Memories: 29 September 2025

29 September 2025

7:56 am Another day in Paradise 🙂

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Update: 1:59 pm I lost the tiny piece of opal in the fucking grass -arrgggh it was so pretty and had great colour.

The joys of silversmithing…losing gems you are working on.

Ps it’s hot out here. I am hypoxic from the dust mask. Time to quit, I think.

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https://youtu.be/i3_GUqKBObQ?si=0_So2hHM8zbs5QfA

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Giving these tin earrings a bit of shape. Curves.

29 September 2024

6:59 am Awake since 5:38 am. Unusual. I didn’t go dancing this weekend as I was too exhausted from making my YouTube videos. But here I lie! With restless leg syndrome “dancing” anyway. I have a dull ache in the back of my left calf as though I was perched on those torture devices I call high heeled shoes. Kicking my legs around.

You know what this means? I need to get up and do something with my morning. The old body throws epic tantrums when I miss out on going dancing.

Last time I missed out, there was some rather astonishing depressive spiralling as well. Who is in charge of this body?

My mind is clear. I can hear a very high vibration. But I still feel kind of wooly and exhausted too. It’s another rainy day. Sunday. The day stretches before me like an anticipatory drawn out smoke on the drag of a stale Cuban cigar.

Gawd. Mama T needs to get laid soon. 9 years of celibacy; sanguine and necessary to grow my heart back; is starting to feel like a curse! I hate when I wake up too early so the promise of another long day of isolation feels like a threat or a curse. Not good.

What Magick shall I weave out of this blindening bathos instead? Perhaps I will make a ring? Or do some more spinning? Or read some more folktales for my intrepid YouTube audience? Anything to distract myself from this cold alienation from my newly blossoming lifeforce. Chuckles. It’s all good. All part of the metamorphosis.

I feel like a rare orchid, blooming on a desolate craggy mountain, hidden by mist: unseen, unvalued, untouched by human hands..but intrepidly wildly free also. Blooming bravely and beautifully. Just in case…:-)

Time to get up, shower and build my beautiful life. One moment at a time. The building blocks of my life happening breath by breath, in astonishing whirling dervish delights.

I will not be a flower that is plucked and shucked but an ancient sacred grove that is meandered through, worshipped and adored. Where my true loves will be soul nourished and enlightened by our mutual magick. Living our best lives together in a sacred trust.

Creative life force and deep connections of bliss. We’ve got this! The Tanya, the psychedelic dreamer is manifesting again. Oh oh…be ready.

29 September 2023

Another beautiful morning, after yesterday’s garden/meridian soothing storm. Lyn is on her way to visit me. Lovely!

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Yesterday I was sitting in the back of the garden. Near the back wall, on the chairs with the glass table. Charley was close by. Singing in the tree. It was a hot humid day (later cooled down by the after lunch storm). I was sitting, musing, reading on my iPhone as I usually do.

Suddenly a tiny native bee hovered right in front of my face. She or he held their tiny winged body in perfect alignment with the tip of my nose. About three inches away.

I just looked down the tip of my nose with astonishment. She hovered there for a minute or two. I sat, resolute and calm.

She was so tiny and not aggressive and I took it as an augury of luck and happiness. What is more enchanting than being serenaded by a tiny bee? So we harmonised our energy centres and smiled at each other.

Just as suddenly as she appeared, she flew away. Awww it was delightful. Even Charley looked suitably impressed. A gift from the gods. A sign. A happiness. Love and Light from my Sacred Space garden. Harmonic resonance.

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Happy Sukkot! Chag Sameach! Much love to and from the multiverse. :-)

29 September 2022

After complaining last night about how tired I was, I went to bed and lay there for hours threshing with insomnia. Nuts. Especially as I had felt drained and fatigued all day!

So now I know I need some Neroli oil to burn in an oil burner before attempting sleep. Worth a try! My right arm is covered in scratches and welts as it’s been very itchy for the past few days so I suspect my liver is not functioning well.

That or I got bitten by tiny midges. But my skin feels like tiny creatures have been stabbing me for the past few days. It both burns, stings then itches.

This getting older lark is no walk in the park. Horrible existence. I also have a sore sciatica in my left hip but I hurt that dancing like a tempestuous teenager last Friday so that one is my own stupid fault!

It’s improving so guess where I will be tomorrow night? Probably blowing out my other hip!

29 September 2021

I had a lovely chat with Annie in Wales this morning. On video! It was good to see her beautiful face and catch up.

Then I went back to sleep for a few more hours. I think I overdid the creativity in the past few days. Scratching away at ebony beads then trying to learn spindle spinning last night.

My right side aches. Transferred liver pain. I have been a bit in the Wars as I hurt my hand the other day with a 2lb mallet, then ground off a bit of the top layer of my thumbnail yesterday, sanding back the ebony beads with my fake Dremel.

