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How I found my secret to life*…

*my life.


I haz one.

So, I’m back from making a conscious choice to live outside for the past 10 days, family in tow, camping at one of the largest spiritual festivals in Canada, Kaleidoscope Gathering.

Bat-shit crazy?

Only if I didn’t learn anything from it! 😉

What did I learn, you ask?

I learned the secret to life, of course. And I’mma gonna share it…because I can…

First off!! RECAP!!

Unicorns. True story.

Rainbows. Unrelated true story.

Heroes. True story.

(…have you ever been hailed in the pale moonlight…)

Smiles and giggles and laughter and sun and warmth and vendors and river-so-cold I’m glad my “set” are on the inside cuz if they weren’t before…they’d be in there now!! (o.O)

Friends and family and connections with the land that I love…

Of finding happy moments of “Colour!!” and sending out the most colourful cards I could possibly find (Ed Hardy…of course) to people I know (and a few I really don’t quite know yet!) simply to spread a little smile or a little gratitude.

Their smile, in turn, made me smile. It’s like its own damn Wella Balsam commercial. It was a kind of “pay it forward”, if you will…for a mere “like” here, or “retweet” there…of listening or supporting my journey…

Of remembering a woman so profound to so many people in the chronically afflicted community…

I shared a horn of mead with dear friends in her honour before I walked up the path to the Sacred Well…offerings in hand of grain and nut…to her patroness, Cerridwen…I passed cascading rows of Goldenrod and Black-eyed Susans, Mullein and Milkweed…I read aloud the words of  Daniel, and I read aloud her response…I wrapped the vows around her memorial slip and I attached my moonstone ring, in significance of that which only they would understand…I miss you, Rhian. I miss you more than words could ever tell…*pours mead into the Well*…Hail, and farewell my beautiful friend…

I saw two ravens fly high above me and I giggled as eleventy-billion little frogs jumped out of my way on the way to the Vé…my jingling anklet giving them fair notice of my approaching steps.

I wore shirts so bright it would have probably have been a total mind-fuck if anyone had been inebriated…just sayin’. 😉

How did I come to my grand epiphany, then?


It started with a seed planted by my life coach.

It grew as I nurtured my spirit.

It appeared as epiphanies seem to do…out of the cosmos like a Mac truck covered in neon lights (all about the colour!!)

What’s the secret to life?

It’s all in the wording, isn’t it?


Making a Choice.

See, when we make…when I make…a choice, what I’m really doing is owning my shit. I’m owning the concept and circumstance of the choice that I make.

Own it.
Own it.


I cannot blame my mother, the baker or a cosmos-maker…but I also cannot should-have, would-have, could-have about a choice I did not take (aka, the “other” option available).



Not making a decision.

Making A choice.

Clear as mud?


A conclusion or resolution reached after consideration.
The action or process of deciding something or of resolving a question.


An act of selecting or making a decision when faced with two or more possibilities.


I make the choice to get out of bed in the morning. Thus, I will not muse about the other options, as they are no longer necessary in my thought process.

I make the choice to have an *angryBrynn* day. Thus, I will not invalidate the feeling of emotional turmoil during a fight against an autoimmune disease.

I make the choice to remember friends who have passed on. Thus, I acknowledge both the life and death cycle of Lupus.

I make the choice to be a public representation of health advocacy. Thus, I will not permit those who strive to undermine my integrity by rumour or gossip to affect my ability to be what I need to be to those who need me.

When I make a choice, I must accept that other possibilities no longer exist, until such time as I am faced with another set of possibilities to ponder within a different circumstance.


Choice is a fluid, dynamic concept. At any time, I can make a choice that will alter my current circumstance. And so on…and so on…

Once my choice is made, I can accept that that is what is necessary to my condition at that time.

I can sure-as-shit tell you right now, my dear friends, that I am at a level of peace with myself that I have not had in…well, I’m not entirely certain that I ever had much of a level of personal peace to begin with.

One moment of my experiences at the festival will particularly ring clear across my soul for awhile to come…

When the band was playing…

(Tuatha Dea…check them out…they are SO much fun!)

…I made the choice to dance.

My choice was to dance. Thus, I could not focus on pain or sensitivity. Pending I was not pushing myself or that the pain was no more than “normal”…I did what I do best:

I closed my eyes in the hopes of avoiding eye contact with anyone who might be having a gander at my Go, Go SpazzyAss! and just let’er’go.

It was empowering in a way that I cannot describe.

It was a freedom the likes of which have been unseen to me in years. It wasn’t just a physical freedom…

It was like some kind of Level Up! SOUL kind of freedom.

This surpassed the “Well, if I’m going to hurt anyway…” and reached right into the very crevasse where Lupus lies within me and it took that sum’bitch and ass-kicked it six ways to Sunday.


I haz it. 😉

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