That really resonated with me. I grew up with a mother who was deep in alcoholism and turned to drugs and died by the time I was fifteen from liver failure. More specifically a medical emergency from the cirrhosis that ended up killing her. I was a child and spent most of my childhood wishing my mom would put the bottle down and get sober. She died before I graduated which I obviously didn’t want or choose. I chose addiction but there is always some level of not having a choice. I chose to pick up and drink or use but did I choose the patterns and trauma that was instilled into me from a very young age?

As my addiction stayed with me, I made a lot of bad choices that I take responsibility for. I gave my power away to unhealed men. I can resonate with Lindas character becoming pregnant by surprise, which I am sure a lot of families can. I was diagnosed with a gastric ulcer due to my excessive drinking and later found out that I was pregnant. I was far along and made the choice to keep my daughter. It was the best decision I made but it wasn’t my choice.

My oldest brother dying. My dad dying. I obviously didn’t choose these things to happen. To be a single mom with no immediate family. No, no. I didn’t choose this path at all.

Linda also says the line “on my own terms”. And after life taking me on a ride I didn’t want to go on, I’m starting to pull the reins a little bit. I will also be doing things on my own terms. Living life on my own terms. As a woman especially, we need to start living on our own terms. Taking our power back as women. Every woman who listens to Linda in that scene can resonate to not choosing a lot of their life. Giving their power away.

Women are natural givers so we might not realize until we’re in our 40’s that we’ve given ourselves away time and time again.

Linda reminded me to take my power back. I hope she reminded you, too.

You received your ancestor plaque. “LINDSEY WILSON THE BADDEST ANCESTOR IN THE GAME” it would say. I know you’re laughing at the words I chose for you. “The dispensary is bumpin”, you used to say lovingly mimicking me as we drove up to the busy dispensary on the rez in Chilliwack. We would laugh and I’d go buy a bag while you waited in the car. Listening to Motown. Always Motown.

You watch over Melena and me in the group of eagles. When I drive past them I think of you, a young buck running around Tsawwassen and Ladner with your other young buck friends. I think of the stories shared with me about you, a tough young man with a face meaner than the rest. You fished the Fraser and played lacrosse at the box in Ladner. And then pool became another one of your talents. “A talented spirit” the late chiefs discuss amongst themselves. “He lived many lives on earth and caught each talent like fish in a net.” They say.

As the late chiefs gather around and boast about you in the spirit world. I’ll be earth side remembering your smile. The way your laugh lines became more defined as you got older. Your face softening and becoming kinder as the world threw what it could at you. I loved your laugh lines because I share the same ones on my own face. I love them because it reminds me of how we used to laugh. We loved to laugh.

As you gain your ancestor status, I’ll be on my couch watching The Blind Side. I’ll remember how we spent all weekend watching it each time it came on cable. I’ll remember you teaching me what drafting meant. How every football season we would do football picks in your car.

As you watch over Melena and me, we’ll remember you. We’ll remember each time you showed up for us. Each time you celebrated us.

Happy birthday in the spirit world, dad. You have your ancestor status and you sit in the depths of each realm. You carry generations of wisdom and cycles of love that present themselves as glimpses in the physical world.

I wish I wasn’t saying here’s to many more but the relationship we both had with the spirit world and the depths of in between, I know you’re happy where you are. So I’ll wish you a lifetime of happy birthdays in the spirit world. I’ll see you again soon. Save me a seat in a pocket in the in between.

The raven cawed. He didn’t like this weather. It was freezing rain. He usually liked the rain, but this was too extreme. The rain soaked into his feathers. The fluff of his feathers kept him dry, but he could still feel the cold and wet sensation.

Shivering, the raven swooped to the ground and hopped towards some low branches.

“I’ll sleep through the rain” he thought.

He tucked his bill into his feathers. The rain was cold, but it sounded soothing. He could hear the river rushing beside him. The raven dosed off into a slumber.

He opened his eyes and realized it had stopped raining. But the trees were also gone. There were no more greens and browns surrounding him. The river was no longer rushing beside him.

“Where am I?” he thought.

A door appeared. It was large and red. The door merged into a waterfall and soon the raven found himself on a log floating down the river. Looking around, he saw cedar trees morphing sizes. He was in awe.

A tree held its branch out and picked the raven up.

“I’ll show you something neat,” said the tree. It’s voice deep and stoic.

The tree took 3 giant steps and placed the raven onto the beach. Seashells formed little legs and began to march towards the raven. They ushered him to join them.

The raven marched.

He marched along the beach with the seashells as waves hit the shoreline. The water was blue with hints of purple. The raven had never seen the water that way before. He felt a little uneasy. But he also felt calm. He kept marching.

The red door appeared again, and he found himself flying through it. The tree was on the other side; it opened its mouth swallowing the raven whole.

The sound of the river rushing.

The raven opened his eyes. It had stopped raining. The sun was setting. Pinks and oranges painted the sky.

He flew out into the sunset. Only remembering fragments of the dream he just had.

“The Offspring” the tickets read. I was so excited to go. After my brother died last year, I haven’t been out much. It was hard to make sense of life. He was my best friend. I knew he would want me to enjoy a night out. A punk rock show was exactly what I needed.

I put on my black tank top with black washed jeans and my black adidas, straightened my hair and put my hoops in. I called an uber and headed downtown. I met my friend at a local bar for drinks and food. It felt nice to be able to “relax”. I haven’t done that in a while. I’m usually walking around very antsy. I ordered a beer and yam fries. I love yam fries and beer together. Its not some grand pairing, but its delicious. The atmosphere of the bar was flowy and dim. It was UFC fight night and the bar was packed. We paid the bill and walked to the arena. We got floor seats and I was ready to dance and scream along to every song.

