“I hate men, but I’m not a lesbian!”

I’m in Colorado for the weekend.  We planted a few trees early this morning, and are getting ready for another round of digging in the dirt.  It felt awesome to sleep under the stars (kinda.)  I mean, technically it’s impossible not to, but I was in a tent.  Nature is an excellent sleep aid.  I didn’t sleep particularly long, but it’s the quality that counts.  My cellular reception is better here than at home.  M. is surprised I brought my laptop.  I’m a soldier to my core.  Before I move to an even more remote location, I’m going to test the shit out of my equipment and develop some reliable redundancy.  (Is that redundant?) 🤣

We’ve spent hours talking about the future.  We’re going to help build a community of people who refuse the grid.  We’ll communicate via the internet.  People from all over the world who choose to stop abusing the planet.  This will take a lot of effort to convert from idea to reality.  Good thing I’m a wee bit on the obsessive side, eh?  My goal is to make the conversion affordable.  (To me, that means free.)  So anyone from anywhere can participate.  Absolute inclusion.  Be alive to enter.  (So I guess the dead aren’t invited but bring your best memories.)

M. is focusing on the medical side.  Lots of people on earth are elderly, infirm, dependents, and/or disabled, which determines the (new) standards.  The abled adjust, (this time.)

The quality of life of the least able among us determines the level of humanity, civility, and righteousness of the people.

I think we all know this, deep down.  Many pseudo-adults in our cancerous, existing status quo resent this, like toddlers.  They’re humanities disease.  We must heal what we can heal, for the sake of all.  I’m excited, most of all, but lots of other feelings, too.  It’s going to take a lot of time and every resource I can muster.  It’s going to take the will of lots of humans.  Striving spirits.

My time here has brought a smidgen of clarity to my thoughts regarding spirituality.  I’ve finally managed to define what it is regarding people I find so loveable.  I’m attracted to striving spirits.  I don’t care if you call it Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, atheism, or something  I haven’t heard of yet.  I don’t care if you call yourself a Latter Day Saint or Catholic, or Muslim, etc.

It’s your striving spirit I see and love instantly.  Striving to be all you can be. (The irony never stops. 🤣)  You’re on the road;  I’m waving you in for an embrace.  Sophistication isn’t in the cards for me. (I just proved it by thinking, “Whatever.”)  The Muse is still dancing on the wind.  She’s like a smile that won’t go away.  I love her.  (She knows Stevie Nicks!)  I know, I know.  “Geez, Alison, when are you going to chill about Stevie Nicks?”  Right?  Welp.  You’ve had (as much as) decades to relax, knowing she exists.  I was under a fucking rock, and have only had months.  So… gimme a few decades, alright?  Glad we had this talk. 🙃

Here’s a song I remember from my childhood that reminds me of Stevie Nicks:

Be like the bird

Who halting in her flight

On a limb too slight

Feels it give way beneath her

Yet sings, sings

Knowing she hath wings

Yet sings, sings

Knowing she hath wings


I’d better get back to work.  In case someone is inadvertently stung by the (random-ish) Seinfeld quote in the title, here’s my truth:  I don’t hate men.  If I could choose my sexuality, I would pick lesbian in a heartbeat.  (Women are so easy to love.  I just lack the desire to have sex with them, which I understand is a disqualifier.)  Off to dig and discuss. 💜


What do you tip a wood guy?

So what on earth is a real Christian, anyway?  I’m so glad you asked!  😂  I’m going to tell you what I think it means.  I’m an intuitive person.  I live my life like a real Christian because I find it logical.  I’m not a Christian.  I don’t believe the Holy Bible, or any other book is a Divine inspiration.  However, this doesn’t affect my desire to live in my spirit.  I do so because it’s my will.  It means I make choices based on what I believe to be righteous and good.

I abhor sin rather than hiding it, disguising it, lying about it, pretending I wasn’t aware, etc.  (Sin is doing what you know is wrong.)  If I know it’s wrong, I don’t try to skew reality to make it acceptable.  I check myself and correct myself.  This is what separates children from adults.  I’ve honed the ability to detect right from wrong by paying attention to what the universe teaches me and behaving only in ways my conscience approves.  (Doing what you know is wrong weakens your spirit, and nobody can hide the sins of their flesh from their spirit.  They’re connected.  Hello!)

