out in crowded public venues, given my lungs. But I will keep dancing as long as I can muster the energy as it is both a spiritual triumphant defiance against a society gone wrong, and a good Cardio workout.

I found myself being danced with by mostly black women: a beautiful African young woman who told me she had been watching me, who finally summoned up the courage to dance wildly and joyously with me. Other women, mostly maori and a PNG woman who looked at me with awe. I just smiled and kept dancing.

I also noticed that security were watching out for me when one drunk young man started invading my tiny preciously guarded space. I am grateful for that, as they know I lose my temper towards the end of the night from exhaustion from dancing and the drunks who get on my infamous “last nerve”.

I was working hard at maintaining emotional equilibrium. I am building up my physical and psychic stamina.

But I left at 1 am after some weird drunk dudes asked me to handcuff them. They assume by my perceived power dynamic (lmao!) that I am a Domme so I told them there is a club for that but they would have to pay. They slunk off sullenly.

I can’t stand those BDSM pissweak types. It nauseates me actually. But I realised they were all getting feral and I had bounced myself on my air wair doc martens past my last raw nerve so it was time to retreat to my Sacred Space again.

Le Danse Macabre continues…but on my terms, Babies.

People were very affectionate last night. Several women kissed my cheek. It was a tad alarming as I fear getting the Coof from their sweet intimacies but I don’t reject it as after all, living or dead, we are all humans and a little sweetness goes a long way and if at any time I don’t survive…at least I made my life beautiful and danced to my own immolation. Admired by the few, even as I was greatly reviled for “holding true to my values”.

I had a sense that the Voodoo god Papa Legba was with me. A strong primeval protecting force.

So I just nodded and accepted the love and grace of the gods. There has been a lot of spiritual communiqués and even gifts in recent days so Someone up there has my back. My scarred and itchy back as the scar tissue on the several slices and dicings are very irritated lately.

It would behoove me to soak in the ocean as soon as the weather warms up. A good long swim in sea water is just what the doctor ordered.

Spring is coming…

13 August 2021

“killed” by Philippines abalone! (My Phillipses family did love to keep trying to kill me!)

My lungs are not happy this morning. Not happy at all. I didn’t think I breathed too much shell dust in but judging by the ache in my sternum and the phlegm I just coughed up…arggghhh. I am dying for my Art!

I am walking back from the post office. $9.15 to post a shell to a total stranger. Holy hell but random acts of kindness are getting expensive! I said to the nice man behind the counter that I need to turn to prostitution and drug running just to survive!

He smiled behind his mask and wryly replied that I am living in the right place! I replied “I know…Hell! But what else can people do to assuage their misery and trauma than take drugs to dull their agony? I do it with chocolate and fried foods which is why I am fat and mostly out of my mind!” Then we both laughed and laughed.

Crystal just rang me. I was feeling so dizzy and weak that even cooking dinner was difficult as I felt drunk, which is weird as I have not had alcohol at all! She told me she was also feeling dizzy!

We had a lovely pleasant chat. She recommended I watch the Fungi documentary on Netflix. She told me how much she loves wildcrafting and searching for interesting or rare mushrooms in the forest!

I told her my grandmother Eva did the same as did my Phillips forbears. I suggested she study Naturopathy as she is a natural intuitive healer like my father was.

I feel slightly less woozy now. But I had a rather strange day with my mental health. Talking a lot with Robyn and Peter and Ailsa, working like a demon with my fleeces , and other weirdness. Hohum.

I thought I might be a tad manic because I damaged my lungs a bit last night while carving the abalone and coughed up a bit of blood this morning. So in true Tanya form, I overdid things by taking a longer walk than usual to the post office and back, and then working like a lunatic, carding the fleece.

I seem to push myself beyond reason when I am unwell. I am not sure what that is about except the fear of dying without having achieved anything worthy of note.

But tonight’s epic dizziness was really alarming. Glad that has settled down a wee bit.

So tomorrow is another day. Onwards I go. Lots more fleece still drying so lots more carding to be done. I would like to pace myself but that won’t happen.

It keeps my hands busy while my mind spirals out of control I suppose.

13 August 2020

13 August 2019

2:11pm I just finished repotting all the waterlilies. Big job! Utterly exhausted but the plants can thrive again and perhaps this summer there will be flowers. The healthiest were the pink night flowering ones. I think they will definitely strut their stuff this season!

I put cow manure in the bottom then clay soil from my garden then coarse sand that Jarrod brought over for me yesterday (woot!) then piled all the stones and glass pebbles on top. That’ll stop the goldfish from tearing everything apart I hope.

I might have a rest for a bit now then take Mr Beauregard for his constitutional. If I can summon up a fourth wind.

13 August 2018

….

I am in a pissing boiling fierce supercharged rage today. Down low in my guts. Interesting!

I was lying in my hammock and felt chilled to the bone (even though it is a lovely sunny day). So I went and had a hot shower, washed my greasy hair, am now dressed a bit warmer and am back in the hammock.

