God is NOT My Co-Pilot

“God is my co-pilot.”  Like many sayings, it’s one that always seemed to be there. A statement of hope and guidance. Until the moment you really pay attention. That’s when it becomes laughable. If God is my co-pilot that means I have some kind of control.


A couple of weeks ago I took my first plane trip since I was 6 years old. After many decades and a different world, it counts as my first. Our pilot informed us that we were going to drive around to another runway only because the wind direction had changed ever so slightly. Being afraid of heights, I considered closing my window shade and concentrating on my books or music. But, curiosity got the best of me. I  watched as the wings flexed and vented before take-off. I looked out as we soared far above the clouds. It was what I like to call Delightfully Terrifying. I loved every moment and plan on traveling more. In fact, if I had my way I’d become a future travel writer.

While we were above the clouds I thought about how much we put our trust into the hands of the pilots and staff  every time we fly. Turbulence and turning were two things I could not completely get used to. There were times I could look at the shapes and colouring of clouds and prepare myself for the  upcoming turbulence, but other times it was more unexpected.

The flight home was just as wonderful, yet, being after dark a little more concerning. The wonderful older gentleman sitting in seat 4B talked me through some of the rougher turbulence, as he informed me he had been traveling for 22 years and this was all normal. He talked to me about the view of Seattle and it was worth the night time view of the vibrant city.

It was  on that flight home when I thought about how much flying is like living. We have no real control other than what we do in our own little section of the world. We trust that everything will turn out well and that the turbulence won’t last too long. Every once in a while, we end up with a seat mate who is a balance of good conversation and intelligent silence.

2016 has been another one of those years that has been a harsh lesson in learning to let go of expectations and how little control we really have. Many deaths have and sad times have happened to many. Yet. in years to come we will hold onto the memories that were good about the year.


We look forward to 2017 with the same hope in our personal lives that we go forward with every year.For me, 2017 will be the year of “Semper et deinceps”: Always Forward!

What will your theme be?

7 Thoughts on Thankfulness

The other week, I started planning my editorial calendar. Going through my old articles, I realized I have been very neglectful of the actual writing process of Being Artemis for the past year. What a year it has been!

Last year, I heard a little voice that asked, “Would you give up everything you have to have everything you ever wanted?” What a question! I thought I could… Except I would never give up my children. Then, I went on with my walk, because that’s what you do when you near little voices asking weird questions, just so we convince ourselves we aren’t really insane.

This year, I did just that. My marriage ended. I got a full time job. I moved into my first apartment. Last week, I financed my first car and am trying to come up with things to sell in the next three weeks, so I can pay for it. I talk to my children every day and we see each other often. I am living the life of a millennial at the age of 42. Only, I have no real social life to speak of. (After I wrote that last sentence, my cat looked horribly offended).

I have had friends write and call to tell me they are simultaneously concerned and admire all I have done in such a short time. I tell them not to fret, but there are many nights I cry myself to sleep and am fearful of what I have done.

Yet, I have a lot to be thankful for, as I have many blessings.

  • My children. I love them more than anything. They are the most wonderful people I know and I can’t imagine life without them. My daughter was the reason the Facebook page continued through the summer months.
  • My cat. We met on Halloween night. Now, she’s lying on my chest as I type. She is highly intelligent, has a fascination with my tablet and anything that moves. She has listened to my French and guitar lessons. She has put a paw on my face when I cried and cuddles every chance she gets.
  • My friends. They have fed me and helped me without asking anything in return. They have been great cheerleaders.
  • My apartment. When I was younger, I had ideas on what I wanted in a home. This has it all. It is the cute in so many ways.
  • My job. My plan is to go back to blogging, freelancing, and selling through my Victory Rose online shop, next year. But, my job has been a great stepping stone. I am forever grateful for that.

Next year, I want to make this blog go full force. My original plan was about reaching women who felt alone, hopeless, or had low self esteem. If I can get one other person to not feel as I did for so many years, I will be a success. Once this blog gets more of a following, I want to start a meetup where we can encourage one another and learn extra skills and/or share or talents.

Being Artemis is about being who you are meant to be. It isn’t always easy and it is terrifying. But, if you want something enough, anything can happen.

What are you thankful for today?


Divorce: Death and Rebirth

Without getting into the whys and hows and whats, I am in the limbo part of a break up. Limbo, because I am still saving up so I can move out. Meanwhile, I am sleeping on the couch.  I also have a long commute on my city’s freakishly slow bus system. Don’t cry any tears for me.  My worst days are better than the average once were.  There are no bad guys in this. Although, I do feel massive guilt about deciding I wanted to change how things were.

While I am taking inventory, taking mental notes on separating our accounts, and getting ready to turn all the financial planning over, I realize it feels so much like dying. In a way, it is. I have murdered my old self. The person I once was is dead. All I am doing now is setting up the funeral. The woman I am, and have yet to become, is working toward rebirth. A friend of mine compared it to the Phoenix.

There is no way to wax poetic about this process. These are heartbreaking, uncertain times. There are also moments of wonderful realization and happiness. The future is not set in stone and  there are so many possibilities for what can be. This is the first time I have lived in the Now.  While I shed many tears when I think of what was and what I leave behind, I also think of the incredible people I never would have met if my life had stayed the same.

It’s a process of letting go and goodbye, while praying and hoping the rebirth will be an even more Beautiful life.10537117_10153044883181477_2628862186492174926_n

Do you want to be a part of Being Artemis? Share your story of strength or send your ideas about future articles to midnightflashpoint@gmail.com.

Are You Afraid to Be Happy?

What is your biggest fear? Heights? Clowns? Losing your family? How about being happy? It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? We all want to be happy. Who would be silly enough to be afraid of happiness?
azieser-Smiley-Yellow-and-BlackLast week, I was washing dishes before my husband came home. My house smelled of incense, coffee, and lavender. It was a beautiful scent that made me happy, music was playing, and all was well. So, why did my happy dishwashing become more and more worrisome? I worried about if my husband would make it home safely. I worried more when I called his phone and he didn’t answer. When he did call to tell me he was on his way home, I worried when he took 50 minutes to get home, instead of his usual half hour. Once he got home, I was relieved.  What was I so worried about in the first place?


Then, last night. I went to sleep, eager for the morning.

We just got a dryer, so I can finally get through the ginormous pile of laundry and declutter.  As I went to sleep, I thought  about the plans I was making for getting everything tidied and selling what I no longer love, getting my writing projects in order, and what I wanted to do first thing in the morning. I was as excited as a little girl waiting for her birthday.

Then, I went to sleep and woke up. I had a dream about looking at my bedroom window and seeing dancing lights. Or, had the window been dancing. You know how silly dreams are. But, what if it wasn’t a dream? What if I had seen lights and it meant someone had been in my backyard stealing my children’s bikes? After realizing the silliness of that idea, my mind

thought it might great fun to remind me that the

dog had been asleep at bedtime, so hadn’t been taken out.
(a) What if she wakes up in the middle of the night and goes to the bathroom indoors?
or (b) What if she suddenly dies because she didn’t go and had kidney failure? How would we deal with this?

funny-brain-sleepCan anything sound more STUPID? Well, yes, in the light of day, it’s obvious, but in the middle of the night? Hey! Let’s go back to thinking about someone sneaking into my backyard. Maybe they also carted off the ice chests, the lawnmower, and the bench. But, I had to be lying around sleeping.

Obviously, everything in the backyard was untouched and the dog was sleeping on a cushion with her paw over her face.

But, that’s not all. As I make plans to expand my writing projects, I’m considering crowd funding for one and fussing with myself about whether or not to do it. “What if no one donates?” “Is this incredibly stupid to ask my friends and acquaintances for money?”  “How do I write a plan?” “What if…What if…. What if….!?”  There’s that feeling in the pit of my stomach and there is no reason why. Only my own anxiety and fear that I have trained myself to expect the worst for so long.

When people talk about the Law of Attraction, they say we attract what we focus on. Good or bad. Then, we wonder why things don’t get better. It sounds so simple. Focus on what you want and you’ll attract that. Only, there is a part that is so used to holding on to what is expected, anything new is scary. Even Good changes.

