PJ., some person, some person, Amber, some person

Yes, I love my siblings.

The Meaning of Education

Even more reminders from Napoleon Hill:

The word educate has its roots in the Latin word educo, which means to develop FROM WITHIN; to educe; to draw out; to grow through the law of USE.

Nature hates idleness in all its forms. She gives continuous life only to those elements which are in use. Tie up an arm, or any other portion of the body, taking it out of use, and the idle part will soon atrophy and become lifeless. Reverse the order, give an arm more than normal use, such as that engaged in by the blacksmith who wields a heavy hammer all day long, and that arm (developed from within) grows strong.

Power grows out of ORGANIZED KNOWLEDGE, but, mind you, it "grows out of it" through application and use!

An "educated" person is one who knows how to acquire everything he needs in the attainment of his main purpose in life, without violating the rights of his fellow men.

Harmony

More from Napoleon Hill:

"Harmony" seems to be one of Nature's laws, without which there can be no such thing as ORGANIZED ENERGY, or life in any form whatsoever.

The health of the body as well as the mind is literally built around, out of and upon the principle of HARMONY! The energy known as life begins to disintegrate and death approaches when the organs of the body stop working in harmony.

The moment harmony ceases at the source of any form of organized energy (power) the units of that energy are thrown into a chaotic state of disorder and the power is rendered neutral or passive.

Success in life, no matter what one may call success, is very largely a matter of adaptation to environment in such a manner that there is harmony between the individual and his environment. [That is the most important line out of this whole thing, to me.]

The palace of a king becomes as a hovel of a peasant if harmony does not abound within its walls. Conversely stated, the hut of a peasant may be made to yield more happiness than that of the mansion of the rich man, if harmony obtains in the former and not in the latter.

If the student gathers the impression that the author is laying undue stress upon the importance of HARMONY, let it be remembered that lack of harmony is the first, and often the last and only, cause of FAILURE!

Good architecture is largely a matter of harmony. [I would say, definitely yes. Architecture that mimics nature's fractals and sacred geometry or cyclical nature, is everlasting. Healing. Speaks the language of the soul.]

Sound business management plants the very sinew of its existence in harmony. [I like to give what you like to receive.]

Every well dressed man or woman is a living picture and a moving example of harmony.

With all these workaday illustrations of the important part which harmony plays in the affairs of the world -- nay, in the operation of the entire universe -- how could any intelligent person leave harmony out of his "Definite Aim" in life? As well have no "definite aim" as to omit harmony as the chief stone of its foundation.

[This part is all about Integrity and acting as you think, speaking what you know, being as you are; seeing yourself in all things, and all that pollyanna goodness. Cure a schizophrenic mind by defining your aim and aligning/creating your life to be it:] Every human being possesses at least two distinct mind powers or personalities, and as many as six distinct personalities [I bet these personalities are the mechanisms you use to protect yourself -- from what? What threatens your sense of identity..?] have been discovered in one person. One of man's most delicate tasks is that of harmonizing these mind forces so that they may be organized and directed toward the orderly attainment of a given objective. Without this element of harmonyno individual can become an accurate thinker. [Remember: organized thought and effort = power. Fractured minds, or minds lacking in courage of purpose (or lacking in purpose) are without power/cause.]

Twilight of the Idols, Nietzsche

8. Towards a psychology of the artist.

For art to exist, for any sort of aesthetic activity or perception to exist, a certain physiological precondition is indispensable: intoxication. Intoxication must first have heightened the excitability of the entire machine: no art results before that happens. All kinds of intoxication, however different their origin, have the power to do this: above all, the intoxication of sexual excitement, the oldest and most primitive form of toxication. Likewise the intoxication which comes in the train of all great desires, all strong emotions; the intoxication of feasting, of contest, of the brave deed, of victory, of all extreme agitation; the intoxication of cruelty; intoxication in destruction; intoxication under certain meteorological influences, for example the intoxication of spring; or under the influence of narcotics; finally the intoxication of the will, the intoxication of an overloaded and distended will. -- The essence of intoxication is the feeling of plenitude and increased energy. From out of this feeling ones gives to things, one compels them to take, one rapes them -- one calls this procedure idealizing....