I have devoured leftover tagine. My angry gut demanded food like a Berserker taken to Valhalla by the Valkyries. Hopefully my body digests it and does not give me yet another GERD attack. I am taking Nizac. For the past 3 days. Maybe that is contributing to my rage?

My body has fought for survival since early infancy (even in utero!) Fuck but I am strong, indomitable, powerful. Also getting frail, exhausted and more and more vulnerable. No wonder my gut is fighting me. The gut is like a second brain. It appears to be taking over.

Anyway not in pain, just weak and thought disordered and emotionally furiously fiercely wondrous.

My Crystal and my Jarrod and my Harvey are coming later. I shall enjoy their company. Time with my Beloveds is very precious.

Thanks for the call Nigel. Love you too. Just for today...Mama T is holding on and letting go simultaneously. But I never let go of my true loves. You know who you are 🙂.

13 August 2017

The veil has been thin lately. I have been feeling fragile, even shredded. Under attack but this time from unseen forces. No harm has come to me but an overwhelming sense of teetering on the brink of a cliff like a Lemming.

Fear is a contagion and it seeps deep into the soul. I will not let fear and other people's willingness to destroy our planet steal from my joy quotient. So I went to bed last night, dizzy, exhausted and weak and read Psalm 91 to cast out the demons of hell from my home and aura.

I feel better. My back is still aching and my lungs still squeezing but my mind is crystal clear and my awareness is heightened and honed. Look out Mofoes! The Tanya is riding high. ;-)

And I have loved them well. Monstrous cowards/psychopaths/Narcopaths and weaklings. Next!

My laptop has some weird display on it that I can't get rid off. It says there are no viruses. I have managed to use superantispyware. Got rid of only 11 malware. Screen still unreadable. So now resetting the laptop.

I hope it works. Otherwise the thing is not really usable. Oh well. Such is life. My book is on a flash drive, thank G-d. So all is not yet lost.

I have had my former Rabbi very much on my mind today. I wonder how the members of the "Habibi Club" are doing these days. They were lovely decent kind and honourable men who supported me, as a Jew and as a woman. Especially after the hellish debacle of Beit Knesset days (years).

I had a call recently, asking me to return to Beit Knesset as they hope to merge with BPJC. They assure me that the evil doers of the past have either died or atrophied and it is safe for me to come back.

They know nothing of human nature then. The garment of evil is easily masked by a fresh new face or a new organisation, a new moniker and a new ideaology.

As King Solomon used to quip "THERE IS NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN".

My Tallit smells musty and ancient. As ancient as my once joyous zealotry that was smothered by ancient moribund hatred, betrayals and sexual/emotional/physical abuse.

My lipstick-stained tzitzit lie useless in a Tallit bag I lovingly embroidered with my own hands. Penny has clawed at the tapestry as I have always kept it on my couch. Seems an ironically fitting end for a vessel of holiness that was clawed and spat on and besmirched too many times by demonic lowlifes.

Ahhh HaShem! What is your Will? The winter of my contentment is unseasonably warm and Paradise is a hellish hound dog that sweats and melts in too-long summers.

Boaz Blumberg was right. Brisbane is only Paradise in wintertime. I wonder what he would have thought of these wintry days of 30 degrees Celsius. Still it is marvellous to behold.

13 August 2016

Waiting for Annette and her friend to deliver the beautiful old wardrobes and duchess that belonged to her mother in law. I am pleased to be given them.

I just need to empty out my old wardrobes (that was my mother's) and the one in the spare room and drag them downstairs so I can put in the ones from Annette. It is gonna be a busy few days rearranging my house, Tetris-style.

13 August 2014

I went to Irish Murphys to dance. So glad I did as it helped heal some of my pain over the death of Robin Williams.

Some guy with dreadlocks named Abdullah decided, based on one dance with me that we were now friends and he could get a bit too grabby. He seemed to not understand how that could really piss me off. In the end I told him we are not friends and he doesn't even know me. Then shortly after I left.

G-d I wish Dave hadn't written me off. At least he was gentle, respectful and affectionate without being dominating. Now, I need to slap myself as he was so polite but disinterested in me that it sent me into a spiral of lust/depression/angst and activated my PTSD, feeling rejected and abandoned.

Poor Abdullah was at least overtly interested in me. Ok, my creep antenna wobbled. But lets face it…Dave was also a bit of a creep, leading me on then leaving me feeling rejected and abandoned.

I wonder when or if I will ever meet a man who is not too dominating or aggressive or on the other hand too bloody afraid of me and/or avoidant?

This shit is so difficult for me but I am grateful that I have good friends, intelligence, intuition and I need to trust that I am making the right choices.

Woody and Andy played beautifully and the crowd was hopping by the end of the night. Awesome!

8.30 am. Woke up after only 4 hours sleep. Grrr! Back to schluff! Penny's noisy purring will lull me to sleep.