I began by naming my conscience Jesus Christ and striving for his approval of my heart and actions.  (This is probably where most Christians start, assuming they also attend some sort of Sunday School or the equivalent.)  He’s been my imaginary friend since I was a young child.  As an American, this was done by rote.  It’s by design, but I don’t trust the motives.  (I do find it amusing I was able to make it work for me, despite what I strongly suspect was merely intended to control humans.)

As I grew and was exposed to more information, I gradually recognized reality versus what I was taught, and adjusted accordingly.  I purged my internal database of things I only knew by rote.  It hurt, sometimes.  I find the loss of belief quite painful, but endurable.  I had a similar reaction when I discovered my dad wasn’t Santa Claus (and parents can lie.)  I decided I held similar values as many of those espoused by the New Testament.  I also left room for my own beliefs and values because I’m responsible for me.  I’m responsible for my choices.  I’m an adult.

I don’t know if there is life after the death of our flesh.  I can imagine life continuing in spirit.  Our spirits aren’t subject to the laws of the known universe, and therefore, may be immune to decay.  The only issue in this regard I find concerning is the fact so many are oblivious to living in their spirit.  I don’t know the physics of how the spiritual plane works.  I try not to go too meta (because I doubt I’d come back.)  😂  I believe all that is alive is connected because I sense it.

If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be writing this.  I wouldn’t spend so much time nudging other spirits with love bombs (I’m so addicted to this.)  Instead, I would probably be wasting an extraordinary amount of energy hating 45 and Sessions and Mercer, etc.  As if that would do anything but weaken my spirit and immune system.  🙄  I know this because I found out the hard way, and learned it’s not worth it.  In fact, it’s counterproductive.  Hating something alive is ridiculous, and harmful to the hater.

When I find myself in a murderous rage against someone or something, I usually waste a few hours, energy, and tears writing a really long post about it.  Then I check myself by reading it later while my imaginary friend, Jesus Christ, reads over my shoulder.  It works incredibly well, I must say.  I have a Council of Wonder Women guiding me, too.  Lisa Bloom, Michelle Obama, Hillary Clinton, Malala Yousafzai,  Maya Angelou (her words are forever), Stevie Nicks, Beyoncè, Sheryl Crow, the leader of my resistance group, my resistance sisters, and all the people of the resistance, (all genders included, I just like calling them my Council of Wonder Women.)

It’s a big council, but they mostly remind me to think, be loving, and be myself.  I’m grateful (because I can imagine this blog and my Twitter feed if I didn’t have their wisdom guiding me.)  😲 😂  Part of being human is discovering your spirit.  It’s the part of you that isn’t bogged down with worldly concerns.  It’s our true self.  It’s the part of you I know exists, and already love.  Sometimes, I waste time wondering if people like Paul Ryan even have a spirit because they don’t behave as if they do.  I’m striving to cease this activity.

It makes more sense to assume everyone has one, no matter its state.  Some people are unapproachable in their flesh.  They’ve severed their connection to their spirit to a shocking degree, and require focused effort to connect with in the spiritual plane.  45 is an example.  I love-bomb his spirit because I can, (and my conscience insists.)  I have to go outside and walk on the lawn barefoot to focus my aim at such an elusive target, but I can do it.

People who live in their spirit are readily detectable.  They despise sin and take action to eradicate it from their life.  They’re honest.  They care about being righteous, not about what people think about them.  They live their beliefs from day to day.  It’s a lifestyle commitment to strive for what’s right, not an act to hide what’s not.  They live in their spirit, and it shows through their loving actions.  They’re attractive to other striving spirits in a non-fleshly way.

Many think they can fake it.  Fakes don’t believe in their own spirit and assume it’s all a game where they can cheat.  They embrace sin and strive to hide it in the world, or even alter reality, while their soul is naked, weakened, and exposed.  In fact, it’s a choice.  I’m uninterested in where the path of sin leads.  I choose to live in my spirit, where embracing sin makes me ill.  I pick love, life, and light.  I hope you do, too, but only you can decide.