“The Kids Aren’t Alright” started playing and everyone started dancing. The mosh pit was going strong; I jumped in and started head banging. SMASH. Someone’s fist connected perfectly with my face. Stunned, I looked around to see everyone still moshing. I blinked a couple of times and went back to my seat. The music was loud, my adrenaline was settling and I could start to feel the sting of that person’s fist. It felt a lot like the sting of grief. Shocks you and leaves you in pain. I eased back into the concert. Letting the vibrations of the music settle into my body. It felt good to move. Moving grief through my arms and legs.

I thought about my brother, and the sting of his absence. The smash of the news that he’s gone. And how I’ve eased back into life. I still had fun and enjoyed the show. I can take that as a lesson to still enjoy life even when it stings.

As she sat with the cards in her bed, the moon card started to get bigger. A little confused, but very curious, she reached out her hand to touch the card, and it continued to emerge.

Bigger…and bigger the moon on the card started to expand. Yellows, greys and purple echoed in the distance. A portal. She could see grass and a lake in the distance. The moon light hit the water and created a sparkly reflection. The girl looked around her room as if to see if anyone was watching. She walked through.

Her feet felt the grass. It was soft. Like a dream, everything around her had a soft hue. Big trees with large green leaves towered over her. Flowers of different pinks and purples sparkled in the bushes. She heard the water ripple. The girl walked towards the lake and saw a beautiful creature. Was she a mermaid? She couldn’t tell. She had a shadow around her but there was a beautiful energy that this creature gave off.

“Come here” the creature whispered.

The girl began to walk towards the lake. She felt uneasy but strangely curious. As she got closer, she could see this creature embodied a woman. This woman had ink black hair that covered her chest, and her eyes shimmered ruby red. Her hand was raised.

“Come here” she hissed.

“I’m not sure I want to” the girl said.

“Why? There’s a secret in the water for you.” The creature gave off a flirty look. But the girl sensed something dark about this beautiful creature.

But while the girl sensed danger, she was being pulled towards the water. It was as if the tide was rolling her in its depth. A force was pulling her closer to the creature. Was this creature the force? She began to feel the depth of her decision to walk through the tarot card that appeared in her bedroom.

But she was curious, so she allowed herself to be pulled. She could feel the grass soft beneath her feet. It tickled and, in an instant, she was standing face to face with the creature in the water. The tides holding their fears.

“Do you know where you are, girl?” the thing smirked.

The girl thought for a moment. “A dream?” she asked.

“A portal where nothing is as it seems. A place where intuition leads. You will need to listen to your inner voice if you want out. See, you cannot go back the way you came.”

The girl looked behind her. The way she came no longer existed.

“You can join me in the water, or you can find your way” the creature held her hand out.

The girl closed her eyes. She was in for quite the surprise.

General Strain Theory correlates to Indigenous people being over-represented in the Criminal Justice System in a number of different ways. General Strain Theory focuses on a broad range of strains and factors that influence the likelihood of criminal coping. Indigenous people experience unemployment, trauma, abuse, loss of loved ones, and loss of community. We are going to take a deeper look at how these factors correlate with the overrepresentation of Indigenous people in the Criminal Justice System as well as explore solutions to help this issue.

To understand how General Strain Theory correlates to Indigenous people being overrepresented in the Criminal Justice System we must first understand a bit of the history of Indigenous people. Indigenous people have endured a lot of pain and trauma for decades. From residential schools being built in 1834 and the last one closing in 1996, the Canadian Government has been trying to erase Indigenous people since European settlers first made contact on these lands. Residential Schools were places full of abuse and violence against Indigenous children. Then it was The Sixties Scoop that happened in the 60’s where Indigenous children were taken from their homes and put into foster care. As well as there’s a lot of racism within society and so Indigenous people are constantly discriminated against. Systemic racism is also very much present in today’s society. Because of all of this, Indigenous people experience intergenerational trauma. A lot of pain and addiction gets passed down from generation to generation. The pain and addiction that gets passed down causes Indigenous people to make poor decisions or turn to drugs, alcohol, and petty crime to cope with the unfit circumstances they experience. A lot of Indigenous communities are also small and often remote, meaning they don’t usually have a lot of resources coming into help. With passed down traumas, remote communities and lack of resources, you find yourself factors as to why an Indigenous person may offend.

General Strain Theory was developed in 1992 by Andrew Agnew (wikipedia). There are 4 characteristics that are most likely to lead to crime. The first one is strains that seem unjust, strains that are seen as high magnitude, strains associated with low social control, and strains that create some pressure or incentive to engage in criminal coping. Andrew has suggested that “negative experiences can lead to stress”. In an article on ‘criminology wiki’, it talks about how “General Strain Theory has roots in Merton’s Anomie Theory and Cohen’s Social Control Theory, which deal with the social structures that might influence an individual to commit crime”. The article goes on to talk about how General Strain Theory has been a popular theory in criminology because it offers an expanded look at why youth and individuals gravitate towards crime. It also explains how Agnew used different types of research to fully develop General Strain Theory. General Strain Theory has roots from justice research, equity research, stress research, and regression research. These different research types would certainly be helpful when looking at why there’s such an overrepresentation of Indigenous people within the Criminal Justice System. Because of the stress and regression Indigenous people experience. It also says in the ‘criminology wiki’ article that with “knowing there are certain types of conditions that are more closely related to being a predictor of possible deviant behavior”. Another good factor to consider when looking at why Indigenous people may offend, and why there is a high representation of Indigenous people in the Criminal Justice System.

The correlations between General Strain Theory and the overrepresentation of Indigenous people in the Criminal Justice System are there. General Strain Theory is the theory that individuals will try to cope from negative emotions by exploring crime. For example, if an individual is experiencing poverty, they may go and steal food or money to supply their basic needs. Or they may use the money they do have to buy drugs to ease the stress of living in poverty. In ‘The Criminal Event’ textbook it talks about the three main types of strain (pg150). The first type of strain is when an individual believes that others are preventing or threatening to prevent them from achieving what they want. Like unemployment or being exploited in the labor market. This could correlate with Indigenous people living in remote communities and not having a lot of job opportunities resulting in unemployment. Many Indigenous people don’t finish getting their education and so they don’t have many opportunities for getting good and secure jobs. Many Indigenous people also experience racism within their workplaces so Indigenous people may not be hired or could potentially be fired for racial reasons. These communities that are remote don’t have a lot of support from the Canadian Government, which leads to Indigenous people committing theft or potentially selling drugs to make money to feed their families. Many Indigenous youth in these small remote communities turn to drugs to cope with living in poverty. Drugs often lead to other crimes and thus the cycle continues. The second type of strain is when we believe others have removed or are threatening to remove what value and possess. Some examples would be the end of a relationship, death of a loved one or having to leave one’s community. Indigenous people are very close with their communities and families. When parents or grandparents pass away it’s very distressing. Because of Residential Schools and The Sixties Scoop, many Indigenous people experience mental health issues and addiction. This results in overdoses and suicide. Indigenous youth may experience early deaths of their parents and grandparents because of addiction and poor mental health. The consequences of this could lead Indigenous youth to cope with substances or crime. The third type of strain is when an individual experiences negative life events because of the relationships in their lives. This could be abuse from parents, discrimination by teachers or bullying by peers. Many Indigenous people experience turbulence in their relationships with their parents or grandparents. This is a result of Residential Schools and The Sixties Scoop. As I’ve mentioned previously in this essay, Residential Schools and The Sixties Scoop have caused a lot of trauma for Indigenous people and that trauma gets passed down from generation to generation. Indigenous youth experience abuse from their parents as well as grow up in homes full of drugs and alcohol. These youth that experience abuse and substance use at home are more likely to fall into the same cycles their caregivers have fallen into. Indigenous youth who end up in foster care may also turn to crime and drugs to cope with being disconnected from their families and culture. Indigenous people experience racism from society and so Indigenous youth who may be getting bullied from peers could turn to drugs to cope. The loss of a boyfriend/girlfriend may also trigger someone to commit a crime or turn to substances to cope. It states in ‘The Criminal Event’ textbook “Depending on the type of strain being experienced, drug use may be a means of escape, violence may be a way to get even, and theft may allow the acquisition of material goods that are not otherwise available”. So as you can see, General Strain Theory correlates to why there’s such a high representation of Indigenous people in the Criminal Justice System.

So what’s the solution? Bringing in more resources to Indigenous communities is the first thing that needs to be done. Bringing in clean drinking water to remote communities that are on boil advisories. Helping these communities to get out of poverty would be a huge step in the right direction. Communities that experience poverty are potentially more likely to have individuals who will commit crime and turn to drugs to cope with living in poor conditions. Bringing in youth centers and other recreational resources to help youth and families connect with one another. Community is so important and it’s important to create and maintain healthy communities where their members thrive. Helping parents and family heal from past traumas. Residential School survivor support and Sixties Scoop survivor support. Because Residential Schools and the Sixties Scoop have caused so much harm and trauma for Indigenous people that keeps getting passed down to each generation it’s extremely important to give support to the survivors and their families. Overall, helping Indigenous communities as a whole instead of just helping the individuals is what will help tackle this issue. Community and connection are important when helping Indigenous communities because community and connection is what Indigenous people thrive on.

In conclusion, as you can see in this essay, General Strain Theory correlates with why there is such a high representation of Indigenous People within Canada’s Criminal Justice System. From trauma to unemployment, the correlations are there. The solutions to tackle this issue may take some time, but the bottom line is community and connections are what’s going to help this ongoing issue.

Life has been one big traumatic roller coaster. The last two years have been especially trying. When I was a kid, I was trapped in trauma, as an adult, I’m trapped in responsibility with sprinkles of trauma.

When I was a kid, my nervous system never felt safe. Or it seldom did. Living with a mother in addiction will do that to a nervous system. I grew up with anxiety and depression but not understanding what it was. I just knew I felt out of sorts. I felt sad. I felt intense. I grew up impulsive.

At 34 my nervous system is so shot. I’m growing up to be scared. Losing dad two years ago was the kicker. It was so sudden. And it changed my world. I write about it a lot. It was a situation that created a whole collapse of my life. Everything relates back to the day my dad died. If we want to go even further, it all relates back to my mom’s death. Even further than that, really. But I was first introduced to the depths of death at a very young age.

In Orion and the dark, Orion is scared to go after his friend, Dark. He is unsure if what will happen and that scares him. There’s a girl character with him and she says to Orion something along the lines of, “you are obsessed with wanting to know the end, so the middle parts don’t seem so scary. But maybe that’s the point, maybe life is supposed to be scary. Maybe were supposed to do it scared.” And that really resonated.

I can’t remember a time I wasn’t scared. A time where my nervous system wasn’t wound up to some degree. I resonate with Orion in needing to know the end. To be obsessed with knowing. I am uncomfortable with the middle parts. Any inconvenience, or obstacle. Even small. I used to have much more capacity to handle such things. I don’t know how. But I did.

I’m healing though. Orion did it scared, and so can I. It’s not so much the healing that scares me. It’s navigating the hard parts of life. Those don’t go away when you’re healing. They accumulate through out your life and healing just creates a smooth runway.

I love when I choose a movie that resonates. My intuition guiding me. We’re all doing it scared. None of us are alone in our fears. Beautiful yet haunting to think about. All of us intertwined with one another, including our fears. We keep them in our pockets to embarrassed to share. Orion was embarrassed. But then he decided to be brave instead of embarrassed.

And I think, maybe we need to all be a little less embarrassed and a little more brave.

It’s dark outside. Like pitch black except for the snow. I hate driving in the snow. Of course, I had to pick us up and leave in the middle of winter. Not that I was given much of a choice, no. I guess this is better than staying. Yes, way better than staying. But I sure wish it would stop. We pass a sign that says “555 BERRY LANE, FOR ALL YOUR BERRY NEEDS!” 555…the snow stops. The sky is clear. It’s dark but its clear. I take a deep breath in.

It’s hard when you want to stay but you must go. I don’t have much family left, and the ones who are alive don’t come around much. It’s complicated, family stuff. I guess it means I’m not anchored to one place. Mallory and I can’t be anchored. He’ll hurt us again. That’s why were on our way to the ferry. With the gas light on at 4:44am. Wait, the gas light?! Shit.

4:44am…I look at Mallory asleep in the back seat. Her Aladdin blanket keeping her warm. I panic a bit because I should have stopped for gas. 4:44am…the gas light turns off. What? No. I must be delusional. The gas light was just on but now there’s enough in my tank to get us to the ferry. Angels? I don’t know but I’ll take these wins. Even if they make me feel crazy.

We make it to the ferry. I take a deep breath in. I feel calmer than I did when we first started driving. We are on our way to our new life. I don’t know what to expect but anything is better than the harm we are leaving behind. The ferry blasts its horn as it leaves the doc. It almost feels like an official initiation. “Welcome to your new life!”

We head to the dining area for breakfast, “#111” I read on the front of a door. I feel an overwhelming sense of calm. I think we’ve been given a second chance. Mallory looks at me and says, “the numbers are talking to us mama!”

It’s been a journey these last 6, almost 7 years. When I found out I was pregnant I knew I wanted my child to experience a different childhood than I did. My mom did her best, but in the 90’s with not a lot of mental health knowledge, my mom struggled to get herself out of the hole that life and herself got her into. I however, used the resources I had and have slowly but surely climbed my way out of my hole. I guess I’m still climbing, since I don’t believe healing is linear. But I’m consistent in my climbing. I drink maybe once or twice a year now. I don’t crave alcohol and I certainly don’t black out anymore. I have a routine and I take care of myself better than I ever did while in addiction. I used to have little to no sense of direction. I felt really debilitated by the hurt and trauma I was experiencing and had been experiencing since I was a child. Memories and emotions that I numbed with substances.

A couple weeks ago, my daughter and I started to go to church with my daughter’s respite family. It’s something new that we wanted to try. When we were driving to church, GPS took me the route where the very first place I rented was. It was 2015 and just before my addiction got worse than it already was, I got my first little suite. It was totally an illegal basement suite looking back. As I turned down Kingsway and drove past Tanner St; I reflected. I reflected for a moment at how much I have grown since those days. How back then, I was barely making enough money to live and feed my addiction. Many days I was choosing between pills and alcohol or food. I drove past the corner market where the cashier would see my haggard unkept self walk in and buy packs of ramen noodles- he told me I could make a meal if I added eggs. He knew I was broke. I think back to drunken walks from the Skytrain to my place. Where I would have random guys come stay and feel like shit for days afterwards curled up in my bed. I reflected at how far I’ve come. No more living in scarcity. I have a handle on my finances. I went from haggard to handled in the last 10 years since living on Tanner St by Joyce Skytrain Station. To go from blacking out to driving to Church with my daughter on a Sunday morning having not had a drink in months (I was at The Offspring concert in January and had a couple beers for the occasion). The realization made me smile. I was proud of that accomplishment. I am proud.

My daughter is 6 turning 7 in June. When I reflect on when I was here age, I had a very different upbringing. When I was 6, I was becoming more aware of my mom’s alcoholism. Although I couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong; I knew something was not right in my home and I knew to correlate the beers my mom was drinking daily. I spent a lot of my childhood feeling stuck or trapped. As I got older and understood that alcohol was to blame, I desperately wanted her to stop. But she never did. Mornings I usually woke up to yelling and screaming. My mom fighting with someone, half cut. Or she was so hungover and in a terrible mood because of it. My mother was a warm person, but alcoholism will strip you of who you really are. It strips you and leaves you as a shell of a person. Every weekend my mom would bender. She also liked blacking out. Some weekends I would beg her to stay sober, and it would always end in a fight. Eventually when I got old enough, I started staying at friends’ places. I knew at a young age she had chosen alcohol over me. As I’ve gotten older and experienced my own addictions, I can offer sympathy and understanding that she didn’t just “choose” alcohol over me. No, it’s much more complex than that. Still, I mourn her and the relationship we could have had. I am learning from her mistakes, and mine in hopes to break and recreate a healthier cycle for my daughter and me.