9. In this condition one enriches everything out of one's own abundance: what one sees, what one desires, one sees swollen, pressing, strong, overladen with energy. The man in this condition transforms things until they mirror his power -- until they are reflections of his perfection. This compulsion to transform into the perfect is -- art. Even all that which he is not becomes for him none the less part of his joy in himself; in art, man takes delight in himself as perfection.

pg. 82-83

"Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish."

Sucksy

I had the best day today. I always have the best days when I expect them to suck; I should expect days to suck more often. My day should have sucked, but I just don't have the "this day sucks" mentality in me. HEHE!

My Day, by Sonya Gibson.

I awoke a little late, and then noticed that I had bled all over myself a little early. I was as pleased as punch.

Checked out the inside of my fridge. Had some left-over Thai food; enjoyed it muchly. (Thanks!)

Cleaned up nicely, donned my day apparel and walked out the door with my bike (not without banging my handlebars, pedal and wheel against the door on my way. *bows*)
Biked to the Aquarium in the torrential downpour. Holy crap, man; halfway down the block, I was wetter than usual. Than on other rainy days. I mean the rain was REALLY coming down. With every upward rotation of the pedal, I could see the water squeezed out of my black spongepants as they pressed down against my upper legs. (I almost wrote about "thighs" there, and used descriptors (heaving, pumping, etc), until I recognized that this is not my other forum.)

I made it to work right on time, drenched. Really wet. Really very. Then, wearing my soaked pants, I jumped into my dry raingear. I don't really know why I did that.

Helped Phil with his gardening stuff. Said hello to all the people who work at the Aquarium. Talked to the guy who bikes through the front area on occasion while I do the ritual hosing-off; he jumped off of his bike and set it on the ground and asked if I could 'go nuts' and spray off the junk on his bike's gears. It was fun for me. I don't know why I was so happy. I think I liked that he'd so easily trusted that I would hose the gears down as though we were old drinking buddies or had bonded in 'Nam or some shit. Unspoken bond.

Phil and I went whistling downstairs, loudly, oblivious, into the beluga zone, disrupting a huge staff meeting just so we could score a couple of blueberry scones and muffins. =D Worth it!

The rest of the day I was a slacker (Mike had told me earlier in the day, that "it's okay to sit around and do nothing" -- woohoo! My first threat!) So, not to be the oddball, I chillaxedddd. It was fun.

But then later I did all my work plus all Meghan's work, hahah, to make up for my morning fun times. Atonement. Anddd during my time of proactive productivity, I talked to lots of people again. First, a woman asked me, "What kind of algae is that red algae there?" I didn't know, so I told her I'd find out and be right back. So I went to find Mike. Mike didn't know, so we went to find the naturalists. They were clothed, and I felt shafted. Ohhhhh, those are the naturists, right. So the naturalists are the interpreters who explain to the public what the aquarium creatures are and why they are all dying, essentially, and what humans are doing to fuck-up less. Except not in those words -- thus they are the interpreters and translators. So I met the naturalists and they were extremely helpful. I take back everything unbecoming I once thought/said about Lindsay. She's good people. We determined, after a short game of charades in which I showcased my less than stellar 'physically illustrative of algae' abilities, that the algae was really seaweed, and that it was one of two species of primrose seaweed native to the BC coastline. I thanked my team of nerdy smart girls, told the algae-woman the info, and then she gave me a sheet with more questions, so I went back to the office and we all bonded again. Team-building exercises are fun.

I was watching the fish for a moment when two kids started asking me questions about why the octopus was eating the crabs. And then they were asking me harder questions, like do these aquariums mimic the natural habitats realistically or merely functionally? And what's the difference? And then because I was using big words, some adults came over and started asking me "are these anemones the ones that you touch and then they pull into themselves?" The most important thing I have learned in the last while is the power of accepting, "I don't know." And of saying, "I don't know." It helps to give credibility to these words by carrying a broom, or by showing excess saliva at critical moments as the inquisitives approach.