Now my liver is not happy, probably because I ate a fair bit of chocolate and these delightful tiny yummy Italian wafer type biscuits. Oh oh! No gall bladder means I can’t process too much fat or sugar. Buggar!

I had some healthy dinners in the past few days however. The delicious chicken fillets with rice and Lebanese cucumber and carrots (gifted by a Margot) and the other night the mince and red pepper and tomato paste concoction.

I drank a fair bit of coffee on Tuesday so perhaps that upset my liver too. Although my doctor had suggested it is good for the liver.

Anyway, with all my low riding grumbling subterranean health issues that arise and punch me in the face with monotonous regularity, I am quite contented at the moment.

Life is good, even with sore, injured, arthritic hands, fatigue and liver issues. I am enjoying each moment as it comes. This too shall pass or transmogrify.

Annie said she saw a white butterfly, fly over my head and disappear behind my pillow. So that is a positive sign of transformation.

Time to get up and greet the day (11:29 am). I had a good sleep.

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https://www.facebook.com/1340840204/posts/pfbid09g2nuGUK7h3mVsEuJy2y4areMcpvNqXt5fzEQxLAvafZPtAYH1i4hofYFRVeJY66l/?mibextid=v7YzmG

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This!!! …and it was a long hard grinding lesson which ultimately took my half-sister Angela declaring me Dead when she had acted dishonourably and with great cowardice to me for decades so in fact She was the true Zombie that I had clutched under my left arm and breathed life into…one too many times.

Where was the love and respect for me as a fellow survivor of the very same perpetrator? Completely fucking ABSENT.

I have a long tragic history of blowing life into soulless, sadistic people. Like my former lovers and yet another timely but painful reminder with my friend/neighbour down the street.

Instead of blowing life into these perverted evil people I should have just blown them up instead. When I finally blow my stack (now usually after my fair and reasonable 3-strike rule) these narcopaths act surprised that I might have finally drawn the line in the sand.

So fuck them.

I needed this advice as a young woman when I first got married and instead of walking away to the other side of the world (or galaxy if I had to!) I cleaved to that Mother, sister,husband like a masochistic Gimp, as my victim blaming culture insisted that I was wrong if I chose freedom and dignity and selfhood.

It was not until my Reform rabbi gave a sermon about it being perfectly okay to detach from toxic family members who were constantly destructive (a mercy proffered pointedly in my direction!) and he explained how the biblical tenet “to honour thy mother and father so your days on earth may be long” did not actually apply to evil perverted child abusing parents.

That it was up to the parents to model such safe parenting, as to be worthy of their adult child’s “Honour”.

My parents lacked any honour towards me, right up to their deaths. There was never an apology and never any grace. I had to fight that long evil will dispute for what?….only by and large more trauma…and even more destructive love affairs and a seeping wound of grief.

The only honourable thing my father ever did for me was pay for his own funeral (under pressure from that other evil perverted bastard who was striving to redeem himself in my eyes).

Davidson, who told me he had told my father that as I live in dire poverty it would be a matter of merit to at least cover his own funeral costs. He also made my father buy a mobile phone so that useless feckless and ultimately homeless rolling stone could be contactable.

But I wanted no contact with him ever again, after he admitted he knew what Trevor was doing to both me and my much older sister before I was even born.

I did the right thing by cutting ties to those atrocities posing as family and as humans.

But I was severely judged by members of my former community for it. They deemed me the evil one for daring to strive for autonomy and safety for myself and my children and for daring to finally, finally speak the truth about my history of child sexual abuse, domestic violence, spiritual abuse, financial abuse and mental/emotional abuse.

So yes…as I said..fuck them. The chutzpah of making me deal with his ashes was another injury.

But they are dead. Infernal and eternal. They can only haunt me via mediums or by the occasional poltergeist activity and each time they emerge from beyond the veil they are told succinctly, to fuck off!

I had to fight for every tiny morsel, and every scrap of love, and every nanosecond of time and interspatial healing. I had to fight for the psychedelic dreamer’s dream of an authentic true loyal lover and recently found out who my “protector” is who actually sabotaged me in every potential relationship since his death in 2016.

David the Beloved One. Truly a Dybbuk. Most malevolent and filthy. DARES to try to circumscribe my Neshamah five years after his death as my powerful and pertinent Rage has him stuck between this world and the next. Not my monkey, not my circus.

He is trapped by his own vortices of evil and all I ever did was call him out on it.

The rest is up to the Holy One.

I did put out a heartfelt prayer that those who damaged me could not be permitted to move into the light until they fixed all the harms they did to me.

So him offering himself as my cosmic bodyguard is a joke and a yoke I could do well without.

Dybbukim wanting to live like parasites from both my light and my woman’s fight to self-determination in my own body, as he did when he was alive 21 years ago …are not welcome here.