Could your Fear of Happiness aka The Unknown Path be standing in your way? What are your thoughts?

Gone Too Soon

The first time I talked to Alex, he was curled up on a camp chair, trying not to cry. It was February, 2006. We were both part of the SCA and this was our big Estrella War event . That particular day, Alex wasn’t allowed to go to a volunteer pizza party, because of some nonsense. When I asked him what was wrong, he responded with a defensive, “Why do you care?”
“Because,” I said. “You’re my son’s friend and if you’re upset, it bothers me.”
The honest truth is, it took all I had to have this conversation with this 12 year old. I am not the best at dealing with children, who aren’t my own, especially not someone who didn’t want comforting.
From my  Livejournal:

“Meanwhile, Alexander the Great was lying on two camp chairs in the kitchen area looking very sad as his family left for the pizza party. He was grounded because of his attitude.
It felt tense with just him lying in those chairs. We began to talk a little. I also found out he had paid a lot of attention to Moses. He said he thought that Moses had been lonely when he was there. He would whimper when the children in the encampment left. He also talked about how cute he thought it was when Moses would twitch his paws in his sleep.
Soon he was introducing Matt (who had been brought back) and me to his Mastiff, Thor, and his other dog, who kept jumping.”

He became affectionately known as my sixth child, the day I took a playground headcount of my children and accidentally counted him.
He was always part of our lives. He had seen our family’s best and our absolute worst. Even when he was busy, he would suddenly come around, just to remind us he was still there.
In recent years, he would send me IMs and emails, just to chat. If I needed help with my website or computer, he was at my house within 24 hours. I think we spent more time hanging out, playing music, and having witty conversation, than actually getting anything done, but that was the way things went and he was always fun to have over.

In November, Alex sent me an IM asking if my daughter would like a lucet for her birthday. I answered by telling him I was about to have a nervous breakdown trying to get everything ready for her surprise party.
“I’m eating, right now. I’ll leave in 10 minutes, then I’ll be over in an hour.”
What looked like a daunting task became easier and fun. There was still plenty of music and witty conversation. He was the “keeper of the flame” as he tended the fire pit for the party.  After the party was over, he lingered on, playing games with the kids and my husband. As always, we told him to let us know he got home okay.

This is about where the story has to end. That night, I realized Alex wasn’t just my son’s childhood friend or the “sixth child” of our family. He was my friend. A friend , who would drop everything and help me, whenever I asked. Yet, never bothered to ask anything in return. Our last conversation (via IM)  was about books.  I wanted classic book ideas. He couldn’t think of any fantasy I didn’t know (his favourite) that was before 1960. We also talked about how weird it was to meet anyone that couldn’t talk about music.

Last week, Alex was killed in a motorcycle accident. He did everything right, but was hit by a negligent driver. It’s difficult to not think of his motorcycle sitting in our driveway or him not rolling his eyes about my musical tastes and plugging his phone into my speakers to play classic rock or some obscure band I just “had to hear”.

The lesson here is about fun. Alex made every day fun. He didn’t care if people thought he was weird. He revelled in the thought. He did what he wanted and as long as it hurt no one else, he went with it.

We give ourselves so many obstructions to appear “normal”. But, one of the happiest, most unconditionally loving people I ever met, didn’t care what others thought. He went past those barriers and lived every day to the fullest.
I’ll miss you,  Alex. My dear friend and brother.

Facebook Postings for My Blog Readers

cropped-artemis-0001-edit4.jpgLately, I have been terribly lazy about posts. I will have a realization and end up writing it out to a friend or on the Being Artemis Facebook page. This is what happened this morning.

For my subscribers, I apologize for being so neglectful. In the coming year, I am working on adding a little more order to life, so I can get this blog back on track.

Meanwhile, let’s start off with

I used to be amazingly honest. Some times too much. My dad was the one who told me not to tell my whole life story within the first five minutes. After all, you do need something to tell your acquaintance the next day. .. (Click to Continue)

Down the Rabbit Hole

First thought: Why does a perfect Being make such imperfect creations? Before I hear from the theists, atheists, semi-theists, and what not, I am going to say I really don’t expect a concrete answer.  It’s those imperfections that make everything … Continue reading