I was going to bluff and say, "Yes, this is a white anemone," but I would have been way off.

I like flowers. OH. And then later in the office, my peeps were talking about beatniks and hippies and mushrooms and sacred geometry and about making sweet love to mother earth. "Sticking it" to mother earth, I think was the phrase. Beautiful. And it was beautiful. And then we all shared stories about loving the earth. I didn't have one so I made one up about a horse, thinking that that would be the safe course; but no, I just came off looking mightily perverted.

Later, biked home in the rain, smiling the entire way (because home time is the most fun). Once home, stripped, had a nap.

I was really happy. I wanted to be happy and to defend nothing.

"Never forget, you give but to yourself." - ACIM

Fun at Beaver Lake

I didn't see any beavers.


Trish's squirrel on the prowl for some nuts.


[posted this the other day but the photos did not load properly]

what is it for?

Not too enamoured with this blog's layout, yet I do not want to go through the fun of changing the template again. But sometimes ya just gotta. Later.

The best internet radio station is somafm because I listen to it all the time and have decided thusly.

To stop talking like a freak.

Ummmm lately, the sun is shining. And this blog is fading in importance to me. I am amusing myself in other ways.

Peace out.

(And of course now that I've stated this, I will write in this online stage like never before.)

bring happiness

Wellll let me tell you what fun I made for myself today: I saw many people. Many people asked me questions. Many people received blank stares. I directed at least two people away from where they said they wanted to go, haaa. Not on purpose. But I'm sure they made it to where they needed to go.

Why is it that when I am wearing a uniform, people (especially women with children) suddenly talk to me in a fake happy voice? Similar to the polite phone voice. To be fair, the voice isn't fake happy; the voice is plastic. Melted plastic, slighty toxic when heard. *white light white light white light*

A little boy saw me and then asked his mother, "Is that a boy or a girl?" Haha, geez, man! Seriously? The answer is, "Yes."

Happy dreams come true, not because they are dreams, but because they are happy."

That was a weird place to stick that quote, I know. ;)

"Without a clear vision of the future, we flounder in the present."
(Sally Ride, America's first woman in space)

Immune to your charms

"I finally realised the fact the only thing that would keep me healthy was a functional immune system." - Eve Hillary

Today's Craft Project: How to care for your immune system.

Go for a walk outside.
Feel the air we share.
Laugh out loud.
Smile at everything.
Relax a lot.
Stretch your back.
Smell a flower.
Kiss and hug.
The flower.
Use your brain to make up a convincing-sounding story to the few bold people who actually stop to ask about why you're hugging and kissing a flower.
Go home and relax in the knowledge that you have facilitated public discussion and community-building by exercising your body and sense of beauty and creativity and humility.
Cry for no reason, and then cry for the reasons that come up. Oh, and come up they will. Like spring flowers.
Think about someone who really loves you. Think about how many times you've really fucked up. Cry again. See? This is fun.
Think strange thoughts that normally would not slip past your unconsious censors:
You are going to die tomorrow. Now what?
You're talking to the flower that you have plucked in your haste to hide the evidence of your insanity. The flower is already plucked and dead, but it won't look dead to the world until tomorrow. It has time to do more things while looking alive. And it does look alive, so its effect is the same.
You are sane, and those who misunderstand, like to play with the sane to catch a glimpse of the sane secret. To be sane.
The secret is to smell flowers when and where you want to smell flowers.
You plucked the flower and ended its life. This is fine for the flower. The flower gave you some love. You felt good smelling the flower. Next time, maybe you can leave the flower to grow, and it can grow love in some other sane people's hearts. And nose.
You know what the flower is.
Take with you what the flower nose is.


Oh yes, immunity. For your immune system to function properly, give me lots of money and believe everything you read except what doesn't fit your experience.
Dr. Sonya.
Ph.D Micrographology
B.S.