1.11 pm. Awake again. Saw 1.11 last night too. Hmmm! Angels are by my side, keeping it real. Loving me when Fools throw me aside like used meat, hoping I will just slowly rot. They don't know this just makes me rise and shine in furious Vitality to fly another day in the face of loneliness, fear, death, hate, loss.

Every time they waste my time or take me down or make me feel ugly and useless and unwanted, I get back up, and I manifest more beauty, more mana, more Light, swirling up and over it all.

Then I land like a dull thud of dirt on a coffin. Hollow empty victory for the lost and loveless. Psy sighs. Survival is not really living either. It is just the stubborn refusal to give up and to let go of life and life's promise. It is Hope for the Hopeless, and an anchor for the cast-away.

Tomorrow is another day, but not today so someday, and if not now…when and how long and why this eternal mind-crippling punishment from gods and men?

We are infinite creatures of light and love but our spirits get tired of the dross of physicality, of pain and suffering, of deep grief and then the mind and body begin to separate from human existence.

One day there are simply no more tomorrows on planet earth and we are gratefully transmuted for a timeless void of eternity. For peace and love that is never abused or stolen or brutalised or ignored.

One day we all 'go home' to take our place among the stars. To rise and shine, to descend in a shower of sparks and to rise again. To be the flux and flow of the universe.

To witness great and magical beings be born and die, forever to be their guide. Nothing lost, nothing gained, just perfect balance.

13 August 2013

Just woke up after bad insomnia all night. Too much bloody housework had me ruminating Lol. Went to bed at 3 am. Dozed and was up hourly.

I was HOT in bed! Doona on and off, tried lying under a sheet, kicked that on and off, then would get cold so doona was pulled on again. Menopause is really draining. (If that is my issue?).

I got to thinking this morning around 6 am that it is truly fortunate that I am single. I miss the cuddles and touch of a human in my bed but ffs, it would just make me hotter. My bed is so comfortable and I have both sides to thresh about in. I guess Hashem knows what S/he/it is doing in keeping me safe and alone. Lol!

I have a lovely spare room with a spare queen bed but it would be awkward to say to a new partner that they have to sleep alone. Ha!

Yesterday was a productive and happy day. I had an urge to spring clean so cleaned my kitchen windows, then washed and polished the hutch and all the ornaments on it. Epic!

Crystal visited with Ramon Rabbit. Jarrod came to meet him too. Even my neighbors brought their toddler over to see him. I got to Bunnysit while Crystal was at rehearsal then I drive them both home.

Today when I get up I intend to clean the floors and finish dusting and polishing the kitchen.

Got out of bed with a bad back. Took pain killers, pottered in garden. Baby sat Harvey. Jarrod arrived later to pick him up, inspired me to plant out my blueberry bushes. So I did. Had to dig a big hole in hard ground. More painkillers. Planted out some old sunflower seeds. Not sure if they will germinate but worth a try.

Now resting but sore. Oh well Spring Fever has energised me into Mania. Awesome!

I will have a clean house, flourishing garden and hopefully new life. (Or promise of one).

13 August 2011

"Imagination was given to man to compensate him for what he is not; a sense of humor to console him for what he is." - Sir Francis Bacon

So true. Lucky I was blessed with a bloody black sense of humour, cos I failed to imaginate a better life!

13 August 2010

I have reached new depths of physical exhaustion, after a week of mad activity, digging gardens, wirebrushing chairs, moving crystal's house yesterday which was epic but we worked marvellously as a team, Crystal, Courtenay and I. (I was in agony as I put my back out from all the digging 2 days before LOL). Today I did more wirebrushing and painted one chair. Looks great. Still have weedspraying to do. OY.

Got out of bed with a bad back. Took pain killers, pottered in garden. Baby sat Harvey. Jarrod arrived later to pick him up, inspired me to plant out my blueberry bushes. So I did. Had to dig a big hole in hard ground. More painkillers. Planted out some old sunflower seeds. Not sure if they will grow but worth a try.

Now resting but sore. Oh well Spring Fever has energised me into Mania. Awesome!

I will have a clean house, flourishing garden and hopefully new life. (Or promise of one).

Just woke up after bad insomnia all night. Too much bloody housework had me ruminating Lol. Went to bed at 3 am. Dozed and was up hourly. I was HOT in bed! Doona on and off, tried lying under a sheet, kicked that on and off, then would get cold so doona was pulled on again.

Menopause is really draining. (If that is my issue?).

I got to thinking this morning around 6 am that it is truly fortunate that I am single. I miss the cuddles and touch of a human in my bed but ffs, it would just make me hotter. My bed is so comfortable and I have both sides to thresh about in. I guess Hashem knows what S/he/it is doing in keeping me safe and alone. Lol!

I have a lovely spare room with a spare queen bed but it would be awkward to say to a new partner that they have to sleep alone. Ha!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons

humanity

About the Creator

Tanya Arons

I write about my life experiences. I write about complex ptsd, the agonies, the angst and my post traumatic growth. About Beauty, Truth and Honour and little vignettes of comfort from the spirits that love me: living and dead. I also Dance!

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