He seeks peaceful communication with me (or so he told my medium friend!) Well…to be peaceful there needs a rectification, a recalibration, a restitution , a Tikkun Olam and a genuine heartfelt soul cognisant Apology and a deep healing.

Ie very likely impossible and improbable as I will never sell my soul out to any human man or human spirit or Dybbuk ever again. A constant battle of my will over the cumulative sources of evil that plagued me.. even unto this current evil Covid paradigm.

So in that I have gained back insight and whistled my fragmented soul back into my middle aged body and in that…with the grace of the gods, the holy ones, the manifestations of Agape Love, Holiest of lights and deepest cognition of my Will to Good, to BECOME She who was always destined to be whom she was is always will be- at one ment with Great Spirit, Lord and Lady and our beautiful magical nurturing planet.

One little Dybbuk holds no sway although it did rattle me for a week.

Why? The power of my intentions and my prayers, and the power of my Love that was thwarted, debased, stymied, gaslighted and destabilised by psychic vermin and their human counterparts.

C’est la Vie Bitches. Hineini. Holding my ground in a world gone into apocalyptic disarray as we all know that from the catalysing of the breakdown of any substance, new life (perhaps a butterfly!) always emerges.

Even if I am no longer alive to witness the next evolution of our consciousness and our species.

I am staying free, I am staying in love with my planet and the gods and I am holding precious, those who have always held me precious…as when the shit finally hits the fan as it has begun to, I want to know I have people/spirits on my team who are life-affirming, loyal, and safe.

And in that gnosis: we are the ones we have been waiting for, to save our own souls/bodies/minds/ spirits. We, the Unmothered, Unpartnered, Un-Seen, Unprotected will need to hold each other as true kin across all paradigms and across this planet as our only true nurturing Mother.

Jeff Brown 29 Sep 2021:

“The fact is that some of us cannot preserve our dignity and well-being if we remain connected to one or both of our parents. We just can't. This applies to siblings as well. This is not to say that we don’t do our best to heal and preserve those relationships, but sometimes it's simply not possible and it's not healthy to continue. Unfortunately, many who have made the brave, necessary decision to disconnect are met with a shaming, shunning response from others. It is one of the most destructive and imprisoning guilt trips of all time “But she’s your mother”, “But he’s your brother”, “They did their best”, “You owe them your life” etc. This has to stop. You can be sure that if someone is considering disconnecting from members of their family of origin, there must be very legitimate reasons for doing so. Even if they did their best, that doesn’t mean we have to stay in contact with them. Some wounds cut too deep. Some bridges have been permanently burnt. Some people do not change. Let’s get this straight- you are not a bad person if you choose to say good bye to abusive family members. You have every right to preserve your emotional integrity. Our responsibility to those who abuse us cannot be greater than our responsibility to ourselves.”

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Watching “Back To Nature” on ABC iview. As recommended by my wonderful psychiatrist.

It’s a beautiful soulful tv show, blending aboriginal Spirituality with the spectacular views of Nature all over Australia. I love it!

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Oh my. Halloween is Coming. I have now two more little toys to make. A witch and a scarecrow.. for my little friends across the street! I have one month to get them done! (I already started another witch today!)

29 September 2019

L’Shanah Tovah Tikateivu U’Metucha!

May this new year bless us with Love, Shalom, Joy, Abundance, good loyal true friends/family/partnerships, better health and a global Evolution in consciousness that eliminates all those toxic wastrels from leadership and raises up those who will heal our planet, our human societies for the sake of all Lifeforms, our interconnectness with All That Is in all dimensions/paradigms etc. Please Creator. Keep us Safe and Sacred. Unsullied by abusers and their sycophants.

Amen v’ selah.

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There is an old saying that the only way out is through! I am going to attempt writing my book again. It will serve as a living memory for other survivors of child abuse to see they are not alone in their experiences.

After that is done, (or perhaps concurrently as my timing is often out!) I might write and illustrate children’s books. I want to leave behind something bright and beautiful and inspiring. I have yet to decide what stories to tell the next generation.

But first I must wade through all the ugliness. Psy sighs.

Michel Citrin: go for it, Tanya

Me: Well I have been suffering like a tortured animal just flicking through the will dispute papers.

So my book needs writing but it will be excruciating. I will ask my spirits to give me the strength and discipline to write it.

I lost courage and confidence 2 years ago after I showed some of my stuff to a publisher who said it was an important story but my writing was shit.

So you know, I will turn my writing Shit to Spiritual Gold. If it is unpublishable I will keep it for myself. All good.

I just need to write it all out and exorcise decades of agony and maybe...maybe...HaShem will set me free. Maybe!