Okay.

Well, I'm leaving this apartment at the end of the month. I am happy. I am happy either way, hah! But this way, in a way, is more exciting. More adventures into the unknown. Sure, every moment is unknown, but when you REALLY know that someone else is renting out your place, and you have to either leave your living quarters, or room with a non-speaky-english guy, at that point you KNOW you aren't going to be here in a month; which means for sure you don't know where you're going to be. I understand what I'm saying.

So the new guy wants to show prospective roomies this apartment and wants me to be here everyday at a certain time, to let him in to bring people through the place. I think that this request, though reasonable and understandable, is somewhat bullshit. I am renting here for the month of March. I do not want to be here everyday at an agreed upon time (6 pm) just so he can show someone how wonderful is the place in which I will not be living. Is my thinking out of line? I can't tell anymore.

It's really not a big deal to just stay and live with him. But. I think at some level -- the level that makes all my decisions -- I want to leave, even though this place is located in the best spot in Vancouver. And close to Davie Street. And close to my favourite fast-food sushi place. And close to my favourite organic grocery store. And close to everything. And close to everyone. Fuck.

;-)

2010 Winter Olympics E-mail Forward

[Someone sent this to me and I thought it worth a posting]

2010 Winter Olympics


Now that Vancouver has won the chance to host the 2010 Winter Olympics these are some questions people the world over are asking!!!! Believe it or not these questions about Canada were posted on an International Tourism Website (frightening, isn't it!)

Obviously the answers are a joke; but the questions were really asked!!!!!.



Q: I have never seen it warm on Canadian TV, so how do the plants grow?( UK)

A We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around and watch them die.

Q: Will I be able to see Polar Bears in the street? ( USA)

A: Depends on how much you've been drinking.

Q: I want to walk from Vancouver to Toronto-can I follow the Railroad tracks? ( Sweden)

A: Sure, it's only Four thousand miles, take lots of water.

Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in Canada? ( Sweden)

A: So it's true what they say about Swedes.

Q: It is imperative that I find the names and addresses of places to contact for a stuffed Beaver. ( Italy )

A: Let's not touch this one.

Q: Are there any ATM's (cash machines) in Canada? Can you send me a list of them in Toronto, Vancouver, Edmonton and Halifax? ( UK)

A: What did your last slave die of?

Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Canada? ( USA )

A: A-fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe. Ca-na-da is that big country to your North...oh forget it. Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Calgary. Come naked.

Q: Which direction is North in Canada? ( USA)

A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees Contact us when you get here and we'll send the rest of the directions.

Q: Can I bring cutlery into Canada? ( UK)

A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.

Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? ( USA)

A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is...oh forget it.

Sure, the Vienna Boys Choir plays every Tuesday night in Vancouver and in Calgary , straight after the hippo races. Come naked.

Q: Do you have perfume in Canada? ( Germany )

A: No, WE don't stink.

Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth.Can you sell it in Canada? ( USA)

A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.

Q: Can you tell me the regions in British Columbia where the female population is smaller than the male population? ( Italy)

A: Yes, gay nightclubs.

Q: Do you celebrate Thanksgiving in Canada? ( USA)

A: Only at Thanksgiving.

Q: Are there supermarkets in Toronto and is milk available all year round?( Germany)

A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of Vegan hunter/gathers. Milk is illegal.

Q: I have a question about a famous animal in Canada, but I forget its name. It's a kind of big horse with horns. ( USA)

A: It's called a Moose. They are tall and very violent, eating the brains of anyone walking close to them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.

And my personal favourite...........

Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? ( USA)

A: Yes, but you will have to learn it first.



Send this on to any who you think will enjoy it as much as I have.

Did I ...?

The Guy, Manager
Building and Grounds Department
The Place
P.O. Box 8080 Vancouver BC V0X 311
Fax: (604) 888 - 7070
Email: TheGuy@ThePlace.org

Deadline for applications: The Date


To Mr. The Guy:

Thank you for considering my application to join your Buildings and Grounds Department. While engaged in my studies and side-projects (I am a student of natural building techniques), I would enjoy and excel at a part-time position where I can work behind-the-scenes and interact with and uplift the people I meet.