My daughters’ mornings are not disrupted by hangovers or fighting. She does not see me blacked out with the music blasting and random people in our home. She wakes up in the mornings with gentle cuddles and slow mornings. As slow as a child with ADHD will allow, of course. My daughter does not spend weekends with her mother drunk. We make memories and try different things. I’m not perfect, not by any means. But I’m trying. Which I think is the difference between my mom and me. I think, maybe she was afraid to try. Or maybe afraid to fail? I say that only because I’ve failed, many times. Each time I fall though, I just pick myself back up. When my daughter was a baby, I had a few slips. I remember getting drunk with friends after her first birthday party had ended. Those slips turned into going out drinking on nights she was at my dads. Then those shifted into sober nights, even when she was at my dads. Then my dad died. And for the last two years I’ve gone out maybe 3 times. And when I drink its not at all how I used to. I let something shift in me. I matured in a different way than my mom did. Like branches on a tree, we grew and swayed in different directions. When I do have a couple drinks it’s a couple and then I’m done for the night. My 33-year-old self can no longer stay up past 10pm. I enjoy early mornings with my daughter. I enjoy not feeling like shit when I wake up. Mostly, I enjoy not exposing my daughter to all the things I was exposed to at her age.

Full circle cycles. When I was 6 and now, my daughter being 6. In 2016 and now 10 years later in 2026. Full circle cycles. Shifting. Emerging. Creating new timelines.

Bobby is on his way to Orion’s Belt. Bobby loves visiting the constellations. He is always so amazed at how dazzling they are. Shiba told Bobby once that Orion’s Belt was the bridge between the physical world and the spiritual world. Bobby had never heard that before. He remembers being on earth and having a fox tell him Orion’s Belt was also known as the Three Sisters.

Bobby floated through the stars. Each one glimmering a sparkly sparkle. They sat gently in the deep blue cosmic sky. He reached his big bear paw out and let it glide through the blues and shimmers.

He floated up to Orion’s Belt. When he got there, a small silver being with wings came and stood in front of him. “Hello Bobby” the being said. Bobby was taken aback by the being’s beauty. She looked like a comic angel. “I am one of the three sisters” she spoke again.

“Hello” Bobby said. He was feeling shy.

“I am the sister who watches the gate, I will show you where to go from here.”

Bobby nodded.

They floated together towards Orion’s Belt and landed on the constellation.

“This is lovely” Bobby said with his eyes wide.

“It really is,” said the sister. “This is where souls come to lay before they shift into the cosmos. Would you like to time travel for a moment, Bobby?”

Bobby nodded again.

With a swift woosh and some pink colors, they were transported to ancient Egypt. Bobby and the sister floating above sand and pyramids.

“Where are we?” Bobby asked.

“We are in Egypt. I wanted to show you a time when civilization created their beliefs about Orion’s Belt.” The sister spoke.

Egyptians conversed below them. They spoke about Osiris, the god of re birth and afterlife. Bobby watched them closely.

Another swift woosh and some more pink colors, and Bobby and the sister were back on Orion’s Belt.

“That was beautiful” Bobby said. His eyes had a wonderous gaze.

“You see, Bobby, the Egyptians were close in their theories. They believed Orion’s Belt was a graveyard for spirits in the afterlife. But really, it’s just a landing place. The spirit world is so vast as you know, spirits and souls wander far and wide.” The sister explained.

“I know” said Bobby, “I know the spirit world is vast and wide. I am still learning about earth, though. I spent time on earth, but I would like to spend more, soon.”

The sister hugged Bobby. “You are curious beyond your years.” She said warmly.

“Can I come back to explore Orion’s Belt and Egypt, again?” Bobby asked.

The sister smiled, “anytime.”

Bobby knew his next adventure with Shiba would be to Egypt, and he couldn’t wait to tell her.

It had been 2 years since her mother had passed. She liked coming to the dyke to remember her mother. She walked down the dyke. She was wearing gloves, but her hands were still cold. Her raincoat was dark green and her toque said “NOVA SCOTIA HELPS THE HOMELESS” it was given to her at a housing convention.

Suddenly, feathers flapped beside her. Confused, she looked around. Did a bird just fly next to her face? That’s impossible because she didn’t see a bird. Surely, she would see the bird that flew right by her face, right?

And then she heard a wail. She spun around to look behind her. Nothing but the thick pea soup fog. “Must be just a little bird” she said out loud. She was trying to calm herself because she felt silly being spooked. She continued to walk. But she heard the wail again. This time, the sound rippled through the fog. She began to feel chilly.

She could see something through the fog. It was low to the ground, and it was dragging itself. “Dragging itself?” She thought. “What the hell?” And then the thing took flight.

“SCREEEEEECH” she felt a ‘whoosh’ pass her face. Her heart started to beat faster.

Whatever it was, it was some sort of bird. A bird that drags itself? Was it a loon?

It wailed again. This time she could hear it in the water. Almost feeling compelled to walk towards the shore. She saw eyes glowing crimson red through the fog. Startled, she fell backwards. She landed on the hard ground with loose dirt.

“Don’t be scared” the loon whispered. “I’m here with a message”. The loon blinked its red glowing eyes. “Someone wants to say hello”.

The woman began to feel the air around her shift, and for a moment she wasn’t at the dyke. For a moment she felt warm and thought maybe the fog had lifted. But when she opened her eyes, the loon was gone. She looked around and called out, “loon?” but she was only met with silence. The woman began to get up but was hit hard with something and fell back again. “Sit still!” The loon hissed. “I have a message I said”.

The air felt warm again and the fog began to lift. Purple smoke began to swirl, and the loon turned into a woman. The loon’s spirit had long black hair with the same chrisom red eyes that glowed. The woman on the dyke tried to get up but she felt paralyzed by the purple smoke, and those eyes.

The woman was overcome with a sense of nostalgia. She smelled her mom’s perfume and could hear her mothers voice inside of her head “the fog is thick”.

She felt the sensation of a hug even though the loon was floating in front of her. And then, it was as if her spirit was time travelling. Different memories began to weave in and out of her mind. Although the memories were inside of her mind, they were also all around her. She could hear her mother speaking at different times of her life, her mothers’ laughs overlapping one another. The woman felt scared, but she also felt pure love. It was overwhelming and she could hear the loons’ wings flap in the distance.

“I’m dead” The woman thought. “No, dear child. You are about to become alive.”

And then the woman was a girl. She was a girl in her mothers’ arms. She could feel her mothers long dark hair tickle her arms. She could smell sweet tulips. Everything was bright. Her mother was saying, “the sea is a beautiful but powerful force that should be respected” in a whisper. Her mothers whisper started to get louder soon her mother was screaming “A FORCE THAT SHOULD BE RESPECTED”. Then everything went dark and silent.

“Open your eyes”.

The woman was back on the dyke. The fog had lifted and it was nighttime. Hours had gone by, but that experience only felt like a few minutes. Stars filled the sky. The woman got up, brushed herself off and headed back to her car. Her toque stuck to her forehead and her gloves felt warm from her sweat. She felt shaken up but had a sense of calm within her. What she experienced was real, she knew that.

The walk back to the car continued in a haze. She felt dreamy as she took each step. The cold clear air hit her cheeks, and she reflected on the past year and how she had been disrespected so many times. Disrespected by her boss and her ex-boyfriend. She thought about how she had been a people pleaser most of her life. How could she give pieces of herself away like that?

“A force that should be respected.”

It wasn’t her mothers voice though; this time it was her own voice.

“A force that should be respected.”

She walked down the path. As she walked down towards the parking stalls, she stuck her hand out and let the tall grass brush past her hands.

“I think I’ll tell my boss how I’m feeling” she thought. “And if he doesn’t hear me, ill quit.”

That felt like a power move. Like a woman who should be respected.

She got to her car, the door handle felt moist. She got in and took off her toque, her hair sticking to her forehead. “That was wild” she thought. She began to cry.

Emotions poured out of her. Emotions she had been holding onto for the last two years. Finally, they were releasing. She took a deep breath in and exhaled. There was an immense feeling of content, and she knew that experience on the dyke held a lot more depth than just leaving her job and ex-boyfriend. She was leaving with a sense of empowerment that she might not have noticed was there had the spirit of the loon not lead her to the shore. It may have stayed stuck in the depths of pain she held in the pockets of her soul. Yes, she knew this was an experience she would turn to when she needed guidance. The loon lady acted as a bridge between worlds. So, the woman and her mother’s spirit could connect for a moment. A moment that changed the direction of her life entirely.

She started her car. She sat there while her little blue Honda Civic heated up. Green eyes were staring back at her in the review mirror. They were her own eyes. Kind, but tired. The people pleasing and disrespect would stop and it would lead to so much more growth and better opportunities. Where would she be by this time next year if she started putting herself first today? “A commitment to myself” she thought. She pressed shuffle on Spotify and “Respect” by Aretha Franklin came on. Chuckling a little, she put her car in drive and drove off into her new timeline.

A couple months ago, while my kitchen was lit with Christmas lights and candles, I pulled some tarot cards. I did a reading for myself and went to bed. When I woke up the next morning, I made my coffee like I normally do, my kid running around at 5:30AM. I walked across the floor and stepped on something. A card. One of my tarot cards didn’t make it in its case with the rest of them. A sign, of course. I take most things as signs. It was almost like it has appeared out of a portal. Except I had been pulling cards the night before so obviously it just jumped out and needed to be seen. It was the Emperor card. This card symbolizes a time to take charge of your life. He represents security and organization. He tells us to build a foundation. So, I did. I started planting more seeds.

It has been a journey in the last few months. Of course, it truly has been a journey for the last 20 years. But these last few months I have gone through another transformation. Putting myself first. Being a parent first. Loving my daughter and I first. I’m leaving what no longer serves us. I am moving away from rough waters. I’m healing. I am chipping away at the amor I built in survival mode. Black, tinted armor.

I’m beginning to feel warm again. But being an Aries, I run forward full speed. There have been pauses and shifts as the universe catches up. I have taken them as obstacles. More fucking obstacles? But I’m being reminded to slow down. Slow and steady wins the race. It’s what my intuition tells me.

I did another reading today. This morning, in my kitchen. I pulled a spread of 5 cards and left them on my counter as I ran errands. I came back and put my things on the counter. As I began cleaning the cards up I realized there was a card stuck behind The Fool card that was part of the spread. It was the Ten of Pentacles. It was saying loudly,
SUCCSESS. MATERIAL SUCCSESS. FAMILY HARMONY. LOVE. It was there standing proud. A reminder. Hey girl, slow down. Have you ever not been able to get up?

Girl your time isn’t near. It’s here! The Emperor started it and the Ten of Pentacles is screaming it!

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Shiba is a spirit who likes to linger. She has lived lives in the 3D before, but right now she is resting her soul. She has learned many lessons and likes to rest in the auras, so she does. She has a spirit bear friend who explores the pockets and depths of the realms. His name is bobby. Although Shiba is clear and translucent, Bobby is brown and translucent. Bobby chooses to be brown, and he chooses to present as a bear because he says it was his favourite time on earth. “Being a bear was my happiest time” he likes to tell Shiba. Shiba doesn’t understand what he means by that. “How can any time on earth be your happiest time?” She always asked back. Shiba liked the 3D but she loves the realms more. The way she weaves in and out of different times and smells. Yes, smells. The realms are sensory magic. Being a soul is, everything and nothing all at once. Pure bliss.

When Shiba first saw Bobby, she was weaving in and out of the realms. Bobby was tucked away in a green sanctuary with big earthy leaves. The kind you see in an old cartoon and know it makes a nice crunch sound when you bite it. Bobby was watching fish jump in the sparkly blue water. Fish splashing glitter and pink and purples mix with the green grass and giant leaves. She noticed how he sat there with a child like presence, watching the fish ever so patiently.

“What are you doing?” She had asked him.

“Enjoying my space” Bobby replied.

She sat with him and they watched the fish together. Shiba was used to zooming across the realms, she didn’t stop to watch things usually. She liked it. She decided Bobby was a good soul and the two had been friends ever since.

Today, her and Bobby were going to find star dust. Bobby has never seen stardust before. Shiba hasn’t either but she’s heard about it. When she was on earth people would talk about it when talking about planets or in a thing they call ‘science class’. But she’s never actually seen it.

“Do you think its different colours or just transparent?” Bobby asked.

“I don’t know. Telling by the realms its probably glittery.” Shiba replied.

Bobby thought about being a bear on earth. Nothing was glittery, but boy was it beautiful. Bobby remembered the serene scene that was the mountains and sky reflecting off the crystal-clear water. The realms were magical sure, but so was earth. Bobby thought earth had its own sense of beauty and wonder. After all, its part of the realms.

Shiba and Bobby weaved in and out of the depths until they emerged into the pockets of stars. They dove downward and continued to drop until they landed on a star.

“Look!” Shiba said and she reached her arm out and opened her hand. Little speckles of gold shiny fuzz began to accumulate in her hand.

“Stardust!” Bobby cried!

And they had a star dust fight.

Seeing eagles drying their wings after a storm symbolizes patience and strategic waiting. Telling us that not every battle needs to be fought in the heat of the moment. That sometimes, waiting for the rain to stop is our wisest decision.

It was beautiful being a witness to multiple eagles standing so magically still. Looking strong and stoic. To be reminded to stand tall in the storm.

My dad taught me that eagles are our loved ones. I believe it to be true. I have seen many eagles with my dad and have seen them since he’s been gone. I have seen many eagles in my life but lately they make eye contact with me. It is a very intense and beautiful connection. But I believe it’s my dad. I believe when he comes to connect with me from the spirit world, all my ancestors follow. They wait for me in the trees.

When I drive up to them and under them, it feels like driving through a path in a portal. Like a dream I have been in. A dimension unknown.

Maybe eagles are portal hoppers, reminding us to shift with the storms.

I’m not sure what to say, “what’s new? Well a lots changed since you’ve been gone”. Its like I’m living a nightmare. When’s the next stop? I’d like to get off this ride now. Or this train or this boat.

I’m still not ready to live life with out you. I am getting used to this new path. But it’s not nearly the same. Of course it’s not. That’s obvious. I wish it wasn’t so blatantly true.

I wonder where your soul has wandered. Has it been to the depths of the sea? Did you swim with the whales with your spirit meshed with the water so blue? Did you sit with the bears with the rain hit the rocks. Did you dance with the eagles as they soared through the trees? I think of you as an ancestor now, so big and so strong.

Watch over me dad.

In 1824 the estimated population of Hwiltsum people was 1,000 but by 1849 the population was 122 living in Lamalchi Bay. For food, Lamalchi people were “the only people who regularly hunted sea-lions around the sound end of the Georgia-Straight ‘’(wikipedia). The Lamalchi people survived on seasonal-cycles and because of this they would fish for spring salmon and eulachon as well as pick berries and plants at Hwlitsum. When spring turned to summer, Lamalchi people fished for sockeye salmon. As summer turned to fall, the Lamalchi people would fish for coho and dog salmon. In the book ‘Be of Good Mind” Rocky Wilson gives some good historical facts on Lamalchi people. According to Rocky Wilson (pg 131),

“From late fall to early spring our people would engage in winter ceremonies,

where they would potlatch with their fellow tribes and conduct winter dances

and rituals and move around and visit other Coast Salish people.”

He goes on to say “although there was no clan system among the Coast Salish peoples, there were arranged marriages within the different tribes throughout the Coast Salish network.” Connections evolved and that’s why Coast Salish ties are so strong today.

Lamalchi tribes lived in village sites on the east coast of Vancouver Island and on the lower Fraser River, known as Canoe Pass. Rocky Wilson states, (pg.133)

“The reality is that, prior to European contact, the Coast Salish people

owned all of their territory.”

He goes on to explain that, (pg.133)

“the sense of ownership was different from that held by newcomers,

and conflicts with the Canadian government have arisen as a result

of these conflicting understandings.”

In 1884, the cultural genocide of native people was continued with Indian Act amendments that banned, potlatches, spirit dances, Coast Salish languages, and other ceremonial practices. In 1894, it was amended again but this time it was to allow residential schools for Indigenous children. In 1927, the Indian Act was amended again and this time Native people were denied ancestral rights and were denied to hire non-Native legal help to help navigate through their rights. As time went on the Canadian government continued to deny Lamalchi people their rights. Rocky Wilson goes on to talk about “a window of opportunity”(pg135) that presented itself. He explains how the DIA registration program embodied in bill C-31 was presented. He talks about how Lamalchi people started to pursue their rights to be registered under section 6 of the new Indian Act. This would help Lamalchi people regain their place in Coast Salish territory. The process ended up being long and by 1996 after repeated letters that had gone back and forth between the Lamalchi people and the DIA, the Lamalchi people had decided to file a statement of claim in the courts against the register of the DIA(pg135). More time passed and in 1999 Hwiltsum went back to court, but this time it was the Supreme Court of British Columbia. Again, some more time passed and in April 2000 after the judge had done her research, she had decided that ancestral status as Lamalchi/Hwiltsum did exist. And it was ruled that they were members of the Coast Salish community. Because of this decision, about 225 status Lamalchi/Hwlitsum members were able to rejoin the Coast Salish community. But because of the Indian Act, not all Lamalchi/Hwlitsum members were able to gain status and rejoin the Coast Salish community. Rocky Wilson says “we were still invisible in a sense because we didn’t have band status or a reserve base.”(pg136). Lamalchi moved forward and continued to honor their ancestors. The Lamalchi people filed an application on May 1 2000, and Rocky Wilson says that process is still ongoing. In 2003 the Department of Fisheries and Oceans had given Lamalchi/Hwlitsum people fishing rights. Rocky Wilson also goes on to talk about social meetings that were held with elders of the Hul’qumi’num Treaty Group (HTG) in 2003. He explains how HTG came into the Lamalchi community where the Lamalchi people provided a salmon feast and a tour of their ancient homelands. Then, on January 16, 2004 the Lamalchi people were asked to meet with the elders advisory board, which is part of the HTG. The elders unanimously passed a motion to accept the Lamalchi people into the HTG. Rocky Wilson explains how “it is still a complex situation.” Lamalchi people are recognized but not fully accepted at the treaty table. But Rocky Wilson also states that Lamalchi/Hwiltsum people will one day attain their place at the treaty table. His closing statement is, (pg.137)

“We fully believe that we are going to attain our place at the treaty table.

The bottom line for us is that, in doing this, we will be honoring our

ancestors and becoming visible again.”

The Lamalchi/Hwiltsum people have come along way since the British Navy bombed their village. And they still have a ways to go as far as getting the recognition and acceptance they deserve as Lamalchi/Hwiltsum people. But they are persevering and making progress moving forward. From fishing, hunting, and arranged marriages with other Coast Salish tribes, you can paint a bit of a picture of how the Lamalchi people lived. You can see how connected they are to their homelands. The Lamalchi people are strong resilient people that come from a strong and resilient tribe. One day they will get their seat at the treaty table. One day they will be able to fully honor their ancestors.

Growing up, my dad always talked about wanting to see a Spirit Bear. It was a dream of his. I believe it was a deep ancestral dream. He ended up seeing her. “She was a mama bear” he told me. Even though I wasn’t there, I feel the power and connection that bear and my dad shared. Something that only happens in mother nature. Sacred power. It’s beautiful and it’s important to take care of mother nature and her sacred beings. The animals. The trees. In return they take care of us. The cycles of our land are very important. We must protect those, too. Our teachings tell us that the land takes care of us and in return, we take care of her.

And then my dad died. Carbon Monoxide poisoning. The boat he was working on didn’t have alarms. Awful. Devastating. My whole fucking world, upside down.

So here I am navigating a completely new path. Having my brothers in addiction or passed, and both parents being dead – it’s just my daughter and I. Throw a breakup in the mix. And now it’s really a party.

But the real kicker was being blind sided by my work. Two years I worked there and they blind sided me over the holidays. I couldn’t believe it. That was a catapult into this other timeline. I’ll keep y’all updated. But it’s painful and it’s a little messy. The last half of my life has been messy though.

I lean into my spirituality when things get messy or painful. I have been working with archangel Michael and Lord Ganesh. And my dad of course. I visualize safety and obstacles being removed. I do this small ceremony in the shower. It’s important to feed your body with water while you visualize. Be under it. Be near it. Be in it. Water is a healer. Water acts as a portal.

The other morning, I walked into my kitchen. My string lights were on, and I had forgotten to blow out the candle on my counter. It felt soft and welcoming in my kitchen. I walked to blow the candle out and saw one of my tarot cards on the floor. I picked it up and it was the emperor card. What a sign. He is a sign of stability and structure, and it made me feel safe thinking about that. He is powerful and I thought of my dad and archangel Michael keeping me safe as I transition into this next chapter of my life. One that requires me to step out of the old way of living and into a new way of being.

The emperor shows us that we are in charge of our lives. We hold the power.

I have added the emperor to my visualization practices. He glows orange.

Orange symbolizes the sun. The emperor shines his light into your life.

And so, it is. And so, you receive.

I was reflecting on this past year. “2026 is the beginning of a new cycle” says numerology. There’s another cycle that occurs according to Rudolph Steiner. He said that each cycle is composed of seven years. Each cycle having its own challenges and rewards.

On Christmas, I was looking at my Facebook memories and saw a picture from 7 years ago of my stepmom and me. I was pregnant in this picture, and it occurred to me that 7 years ago I had started my healing journey after finding out I was pregnant. The next day as I was crying and having a moment, it occurred to me that my daughter would be 7 this year. My next thought was that I would be 34 this April. 3+4= 7. It gave me a full body confirmation. I’m starting a new cycle. My daughter is starting a new cycle. The last 5 months of this year have felt like I was being pushed to my limits so I could purge. Holy shit, I’ve been purging. My friend and I have been de cluttering my apartment the last month and a bit. I’ve purged the last 10 years of my life.

I thought I had found and settled into my career path. I thought this was it. But I was pushed and pushed until I had to jump. Take a leap of faith, as they call it. And I did. I finally left that guy, too. I was telling my therapist that it felt like I had to leave my job to be able to leave my relationship. And that if I had left my relationship first, it would have only been a matter of time before I left my job, too. I had to leave one to leave the other.

This Christmas I didn’t have the capacity to do much. This holiday I have spent it resting. It’s like my body knows I am starting anew. That she knows I need to rest to be able to accept all the beautiful things coming.