Poverty is an Act of Violence

How interesting it was to read the opening statement of this video…..”Poverty is an act of violence”……..

I believe Canada is becoming a third world country. Marshal law, loss of the freedom to choose, restriction of movement and loss of identity. Of course there is the systematic destruction of small business across the country. With a increasing problem of shortages due to companies shutting their doors or the reduction of employees all causing production to fall in many areas. This means some often significant increases in cost for most of our goods, yet so many find themselves without sufficient hours at their place of employment, if they are able to work at all. All done under the guise of a pandemic. Our government is failing us, not that it ever worked on our behalf, but in recent years, it has begun to show just how lacking it is with regards to human rights. When people can be fired for telling the truth and information which offers valuable and constructive criticism (professional journalism out the window and trained facsimiles the only ones allowed to report) can be deleted you know we are living in a world of suppression…….it will only get worse because we allow them to lead us down this path. I fear it will not become obvious to the majority until food shortages begin. This is when people will realize they waited too long, but by then it is too late. The less we have as a general population, the easier it is to control our behaviour. The sad thing about all of this, is knowing it was preventable.

The video I have shared is one which gives me hope, despite my feelings we are sliding into a era of extreme poverty. Anytime I see cooperation with effort to bring a message out, I feel there is possibility for a brighter future. When it is done through music, the message has more strength because music is vibration, frequency, sending the message deeper into our subconscious. This is where change is made on an individual level. First we must change ourselves in order to bring about change on a larger scale.
It is a terrible time to be an empath. Each day I am overwhelmed by the energy around me in a way I could not have anticipated happening. It has made me realize a connection to my childhood, a time when I surely experienced the identical rush of human disarray. As a child this experience was indeed frightening, especially given the fact my life had been one of pure happiness. As I was torn apart with such brutality (at such a young age), my only recourse was to completely shut down. Experiencing similar disruptive behaviours as I did when I was a child has been disturbing, difficult to face. However yesterday. I realized this was indeed the path I was shown when I agreed to accept the challenge of this life, and must allow it to take me where I am meant to be. As part of my teachings, the Grandmothers instilled the knowledge I was given the choice before I was conceived to have this life. It is this acceptance that has given me the strength to keep going despite the many reasons to chose defeat. Today, I finally understand, my courage and strength was acknowledged by a higher power before my life began.
This became even more apparent this morning as I woke from my dream. Some of the dream is now lost, the people I was with familiar, their names no longer something I can remember now I am awake. But as often happens, the writing of my dream experiences opens the door to a deeper understanding. It was one of the grandmothers who helped me this morning, her gift to me was this understanding I am never without them.

I was with a family in my dream. It seems I was visiting them after a great length of time had passed, not seeing them. This couple had a daughter who would have been quite young the last time I had seen her, now a young woman. As our visit was coming to an end I went to hug the young woman, who tentatively hugged me back, yet she was somehow offended by my wish to do so. There was a similar situation, I believe, about a pandemic which did not permit close contact with others. She brushed off my energy as if I had contaminated her, and I was confused.
Her mother did not share the same fear as her daughter though and held me close. As is possible only in dreams, I found myself curled in her lap like a child enjoying the comfort of the motherly embrace I have not experienced since I was myself a small girl. I began to cry, expressing my sadness and how much I missed my family. She allowed me to have the time I needed to grieve. When I got up to leave another woman suddenly appeared, from where I do not know. But it seemed she had been there all along, was a friend of the family and someone I knew also. We got ready to leave together and this is when the dream took a very strange turn.
As we got on our coats and took a step towards the door our world completely changed. We were in an environment completely foreign to us, the landscape more like a frozen lake rather than the springtime environment of our small town. I have no idea where we were, but we were standing on this frozen lake, the woman now far from me where the ice was breaking exposing the water. There was a very large bear in the water, now creating something akin to a tidal wave shaking the ground she was trying to find solid footing on. I was screaming at her to hold on, I was coming to help, but as happens in dreams, my feet were moving, but I was making no headway. She seemed to get further away the more I tried to help. As I woke up I was left with the image of her sliding into the water as the bear waited for his prize.

Not really a pleasant way to wake up. As I write about it, I find the connection to my earlier comments, something I did not realize until I began to write this story. Despite my willingness to help others throughout my life, it seemed my efforts were mostly ineffective. This was part of the lesson the Grandmother wished for me to see, this knowledge my experiences would fall on deaf ears throughout my life. Not giving up on my truth, the most important aspect of my journey.

Either people did not want to hear my thoughts, listened, but did not agree, or felt I did not know enough to offer an opinion. No matter the reason, my experience in life has been much like how I felt in this dream as I struggled to help someone, watching as she slipped further and further away to her death. The experience of my ability to help being completely out of my hands seemingly directly connected to the loss of my birth/surrogate family. The damage done during those years of my early life damaging my psyche, my ability to be my true self, the fight to regain this loss my biggest challenge. The loss immeasurable throughout time, even though I have remembered who I am. Too much time has passed for me to find the means (at least to date) to have the impact my being in this world would have possibly had were I to have been allowed to remain myself.

The masks, the shame, the lack of close contact and the fear our children are experiencing now as we allow the lies of pandemic nightmare to continue, destroying our youth. We are without even giving it a second thought, exposing a whole generation to a similar fate as I experienced, something which I have openly shared. That no one is listening, is clearly the message of my dream this morning; the young woman who was afraid of human contact with someone she did not know, the adult I watched slide to her death, both a representation of what we, in general, are allowing.
Parents are responsible for the protection of their children yet their children are being subjected to this form of torture as they sit back doing nothing to stop it. The fear of cases, cases, cases overriding instinct. We do not make the best decisions while we are in fight or flight mode. The long term affects of what our children and grandchildren are experiencing, something which should be at the the forefront of our thoughts, is buried under the fear perpetrated by this hoax. We are not protecting them, we are destroying them.