I have extensive gardening and ecology experience thanks to my learning position at UBC's Centre for Plant Research, and to a youth spent cavorting in the nude in the countryside (it's good to know what plants not to sit on). My initiative and priority-setting capabilities are honed daily in my entrepreneurial pursuits, and were surprisingly evident while managing an organic farm on Salt Spring Island two years ago. My ability to adapt to changing situations has guaranteed my spot on the spotless state of spot-changing mind. (It's a state that doesn't exist as the founders haven't stayed in one spot long enough to establish a community. MMmmmm, yum, pretzels. What's the topic again?)

I have had many opportunities to communicate clearly and diplomatically with the public. I have worked in a busy downtown sales office, meeting many people from diverse backgrounds and integrating with them seamlessly. Once, a young couple mistook me for one of their siamese children. We all laughed uproariously. I like people and it shows.

Hard work is a friend of mine. I invested a year of my short life in a Plant lab, conducting experiments and collecting data and washing piles of glassware. There, patience, routine and protocol were hailed as gods. The gods of the lab bitches. From this, I learned to fulfil my duties and to practice what I already know -- to give more than what I ask for -- and to keep my smartass mouth shut. This ain't no democracy. When I live my understanding of the universal law, good things happen for me.

Groundskeeping interests me in a psychological and outdoors/physical exercise way: Harmonious, well-cared for surroundings positively influence mood and elicit happier expressions from the people visiting the space. The conditions create the outcome. Attitude determines outcome. I hope to see clean harmonious environments everywhere that thus encourage the highest expression of goodness from all who visit these spaces of reflected beauty. (It sounds cheesy but there are studies proving the positive correlation between health of mind and the harmonious appearance of surroundings. Aesthetics is necessary for the heightening, and potential-actualization, of the soul.) And, even if I've created this fact out of thin air right now, this is further evidence of my quick-thinking ability to bullshit my way out of anything. That's a good skill to have mastered by a shining member on your janitorial team. I could make up stuff to help you cover your ass in case you spill some toxic chemical into a public playground area. That's just the beginning; Imagine the possibilities.

I work well alone and keep the lines of communication open. I have a great attitude bordering on pollyanna-ish; some would say I've crossed that line long ago. I focus on my work and complete my goals in a calm and effective manner.

I am available for Monday, Wednesday and other shifts. Actually, I don't want the job, I just wanted to write an application for it. Thanks for your time,

Sincerely hoping you don't call,
Sonya

home is where the heart is in my chest

um, so i can live here for march, and then come april, share the place with a non-english-speaking person whom may or may not try to kill me in my sleep; or, i can move somewhere else. anyone want to go to new zealand?

the building manager has found a tenant FOR us, for this apartment. nice. yesterday, he and the new eager to cleave her beaver tenant guy showed up. the new no-speaky-engly guy seems all right, but looks a little too happy at the thought of rooming with a girl. suspicious. and he looks typically croatian. i don't know what that means. he looks tall and dark and scary but smiles a lot. i don't mind so much, but jumpei (current roommate who is moving out soon) is telling me, "i don't know about that guy. he might not be safe. i would not want you to stay here with him."

it's cute, really.

it's alarming how laid back i am about this development. i find it exciting! i go for walks to the beach in the daytime, the wind throwing me all over the street, my body close to tears of pleasure and pain. and then i think of hobbes and his, "all that motivates are appetites and aversions." and i wonder which motivates more... depends on personality. i would work harder to attain something, than to avoid something. i feel alive again; the threat of losing one's life does that to a person.

hah, i joke. i want to see if my mom reads this and calls me. it's been a few days, mom. call. hear my voice before my voice on the answering machine as killer does his work is the last sound you hear from me. but on the bright side, you could replay it over and over and think of me and regret my wasted singing career. i gots a good pair o' lungs. check out the coroner's report for pics.