29 September 2018

Barely survived. I thrive only on the dance floor. Surrounded by wild revellers. Fellow travellers thrashing out their pain and joy. Beautiful. Grateful for my tribe.

If only I could have found a way to make money. Owning my own nightclub was a good idea but it costs a lot of money to set up.

Well... there is the lotto god but that one is rarely worshiped. Not really a person who likes throwing money into the sewer. Food, shelter and bills take everything I have.

I am grateful for the Abundant Benevolent Universe that has blessed me with just enough over the past 23 years.

Last night a homeless man asked for $5 to go to Hungry Jacks and the people I sat with wanted him to eat their leftover bitten on pizza. I was disgusted.

So I said, “Would you eat the scraps from someone’s table like an animal?” (I had no cash in my purse or I would have gifted him!) But I shamed the people so one lady bought him a slice of pizza (even though he really wanted Hungry Jacks). I must remember to keep a spare $5-10 so that humiliation never happens again on my watch.

The woman who bought the pizza slice for him had commented earlier that my friend had bought her drinks and she was quite drunk. Too drunk to drive so she and her woman friend were staying in a hotel. She could easily afford to pay the generosity forward.

Note to self: a person shows their calibre when confronted with authentic poverty and marginalisation.

The homeless guy got a slice of pizza but only because I advocated for him and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth that he did not get his desired Hungry Jacks. (Which for $5 buys a burger, small fries and a small drink I believe.)

Oh and lol, some young drunk Irishman came to sit just behind me out of my line of vision (after we had both ordered our kebab). He says to my left shoulder “Did I take you home a while ago, So?”

Without batting an eye or turning to look at him I said “To be sure, you did not, lad”.

“Ohh thank god” quoth he and he scarpered off into the early morning.

I had to chuckle at his heyoka/style backarsed bald-faced psychology! (I did recognise him from Irish Murphy’s days but I did not have sex with that young man!). Lmao!

see file photo: My former Rabbi’s wife, Geraldine used to breed these dogs. They are a Hungarian breed.

She is the reason I got my dreads in 2003 as she was such a bitch to me about my hair. (I could not afford a decent hairdresser).

So Mama T fulfilled a long awaited dream and got revenge on several Fronts as well 😉

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Crystal has taken my car to drive to a gig. There’s a storm brewing and it’s the night of Riverfire. Awesome!

I am still recovering from last night’s revelry. Which was also quite awesome. Maybe I will do it again? Maybe...

29 September 2017

Home safe at 5.30 pm. Highway was a slow car park most of the way home.

We came home early as I lost my glasses in the surf and was terrified to drive home in the dark with blurry vision. So it was very scary but I had no choice.

Byron was beautiful as always. Wish I could live there. No pics this time as we left our bags in the car.

Fortunately I had a cheap pair of prescription glasses as a spare in my bedside table so I can function fully again.

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I can't bloody sleep. Been lying here for 3 1/2 hours. I have 4 hours of driving tomorrow. This is just so annoying as I am so looking forward to the daytrip to Byron.

29 September 2016

2.52 am finally in bed. Hopefully I sleep well tonight. Really itchy. Sunburn driving me mad. Ugh! But really exhausted so here goes.

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Shana Tovah. May 5777 bring us, and all the world, true loves, good health, happiness and enough prosperity that we can enjoy life without compromising our integrity or that of the even less fortunate than ourselves.

Erev Rosh Hashanah on Sunday night (sundown). Please pray for me. G-D in his/her infinite wisdom and sick twisted sense of humour is still lovingly guiding me to my own demise/destiny. In weird and wonderful ways.

I am shule less, broke, alone but happy in my madness. Life is mystery and the Tanya is perfect in her imperfections. Also greatly loved. By cats and a dog and chickens. (Goldfish are ambivalent).

29 September 2015

I had a lovely day today. The hefty depressing oppressive zombie mood finally lifted. I felt almost normal. I visited Julie tonight. We had fun, chatting, taking photos of the moon and of Shiloh.

She gave me some beautiful brooches, a German cowbell chime, and sold me a Dremel. Woot! I have been wanting one for weeks. So great that she was selling hers!

29 September 2013

I had a nice quiet day/night. Didn't go out tonight so avoided Riverfire crowds. Broke and a bit frustrated and sad. Had epic cuddles from Harvey the passionate Fox Terrorist lol.

29 September 2012

Busy busy busy. Fertilized garden, got pond going with new fixture. A duck that spits water that has laid around for several years. Looks great!

Attached the Naga Kanyes, the guardians of the Temple and Underworld to my bed posts. Looks awesome!

Last night I danced all night at Irish Murphies and the Casino. I only came home at 4 am. Exhausted but happy with sore feet! Lol.

29 September 2011

Battling extreme fatigue, but looking forward to lunching with Lyn and Annette Drummond tomorrow! (I hope I wake up in time lol).

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons