Charles Leblanc continues to shake, rattle and roll all over this province!

I call him "CrazyMan Blogger" because he's outrageous.  He calls me "The Irving Blogger" because its ironic. And, well, for a short stint, I published a blog on their media website thinking this was a good thing.  And, he's never let me forget it.  Like I had paid off the devil or something.  

When God made Charles, he threw away the mold.  Thank God he is in my life, this man who is who he is........ one of the most intelligent, politically astute, emotionally driven crazyman I have ever met.   He's the Jerry Lee Lewis of blogging!  Shake Rattle and Roll!

Most days, he checks on me through a chat pop up on facebook .......... Sometimes we swap quick opinions, juicy news, clips of stories, maybe even an email or two.  And every now and then, we have a chance to catch up live and in person.  But by then, so many stories, personal experiences, events have flowed under that darn Westmorland Street bridge that its almost impossible to get to a point in the conversation when there's nothing left to catch up on.  Our discussions have no ending......... it just continues where we left off after we've hugged and said our goodbyes. 

Charles Leblanc is a constant in my life.  A good friend. Someone who cares and someone I care about deeply.  It's a mutual respect thing........ but goes deeper than that.  I think we get one another.  Two misfits who see the world through similar eyes............ well, at least the political swirly world.   And the  man cracks me up!!!!   Sure we are very different.  Our upbringing couldn't be more opposite.  Even now from a surface perspective, our lives appear to be very different.  But, we have much in common that allows us to connect cognitvely, emotionally and spiritually at a comfort level that I don't share with many others.   We have shared the vulnerable stories that make up our spirits, as well as the piss and vinegar side of our selves.  How many people can you say that about in your life??

The majority of what we discuss never ever makes it to either one of our blogs. Blogger secrets!!!  I know he's shared stuff with me that will allow me to go to my grave laughing.  I have done the same!  I love it when I can share something with Charles he hasn't heard yet.  That is a feat in itself because the man is EVERYWHERE and knows the dirt on most people in this whole freaking province!

My God, the man is wired into the pulse of this place and it scares many! However, people knock on his apartment window night and day to find out the dirt, and to share some dirt.  Dirt swapping.  It's good journalism, because MOST of the dirt is news.  Sadly, this province's media is predominantly tied up with one family.  The Irvings.  Charles, "Crazyman Blogger" has a love/hate relationship with them that is healthy, wealthy (for them) and wise (for both).   He has the same relationships with paid journalists too.  They know where to go to seek out some facts.  Fiction too.  'Cause sometimes he has facts that go beyond the realm of what really happened.  This isn't a surprise given that so many people are in touch with him.   But, I got to say, the  majority of information Charles acquires is the honest to God truth.  

Some of it is heartbreaking.  Some of it is butt slapping hilarious.  A lot of it is eye popping.  Can I just say it's a breath of FRESH air to talk to someone who is the salt of the earth and who sees it in the others around him and writes about it?  He also sees the pontificating phonies too and they know it.  That's a threat eh?

So, why am I writing about my friend tonight?  Well, he's had a momentous week.  He spent 70 hours behind bars (without his medication btw!) for going TOO far with his megaphone antics in front of the Fredericton police station.  Drove everyone batty!  Created havoc in the boardrooms within listening distance.  Irritated the throngs of folks who work in the area barking out his mantra about being treated differently than others.  All over a ticket for riding his bike on the sidewalk.  They arrested him for disturbing the peace.   Hello?  He's been disturbing, shaking, challenging and rattling the peace all his life.  And good on him!  More people should be like Charles.  But then, he wouldn't be as unique, as effective if others were like him.  

Charles is one smart fella!  Never one to keep his opinions, nor his feelings on a matter to himself, he lives above the radar.  Can you imagine always living above the radar?  But, that's where he has chosen to remain.  What an advocate he is too!  Think about how many stories have been revealed by this man, many of which would never have made the light of day. 

 For the past couple of days, this "place of honour" has foisted him into the "first news item" time slot in the media.  Good God, he even usurped the Harvest Jazz and Blues headlines by becoming the top headline in the local Irving paper.   People are talking either about the headliners at Harvest OR about Monsieur Leblanc.  It's a hilarious combination.......... I heard both discussed at the Market today, and on the radio this week.   Ironic given that he normally skips town when the Harvest takes over his downtown.  You gotta laugh at that one Charles! 

As much as he was probably striving for this attention, it is still stressful. and I don't think he ever thought he'd end up in JAIL!    But, believe me there are more folks out there who admire and appreciate Charles' work as a journalist blogger than the folks who find his antics beyond the realm of acceptable. But,  he has a point too.  

His choice of driving everyone batty on the police station end of Queen Street in this anal retentive conservative city of stately elms may not be "acceptable" to the folks who have to sit in boardrooms in strategic planning sessions.  Loud speaker phones are comparable to screeching brakes on a transport going downhill.  But, because he has chosen to live above the radar actively documenting the political, personal, and community based events in this part of the world, Charles is now treated differently than others.  He's a marked man.  He's pissed people off.  He's created a power struggle and by doing so has exposed the hierarchical hypocrisy of our system.   

Who else gets a ticket for riding a bike on a sidewalk for God's sakes??  Unjust.  Simple. 

No, I am not seeing him through rose tinted glasses.  I see his real-ness because he has shown that to me.  I am well aware of his previous shit disturbing, most recently his over the top ADHD/OCD sandwich board messages during the last election.  He made the local MLA sitting member's life miserable!  And he lost too!   I probably would have been irritated if I had to work in the area while this madman was barking out his mantra over a speaker phone.  (who the hell gave him that piece of equipment anyways???)  However, I believe it could've been handled very differently than it was.   Like everyone on this planet...... Like Charles does himself for others......... he wanted to be listened to.  Why wasn't someone listening to him instead of simply dismissing his message as noise?   He HAS been treated differently than others. 

I call him "CrazyMan Blogger" because he's outrageous.  He calls me "The Irving Blogger" because its ironic.  More importantly, we call each other friends.   Will someone please listen to this human being?  Drop the charges and lets all move on before it becomes even more ridiculous than it already is! 

ps.......Charles?  Thank God for you.  Yes, you are a marked person and you've known it for a long time.  You've chosen a life of shaking, rattling and rolling.  But, that doesn't mean that anyone can treat you any differently than someone else.  You always have my support and I hope you will always know that.   The gift you gave me when I needed it the most?  I will never forget it.  Neither will dozens of others who have experienced the hurting side of life and found you by their side walking a  mile or two with them as they struggled to find their footing again.  You sir, will find your footing again.  Keep on walkin'!  Keep on talkin'!

snapshot

The wind is picking up outside while the rain continues to pelt the earth with an incessant fury. The river belches in fullness and flows with determination down towards the Bay of Fundy.  High tides ream the coastal shorelines, already saturated with this deluge.  Where is it all coming from?  In other parts of this country, it arrived as snow.  I can't imagine how much snow this would be if the temperatures were lower.  Up to the "window sills high" I'm sure.  Instead , my town is getting a thorough rain cleansing.  I will do the same.  By writing ..... a cleansing of a few thoughts which have been logjammed while I pushed through my restlessness.  

Tonight, I'm safe, warm and dry in my home.  Inspirational upbeat music is playing in the background, encouraging me to write, but also to sway to the beat.  There are a few tasks on the "to do" list that are vying for my attention, but dammit, I'm going to blog tonight!  Not only that, I'm going to FINISH a piece and post it!  It seems as though I begin a new piece and run out of steam halfway through it....... or maybe my attention gets redirected .... or the restlessness I have been feeling kicks in.  All of those things, plus I've been busy.  Man, have I been busy.  But, you know........ it still seems like it takes me 5 extra steps per usual step to accomplish anything.   Focus still wanes.  Certain tasks don't seem to get completed on time.  I'm trying.

Maybe i'm just always trying to catch up to the learning. That's how it really feels.  My learning curve which has been created by so many amazing experiences this fall is as steep as Everest!  As I have journied forward, tackling hard heart things as well as welcoming tenderness back into my broken heart, I am learning to step out into the world of discomfort to feel the yawning stretch of opening the door to surprises!  

Wide-eyed ones.  Whispering ones.  Courageous ones.  Scary ones.  Expressive ones.  Risky ones.  Shaky ones.  Deep pit in the stomach ones.  High flying catapulting ones.  Prayer-full ones.  Surprises parcelled in promises of learning.   

In order to continue the flow of this piece however, I refuse to get all jammed up trying to write about everything that has happened.  As much as I would like to do just that........ I would need a week or so to give the stories the attention they deserve.  My restless soul won't allow it right now.   Instead, I decided to provide a snapshot of where I've been and where I am.  That way, I am hoping I can begin to unravel what is in my heart and head.......... AND get back on track with my writing and blogging.   It is too important and meaningful to me to let it slide any longer.   Writing isn't a choice anymore.  It is a life force.  Like breathing.  Like any creative outlet.  Part of me feels like I've been holding my breath!   

So, without further hesitation....... a snapshot complete with headings........ 

What have I noticed recently?   The other night, I was walking my dog down the street.  The winter stars were glistening jewels in the black sky.  The moon was a sliver of itself.  From this vantage point, I could see the lights on the other side of the Saint John River.  Some of them were stretched in blurry reflection on the water, bobbing with the currents.  Golden yellow, candescent white, a flashing red from the tower which welcomes the planes into this city.  I expected to see flickering Christmas colours beyond the river, decorating the homes I couldn't make out in the dark.  What I noticed?  The only predominant colour of light that night was blue.  It was like it outshone all other colours.... left them in its wake. The blue light shone in random fashion like they were fancy stars hovering low to protect the people who lived over there.  Or maybe they were remnants of summer fireflies.  I stood and watched them glow on and on.......... my hands in my pockets to keep warm......... my big blue scarf wrapped up around my neck and ears in silence.   I wasn't restless.  

Currently reading...... I wish I could state that its a big juicy novel that I have escaped into!   Not yet.  Soon I hope.  Maybe over the Christmas holidays.  However, what I am reading are stories and explanations of the Season.  Advent stirs in and around me.  I have a thirst for it.  No matter how busy I am, my thoughts don't stray too far from it's guidance and lessons.   All year long, I have said to myself that I wanted to simplify........ to let go of the layers of complications ....... to pry my fingers off life's steering wheel ... to learn to be more accepting and less controlling of how events unfold ..... to surrender rather than ADD more to the buffet!  I kept adding more..... more and more...... making life more complicated than I could handle, until it forced me to dive undercover to hide.  I was doing the opposite of what I wanted!  How masochistic is that?  So......... here we are, in the  middle of Advent, and I see how I actually have been simplifying.... not in the traditional manner, but by reflecting on what is most important and what is gravy.   I may be busy juggling home, community, work, and play, but inside the layers of complications are letting go as I prepare for Christmas Day with my family and friends in Joyful Hope.

Currently creating...... I can't tell you that!  It would spoil the surprise!  I've got a few little gifty projects on the go right now.  I love this time of year!

Favourite things.... Kissing ranks high on the list lately.  I forgot how wonderful it was.  Yeah, I'd walk a mile in a snowstorm for a lingering romantic kiss.  hmmmmm......... what else? Gee, all of a sudden my brain is fogging up with passionate steam!  hahaha!

What I am thankful for:   Absolutely no question.  I am so grateful to be a Mom to two of the most beautiful human beings around.  Yeah, I'm a little biased, but honestly?  Last night, the three of us sat down for Sunday dinner and my whole being filled up with love and gratitude when I looked into their eyes.   We are doing alright, the three of us.  In fact, we are doing just fine despite our personal stressy days and busy ways.  Both are excelling at school and in their personal pursuits.  I am so proud of my daughter and my son.  They give me strength everyday, and i hope I do the same for them.  

What am I listening to?  Life, traffic and music all around me ...  students in need of spilling their stories, the voices of my friends and family, my inner voice, choral hymns, lessons in nature, sermons that touch my heart and soul, the spoken words of a friend whom I have spent meaningful time with this fall as she successfully SOARED towards making her personal vision come to life.  Her fierce determination to bring 1000 people together to promote much needed treatment services for Youth in this province with mental health issues culminated in an amazing rally last week!  It was a grassroots community movement that only happened because of my friend Maureen's shared testimony and connection to groups and individuals throughout the city.  AMAZING!  I was honoured to be a part of it from the initial planning stages in mid-October.  Here's a link to the latest story about the event.   I will write more about this when I have time to reflect properly over the holidays.

Plans for the upcoming week...... SO MUCH GOOD STUFF!  And of course, the other stuff I don't even know is going to happen!  Gifts.  Blessings.  New learning.  Illumination.  Worries resolved.  New worries rooted.  Projects continued.  Music to stir.  Feelings that run deep.  Meaningful connections.  Love.... giving and receiving.  Beauty in all of life's imperfections.

How about a picture?  This one is my favourite of the week.  Youth learning about the importance of community gathering to support a cause.  These kids were very involved at the Connect the DOTS rally in front of the legislature.  My Max is in the middle!  It was awesome!  

So, here is my snapshot.  A little rambling, but I just kept writing and let my fingers feel the keys again.  No edits.  One draft.  C'est tout!  I feel blog unclogged a bit!  Hopefully I can reach inside to find that creative writing side of me again.  I've missed it sorely!  Here's hoping it will return as my restlessness disappears.  Joyful hoping!

beach glass

So, here I am, sitting at my dining room table in front of my computer.  I have a group of candles burning beside me as the only source of light.  Flickering light. Flickering thoughts as I reflect on blogging. I can't believe I have been writing here in my own little corner of the blog world for 5 whole years.  Who knew I was so yappy? 60 months, 1825 days, and 1458 posts!

5 years later?  Older. Wiser? hmmmm.......... That's debatable.  Have I learned anything? Yes.  Have I changed?  Oh yes, big shifts.  Have I matured?  No.  Have I acquired a few more pock marks, bruises and beauty marks?  Oh my God have I!  Do I still see the world through the lens of the absurd?  You bet.  Has my world expanded?  To infinity and beyond....... collecting blessings and life long friendships as I have ventured. Beautiful blessings that reach out to all corners of this global village we live, work and play in. 

Awareness.  It's a far reaching theme umbrella to write under.  It suits me perfectly because it has allowed me to practise my writing, to experiment with wordplay, to reflect on new learning, obervations, to share stories, to make up rhymes, to broaden and to dissect. Most importantly, it has provided me a forum for personal growth, spiritually, emotionally, cognitively while hopefully offering up my own learning to add to your own learning through stories, poetry, opinion, essays, photography.

I'm struck with the range of topics I've attempted to tackle.  To me, each post seems like a piece of beach glass that I either stumbled upon, or had carefully chosen to display.  Some have been rounded and softened by the rolling waves, some still have pointy angles to them.  Those ones hurt a bit when you close your hand around them.  Shards of glass, all uniquely shaped.  Some clear like the sheets of a window, while others opague with a layer of white chalk on them.  The ones which are the most pleasing to my eye come in light catching greens and rare cobalt blue or porcelain white.

Beach glass doesn't come from nowhere..... they all have an unknown history much larger and grander than the remnant left on the shoreline.  What you see when you pick it up to explore its texture, shape and colour is merely the tip of its story.  Just like the writing I do on this blog.  So much of  what I write is the mere tip of my life's observations.  But just like the beach glass, it is what ends up on the shore of my thinking.......it's what gleams in my thoughts that I end up capturing.   

I look at what I've written and see it as individual pieces.  Then, I stand back to look at the body of work as a whole and I see the mosaic patchwork created.  Under the theme of Awareness, this elemental montage forms a rough worn window on my soul.  If my soul is a cabin in the woods down by the water, this is one of the windows where the light gets in.  Peak through the collage of beach glass and you will see a part of who I am. Not all of me.  

This blog is a slice of my story.  It captures reflected observations, feelings and opinions.  There is so much more I either choose not to share, havent discovered or written about yet.  That's the thing about awareness.  Not only is is a broad theme..... it is an infinite one as vast as the oceans where beach glass is tumbled and molded. 

Miles to go before I sleep.

My blog is a work in progress.  My mosaic window is incomplete.  Just like me............ there is more to learn.  There is more to explore.  There is more to reflect upon.  I am a work in progress.  Just like you!  A human becoming.....

5 years and counting........... I love this place and it warms me right down to my painted toenails that you seem to enjoy it too.  :)

 

painting by Valerie Leri

a ghost just needs a home.....

 

Ana sat crumpled at the foot of the hill, a royal blue stone cupped in her hand. Exhausted in mind and body, she couldn't find the energy to walk up the path as she did everyday. She had lost the impetus to continue. She had lost her way. It simply felt too difficult to carry on with her mission. The meaning of it had slipped out of her grasp.

No matter what the weather, Ana had treked up to the top of the hill to place a stone she had carefully chosen and carried onto the pile which had accumulated over time. This was her lifework. She loved her stones and usually took pleasure in choosing the ones who spoke to her. Over the years, she came to believe stones were a home for spirits. They individually held ancestral stories. They were our collective legend. 

Her best days were when Ana discovered a diamond in the rough......a stone which resonated heat from its core when she cupped it in the palm of her hand. She called those ones "touchstones" because they seemed to carry lovewisdom in them, derived from living in the heart of eternity. Touchstones, she believed held the stories from the past......full of ancestral feelings. Through her eyes, the collection she had accumulated was a living piece of art....a choir. Recently, the stones had become silent. Her mission, she questioned.

There were days when she would fill a whole basket full of stones and carry them up the hill. Most days, however, she journeyed with a single solitary one, like the blue gem she was holding onto. All of them were uniquely imperfect and multi-coloured.....some with pink coral bits of quartz that sparkled in the sunshine, some more muted in a rich brown like the cliffs that framed the river below. One at a time, she would place them onto the evergrowing, everchanging pile, and step back to see how her work had shaped a difference. The hill was indeed growing, as was the sculpture of stone spirits. It had felt right. Her sense of purpose filled her with a productive connection to the rest of the world, that this is what she was put on this planet to do.

Today, she had lost her footing. Her shoes were worn, full of sole stabbing pebbles. Sadly, it also seemed silly all of a sudden, and this awareness tripped her own spirit with used up air. So many people had questioned her lifework over the years, had put up boulders along her path but she was always able to overcome whatever the obstacle. Her optimism and focus usually slayed the negativity and doubt. "A ghost just needs a home....." was her reply.

For some reason though, the opponent's words now haunted her thoughts and the more she listened to them replay in her head, the more she felt rejected. She looked at her worn scarred hands dried and cracked from the salty grit, remnants of her labours, her nails chipped and ugly and was overwhelmed by a sense of futility. Misunderstood and unloved, that's how she felt. Her mission rejected. Her person rejected. When did her own self entwine with her mission? When did they become one in the same? She didn't have the answer.

As she sat in a heap afternoon, Ana looked at the last touchstone she had discovered. It was a smooth blue stone with white cracks etched on its surface. Its size fit perfectly in her palm, but it was far from perfect. In fact, it held character.......with chipped edges softened by the tides. This one  she had carried with her for a long time.  For some reason, she couldn't part with it.  Instead, she had kept it tucked in her pocket for company. 

So, as she sat questioning whether or not this truly was her legend or whether it was about to change, she found herself clutching onto the blue stone rubbing it's softness., hoping the spirit it held would speak reassurances.  She ran her fingers unconciously over its fissures feeling the warmth generated from her touch. It helped her surrender her worries to the air around her. The more she repeated the movement, the more she could feel her muscles relax and her mind clear.

Time stretched on unnoticed as Ana found comfort in her meditation.....so much so that she was startled completely when she looked up and saw a man hiking down the hill close to the path she used everyday. In all of her days working on her mission, she had never seen anyone else on her hill. But, there he was. His steps seemed light and energetic, his arms swinging in purposeful motion. Continuing to stare at him like he was an apparition, Ana stood up to greet him as he reached the bottom of the hill.

"Have you been to the top of the hill?" he asked smiling.

"Oh, yes," Ana replied, "I walk up every morning," her reason kept silently in her pocket cupped in her hand. "And you? Is this your first time hiking in this area? I'm surprised I have never seen you before."

"You've seen the altar then?" he asked boldly. 

Before she could overcome her confusion and gather her thoughts he continued...."Our paths probably havent crossed because I always take my walk at this time of day after I've finished my work. I find this is when the angle of the afternoon sun gives the altar a warm welcoming glow. Somehow, the stones someone has placed together comes alive and sings to me...." The look on Ana's face must've made the man realize she didn't know what he was referring to. He continued..."you have seen the altar, right?"

"No, well yes I have," blurted Ana, "it's just that I see it as a piece of artwork and nothing more."

"Oh, it's much more than that. Maybe you've never experienced the feeling because you're usually here in the morning" he reassured her. "Someone has worked very hard to build a beautiful chantry and at this time of day, when the sun warms and reflects its light off the golden touchstones the spirits share their wisdom with me. I hope you don't think I'm crazy, but I have found a place where I can lay my worries, where I can relax. It is where I come to pray everyday. It's where I give thanks."

"The stones speak to you? You pray there and give thanks?" Ana asked a bit dumbfounded. He tentatively nodded, unsure as to how this woman was receiving the informaton he shared with her.

"They speak to me too," she admitted...." which is why I have walked up this hill everyday with a new stone in my pocket to add to my art. I wanted to give the ancestral stories they hold a home."

"You built the altar?"

Ana nodded tentatively. "I never saw it as an altar. I saw it as spirit sculpture."

"Your piece of art is a place of worship. It is beautiful! Oh! I want you to see it with new eyes and in a new light....come with me," he said with the excitement of a young boy who has just discovered an abandoned treefort.

As they walked up the hill, the sun warming their backs, Ana explained why she was there at a different time of day. She also shared with the man how lost she had felt because her sense of purpose seemed futile to her now. She told him she was going to give up on her mission....and was so worried about what she would do next. He listened without judgement and only asked a few questions as a way to help her find her words.

It was a different path than Ana had travelled on every single day so when they reached the summit, she was approaching it from a new angle. So, as soon as the stones came into her sight, Ana stopped abruptly and looked directly at the pile of stones which suddenly had transformed from an abstract piece of art to what the man had described. She saw the altar. Not only that, she heard the choir of spirits reflected from the afternoon sun.

Smiling, she approached her loving stones....the ones she had given a home to....and knelt down in front of them. The man knelt down beside her and quietly whispered...."You may have started your lifework by providing a place where the stories could find a home, but somewhere along the line, your mission changed.....you have built yourself one."

"I see that now......I see that now...."

Ana bowed her head that day and prayed the only two words needed in prayer.

"thank you."

______________

postscript........  

I wrote this piece over a year and a half ago.  I was in a very different place and it entailed sitting at the bottom of a hill wondering what the purpose was of my writing and the obsession with it. 

We begin projects (ie blogging) with clarity of purpose and so often we lose the thread which ties us to the original reason. Or perhaps the reason for the journey begins to take on a different meaning. For so long, I saw myself as a "collector of stories." The stories others shared had a home within me. They had a voice too when I became a storyteller.  I am a counsellor and a writer.  My blog is the temporary home I chose to collect my "touchstones..."  I set out to create a piece of art through my writing.  I now see that I have been building an altar.  Today for the first time, I see this.  

Amazing grace. How sweet the sound.

Somewhere along the line, as I collected and shared.....the meaning of my work, the direction of my journey began to take on a new shape as I realized the touchstones in my life have been providing me with lessons and have pointed out the direction of a new path. Though it is still a bit blurry.....my vision needs some adjusting, I am finally seeing that perhaps I need to personally find an altar I can call home. 

It wont be a traditional one.  I ain't a traditional kind of gal.  I clearly don't see myself studying to become a Minister working within the walls of a church.  I'd rather be out in the forests looking for waterfalls and talking to lost waifs.  I see myself facilitating...... up in front of others.  My vision however, always  begins at the source of my writing.  This is what will lead me.  This  blog is  where I found my voice.

I have a long way to go.....and I don't know the way or even how to go about it. But I do see it and my God, I'm blessed with the guidance of many to help me along the way. It is what I want. The spirit in me  just needs a home.  The foundation is set.  I am unstuck walking up that hill, a blue touchstone in my hand.  Let the choir sing.  

To catch a thief.....we DID!

I awoke early yesterday morning all hot and uncomfortable because I am at that magical age where menopausal heat seeps into your system like a steam locomotive and PUSHES right out of your toes at approximately 4 am. I couldn't sleep let alone get comfortable and the more I thought about it, the more irritating the flames shooting from my cute little feet became. Unpleasant? It sucks! It does a number on your head too. It ain't pretty!

So, it was in this frame of mind that I found myself cooling down in front of a blasting fan with a cup of tea in my hand checking out the recent posts of my bloggie friends. OH, shut up! I can hear you from here! What the hell is she doing drinking hot tea in the middle of a late forties FLASH? I recognize the contradiction. I'm a creature of habit. Tea and 4 am blog reading go together. Oh, who am i kidding, tea goes with everything. It was the first thing I asked for after 23 hours of hard labour and dammit, they brought me one! A cuppa in one hand and a newborn in the other. So why the hell wouldn't it go with menopause??? I'm a thirsty multi-tasker. Irish, Scottish and English flows through my system. I.am.doomed for a spot of tea.

Quickly, the heat moved right into my gut when I innocently checked a copyright site (I have since posted it on my sidebar) and found that my own formulated words from a piece I had written just this week had been nicked and used by another blogger, living and breathing (uneasily NOW) in Malaysia. I had seen many visits on my sitemeter over the past 6 months from there, but never thought much of it, because most people who visit my blog don't leave comments. They read and move on with hopefully something to think about. THEY DON'T NICK IT! Needless to say, I felt pierced and violated. I couldn't believe it!!! How could anyone consider owning much of what I've written when it comes from my own essence?

At first I thought perhaps he had stolen just this piece because only one was caught by the copyright site, but I thought I'd check his previous posts, and saw that he had lifted whole posts, as well as bits of pieces I had written as starting points for his own posts. Photos, poetry, prose, even silly Q and A posts were used by this guy. (Interestingly, I surreptitiously learned that much of what I've written does have my own unique style....my fingerprints were easy to see! I didn't know that until I went through Anton's blog! They jumped right out at me! SO, thank you Anton you eeejit.....your immoral behaviour actually enhanced my awareness! funny how that happens eh?)

Tonight, however, he's gone. Oh, he showed up again under a new name and blog site with most of my writing missing though a few still standing like he owned them. But after the pressure of my friends, he high tailed it out of blogland. Again. We'll see if he shows up in another form. Most likely, he will. The HEAT is on him now! I'm cooling my heels.

Plagarism is a more than just a surface blight. It is a complete and utter violation. Immoral and illegal, it is fraudulent action of someone whose morals are despicably missing. Consequently, I have been in touch with an old university friend who is a lawyer with a large copyright firm in Toronto and she is researching internet ownership rights and whether there is a precedence set in the land of blogging. Obviously there have been situations where published articles have been stolen from the media and visa versa, but its unknown as to whether a piece of creative writing stolen from one blogger to another has ever been brought to court. I'm very interested to find out and await her counsel.

In the meantime, I have been in touch with the Blogger folks and have asked them to help me with respect to dealing with the pieces which have been cached under ANTON's blogname. I am incensed that my work....my creative intellectual property will forever be floating out in cyberspace under his name and i can't rectify it.

What started out as a feeling of being alone turned into the most extraordinary day of feeling lifted by a wide ranging group of BEE UUU TEEEE FULLL people who came to my aide. Mike, my very first bloggie friend shared this with a group of us through an email that flew around the GLOBE!!!
_____________

Dana, et al.,

It would appear that the blogging community has dealt the blog in question it's death blow. Earlier, the link you provided did not go to that specific post, but the blog could still be accessed. There was just one post - probably stolen as well. I flagged the blog based on your email - your word is good enough for me - and I suspect I was not alone. The blog in question (now just a short time later) no longer exists. It is as it should be. I have no problem with anyone reposting my work as long as three simple conditions are met: it cannot be for commercial use; it must be properly attributed; and it cannot be altered from its original form. If anyone reproduces my work as their own, I get angry. Very angry. More than angry, I get justice - and it appears as though justice has been served.
It's good to see the blogging community working together. Most of us do this as a labour of love - for ourselves and anyone else who finds our words insightful, amusing, cathartic or whatever other value they may hold. We don't (most of us) get paid to do this, but it is work nonetheless. For someone to steal it is wrong on too many levels - that it is illegal is only the tip of the iceberg.
You are a kinder soul than I, Dana. I would not have given (and in fact did not) this so-and-so a chance to remove the plagiarized material... I simply would have hit him or her with everything I had. The crime has been committed - it goes well beyond mere intention or a "little" mistake - we are talking about entire posts!
I have not checked to see if my material (which is copyrighted and noted on my blog) has been stolen in a while. Although it is difficult to be absolutely sure, it looks like my property remains within my control. But thanks for the reminder, it is a serious issue.

Mike

______________________________________________
My reply....?

Hello everyone.....:)

Blogging most certainly is a labour of love, Mike. You are so right. It is also such a wonderful community of shared passions. So often I am inspired by something I've read, like a jumping off point for my own writing. There is a terrific give and take, and when someone violates that flow of creativity by stealing, it is wonderful to know (and feel) that the community does pull together.

I thank you all for your assistance. I have sent him another email threatening him and making it perfectly clear that I won't sit idle again and let something like that happen. I also told him he should be ashamed of himself.....asked him what the Dala i Lama would think of such sinful behaviour! :) Buddhist my ass!

I did get in touch with Blogger and file a formal complaint. Whatever he has posted in the past has been cached, so they can still follow up if they havent done already.

I wish I had copied the comments from everyone! They were priceless!! I had a few facebook friends nail the guy as well, so I am completely confident tha t he is shaking in his weasley boots today.

Thank you all! I'll post something about it all, hopefully tonight.

cheers...

I'm off to pour myself a glass of wine and toast you all xxx
_________________________________

Thank you all for you kindness and concern. I can't tell you how grateful and humble I feel. The attention you poured on not only energized my drive to tackle this situation, but left me feeling affirmed as a writer and a friend. Carmi? A very special thank you to you my dear friend. If I may, I will post a separate blog with the correspondance you initiated on my behalf. I can't tell you how much I appreciated your efforts. Remind me never to get on your shit list! haha!

I am actually very fired up and more interested in writing because of this episode. Over the past couple of weeks, I was seriously considering leaving blogging. M y ideas felt stale, and my fingers weren't finding the keyboard as enticing. In fact, I had intended to write a piece this weekend and entitle it "To Blog or not To Blog...." However, this has spurred me on, and certainly made me realize just how important, precious and inspiring this little virtual global village is to me.

A lot of reflections happened yesterday...... good strong reflections on the importance of community, the joy of belonging, the empowering sense of efforts. I may have started yesterday alone simmering in a hot flash with a cup of tea in my hand and a look of horror on my face when I first realized my work had been lifted...... but it sure wasn't long before I was joined by a beautiful force to be reckoned with!

thank you ..... thank you....

Now I have to get a group of 5 beautiful camp counsellors (three of whom are sleeping as new best friends in my basement as I write) back to camp after a two day respite. I've fed, and laundered.....and listened to many hilarious stories... I plan to orchestrate a singsong along the way..... won't they LOVE that?? Little do they know that Muskie has taken over me today.....and she's drivin!

PS. Anton? You out there??? I have yet to receive that email you told Carmi you were sending me. If YOU try to steal my work or anyone else's again, you will be caught. As for what you have already done? Sit tight buddy, I have a lawyer who wants to talk to you.

bloomin' crazy!!!

These Shasta daisies are for you.....a bouquet from my garden. xx

True kinship was felt today throughout the blogging community, including several friends who have always been supportive of my writing pursuits. I'm fired up but exhausted! I will write more tomorrow...... when I've had a chance to catch some sleep. It's been a long and busy day. This saga is not over yet. I can feel it.

Thank you so much everyone for rallying with me and supporting me wholeheartedly. You are beautiful wonderful people. I feel lucky and so blessed to be surrounded by your swift action, your kindness and your concern.

ps. Carmi received an email from Anton the thief. He had the audacity to try to explain that his actions were misunderstood. He also stated that he would apologize directly to the blogger he stole from. I have yet to hear from him.

Sometimes it truly does take a village to make things happen. :) xx

Meet the Author of THE FEY: Claudia Hall Christian

Welcome friends! I'm so excited to announce that I'm the Canadian host of Claudia Hall Christian's Book Blog tour. Through the virtual magic of "blog-energy," our writing paths crisscrossed a while back and ever since we have been regular readers of each other's hijinks, heartspills and hilarity.

Personally, I was pulled into her dynamic and interactive blog knowing I had found a person who was actively working on a dream, using both her head and her heart. I liked what I read and I loved the sassy personality that is my Colorado blogfriend. Optimistic, respectfully opinionated, and kind, Claudia puts out unconditional positive energy. I love visiting her site, Out on a Limb with Claudia (link on my sidebar)

Recently, Claudia launched the publication of her novel, The Fey, a gripping thriller chalk full of espionage, fast paced twists and turns, and a whole lot of page blazing passion. In fact, the story brims with threads of expressive feelings which weave the characters together with loyalty for one another and a deep sense of loving respect, all revolving around the main character, Sargeant Alexandra Hargreaves, also known as The Fey.

It had been a while since I picked up and read fiction, though it used to be my number one love before I began writing again, and my reading of choice morphed into mostly non fiction to feed my own muse. So, I was looking forward to getting lost in a story that would transport me into another world. Claudia's talents did not let me down. In fact, I sat down, cracked open the book and for the rest of the day I was happily lost in the lives of Alex the Fey and her band of risk taking, large living, sexy spirited team of dedicated men who worked for the American military. I was hooked from page 1. Now how often can you say that about a novel? The Fey is a terrific read, comparable to all the great spy genre books. And I've read dozens of them! Claudia has hit this one out of the park!

So it is with great pleasure that I welcome Claudia here as she tours the blogworld promoting her book and sharing a little bit about herself and the writing process..... Claudia? Welcome to Fredericton, New Brunswick. Let's just jump right into the questions shall we?

Where did the story idea for Alex the Fey originate?

Boy, that’s a good question. I’m not quite sure. In a dream like state, Rebecca Hargreaves came and sat down on the edge of my bed. She came night after night for at least a week. I couldn’t eat or sleep until I started working on the first draft of The Fey.

Once your imagination kicked into gear, where did you go from there in planning out your novel and the characters you've beautifully brought to life?

I didn’t really plan out the novel. I simply worked to understand, and speak for, these characters. I wrote a lot – back story, front story, and lots of side stories. I wrote three entirely different versions of this story until I felt like I had the story right. My attempt is to be a clear scribe for my characters.

How much research was involved in the process?

I did a lot of research. Although I’ve known quite a few people in the military, I’ve never been in the military. There was a lot to catch up on. I’m also not Catholic, so I needed to uncover minor details which help make the story feel more real. And, while my family is originally from Northern Ireland, there was a lot that I needed to research there.
Gratefully, the Internet is a vast resource of people and information. I was lucky enough to be able to find almost everything I needed to know either through someone on the Internet or on various Internet sites.
Newsweek is another fabulous research tool. I have a subscription to the magazine. I clip out interesting articles then scan them so I’ll have them always. I’ve learned a lot from different Newsweek articles.

Who is your favourite secondary character and why?
It depends on the day. lol. They are each rich and interesting characters. I like different things about them. And, as the Alex the Fey series continues, we learn more about them.

As I finished the book, I was left with a desire to know more about Alex and her relationships with her team. I also wanted to know much more about the men she's related to. I could see how so many of your characters had the potential to be the lead in a storyline. Tell me a bit about where you will take us in your next installment.
Learning to Stand is the second in the Alex the Fey thriller series. The books begins in Paris where Alex and Raz begin to clean out the Fey team storage locker. In this book, Alex must start moving on from the events in her past. Of course, there’s lots of romance, rip roaring action, and laughter along the way.
The third installment, Who I Am is the most personal book of the Alex the Fey series. In this book, we get an inside view as each character must come face to face with himself or herself. We also have lots of laughs, adventure, and romance.
Learning to Stand is undergoing final edits for publication right now and Who I Am is in first draft form. There are eight books outlined, but I will continue writing the series as long as the characters have something to say.

Now, for your own personal Unconscious muttering....words related to The Fey :) (this is a Sunday regular word association post on Claudia's blog, Out on a Limb.....check it out and join in!)

courage :: to breathe
conflict :: ed
terrorist :: revolutionary?
secrets :: kill
queen bee :: lays 1500 eggs a day in the summer
Colorado :: is near the center of the United States

Paris :: my favorite city on the planet
suffering :: passes
intrigue :: fascination
passion :: to live, laugh and love

Here are a few "Vanity Fair Proust" questions for you Claudia, ready?

a) What is your idea of perfect happiness?
I think happiness comes from knowing and accepting yourself. Perfect happiness is when I know that nothing is personal and everyone goes through what I’m going through. With my ego out of the way, I can just live my life, to the best of my abilities, in the manner in which suits me.

b) What is your most treasured possession?

The people in my life that love me.

c) Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

Just <--sneaky little weed of a word.

Simply <-- overhyped, toxic word that means almost nothing


d) What is your greatest fear?
That I will get caught up in my own dream and miss my life.

e) What is your motto?

“Why not?”

f) Honey or maple syrup?
As you know, I am a beekeeper. I will let you in on a secret. I can’t eat a lot of sweet things. In fact, I can only eat a tiny bit of honey or maple syrup. I do love our home grown honey. It’s different every year depending on the weather. I’ve heard people say that about maple syrup, but I don’t use it enough to notice.

Thank you! That was fun! Friends? If you're looking for a summer book to take to the beach, or if you live in the southern hemisphere and are itching for a story you want to sink your teeth into on a dark cold evening under the duvet, The Fey is just the right choice. If you're looking for a fresh new novel for your bookclub, why not choose a good fast paced thriller? I wholeheartedly recommend The Fey, and personally look forward to the next in the series.

Claudia? You've done well!!! Congratulations!!

To order The Fey, simply click on this link..... If you use this code: CCEESWU3, you will receive a 10% discount on your order.

Charles, are they sending you off to cover the troops? Mon Dieu!!

My friend Charles Leblanc has posted his "take" on what happened yesterday at the courthouse when he arrived for the "gathering..." Charles had been arrested on April 22nd for assault and trespassing onto the grounds of the New Brunswick Legislature while attempting to cover the protest that day for his blog. I wrote about it yesterday and received more than triple the number of hits than I usually do. Scroll down if you want to read my version. :)

Amazing how many folks are following the story....and most are good solid supporters of Charles even though he's a CRAZY Blogger!! Nothing like a good hearted crazyman with ADHD out there acting as our city's superhero. Who needs Superman when you have Charles Leblanc keeping an eye on things. Fredericton is much more interesting and far richer because of his unrelenting efforts.

Good to know Brian D. was there with you Charles. :) Bon chance mon ami..... you'll get some answers soon. Can I have the story/film rights to your life story?? Hmmm.... I wonder who would be best in the lead role? I'm partial to Robert Downey Jr. He's a bit nuts too.


Here it is.... and please do leave him an encouraging comment will you? thanks.

Surprised by a Daydreamer

Creativity thrives when one lends credence to one's intuition and replaces certainty with the wide eyed curiosity. Tapping into one's imagination allows one to see the world through the clarity of a prism.......acknowledging the hues of light and colour reflected in all directions and then some. Creativity is our best attempt at capturing a sacred beauty tucked in the mystery of our souls.

Tonight, I was given a surprise and I want to share it with all of YOU! There is a new blogger in town.... Her name is Daydreamer and she's my beautiful daughter. Martha's creativity is definately not a surprise. She was born with a confidence to rely on her intuitive imagination, and to see the world through her own prism of light and colour. It was evident from a very young age. Her blog, which will primarily be an avenue for her to share some of her photos and her love of music and lyrics, is a beautiful surprise! I love it and I believe you will too.

I welcome you to check out Daydreamer's photoblog for a glimpse of her captured creative gazes. And please "sign" her comment guestbook. She would love to receive some feedback. Thank you.

ps. There is a link to Martha's blog on my sidebar for future reference too.

For more surprises (this week's photo theme), check out Carmi's Written Inc. blog...a link to his blog is also on my sidebar.

laughing legs, happy feet, hopeful heart.

Anyone who reads my blog regularly knows how much I love the Boyce Farmer's Market in Fredericton. It is my pleasurable destination on Saturday mornings. I usually try to get there before the crowds so I can mooch around, buy produce and something savoury OR sweet to eat, take photos, and most importantly have a chance to talk to friends who work there and others whom I happen to cross marketplace paths with. It's a touch base place...........a "how was your week" kind of comraderie, though I do find that many of the conversations I end up having are much deeper and more interesting than one would expect. I think that's what makes this market unique.

There's no telling what subjects are on the menu........it usually depends on what is happening in the city or beyond it's borders. Politics is a huge staple, as it is THE destination for any glad-handing campaigner. Global issues, recent reads, what's happening at the Universities, the weather of course because that is ALWAYS threaded into a conversation with a Canadian, sports, health.....the economy are all fodder for opinion driven open airing. There are regular buskers, a balloon animal creative clown who last month had a sign asking everyone to VOTE for Tinsel for Prime Minister, a few regular people asking for money. There's a little girl entrepreneur who has her own table (a child's plastic picnic table) where she sells "tickle sticks" and beaded bracelets. Tickle sticks are kebab sticks skewered with gummy candy. The place is full of activity...........full of hardworking farmers selling their harvests, fishermen from the north shore selling their fresh catch, and creative individuals selling their wares.

BTW, The photos accompanying this piece are of the same woman I've been photo stalking for the past year, and she found me out!! :) I have been OUTED as a legging admirer!! Lisa sells wonderfully eclectic bags, satchels, knitted hats and of course leggings like the ones in the first photo. She's now a bloggie reader! Hope you like the pics altogether Lisa. You keep being leggy creative and I'll keep taking pics. Then, we'll do something REALLY cool with them, K?

Yesterday morning, I was up very early once again writing while everyone slept. After I put a dent into the piece I ended up finishing and posting later in the day, I got dressed and headed out the door, only to be blown away by the beauty of the sunrise. It never ceases to take my breath away, especially the sunrises in the fall. For some reason, and I'm sure there's a scientific reason to it, the sunrises are much more vivid and dramatic in the fall. Ribbons of red and orange spread out across a purple sky, interspersed with the dark layers of cloud. It made the newly naked trees silouetted as it reached from the land up into the vast sky. I stood there and marvelled at how lucky I am to be living in this part of the world where abundance is taken for granted, where beauty never sleeps. It is never hard to find.

It seemed more powerful, more emotional to me yesterday morning, and I think that had to do with much of the reading I have been doing this week on the conflict and oppression in the occupied territorities where my friend Paul has been experiencing and exploring as a pilgrim. His posts have been heartflowing and have prompted me to educate myself a bit more on the conflicts in that part of the world.

I couldn't live farther away from strife than I do. The sense of freedom, spiritually, politically, emotionally, expressively paints our skies with hopeful comfort. Our dreams expand beyond the horizons into the infinite possibilities of eternity. This is what I was thinking as I looked out at a new day dawning, realizing just how damn lucky I am.

As I turned on the car to set off, a song came over the airwaves which nearly sideswiped me with it's magical timing. Alison Kraus' version of Down to the River to Pray (from O Brother Where Art Thou) filled my van as I pulled out of the driveway and headed east towards the Monet sky, with the beautiful Saint John River flowing beside me. The hymn never fails to grab hold of something very deep inside me and pulls me into singing along off key but in my mind completely in harmony. The purity of her voice is like listening to a ray from the sun.

The next song on the radio also blew me away because of the symbolism and memories it holds for me. James Taylor's version of You've Got a Friend........ All of a sudden, I'm transported back to a chapel I had orchestrated many years ago at the summer camp I attended and worked at. It was the last chapel of the summer..........AND the last summer of my 12 years at camp. I had taught my group of girls/campers the song in order to have them sing it with me at the chapel. I loved the song and wanted to pass it onto the rest of the camp in order for it to be included in the songbook/repetoire for the future.

So, there I was driving to the Market but completely and utterly remembering the very moment when my girls and I got up to sing it...... what happened as soon as I opened my mouth to lead the song? I was struck with such a forceful blast of emotions, like my 12 years of camp was floating quickly passed me, that I couldn't get past the first two lines.

My throat constricted, my mind went blank and I was overwhelmed by the reality that my years at a place I STILL hold close was coming to an end. I was also acutely aware that I was standing up in front of 100+ sets of eyes who were expecting me to continue to conduct a Sunday chapel! I was a wee bit mortified! But, you know what happened? The group of 8 girls who had been under my wing for a whole month continued singing.

They circled around me and let me step back behind them and they taught the camp the song, with their fearless leader soaking in a puddly mess of teardrops behind them. It was like a passing of the baton. I'll never forget it. Many of those girls, who are now in their 40's are still in touch, and I love that. I heard from 3 of them just last week.

The drive to the market thank GOD is only 2 songs long or I would've visited my whole life in one reflective stint! It was just enough to boost my sense of who I am and what continues to stir my sense of gratitude. Once there, I parked in my secret parking spot, I got out of the van, hot tea in hand, camera slung over my shoulder as well as my big market bag. The sky was lightening up but full of a salmon glow. I found my way along the sidewalk heading towards the stalls, when I realized that the uplifting feeling I have for this corner of the world stems from a sense of belonging.......like being folded into a duvet just out of the dryer on a cold day.

And off I went.........with laughing legs, happy feet and a hopeful heart. The morning shone from within.

ps. thank you Lisa for being a good sport. I really am a sane woman. just a bit eccentric.

HERE is the link to Alison Krauss singing Down To the River to Pray. I dare you not to sing along!

Airing a few bits of laundry......

Hey there! I have much to write.....ooooo big surprise there..........and for some reason I needed to store it up in my noggin before I aired it. The focus around here......and by here I mean Burlington because I'm still here having been stranded for a couple of days due to the impotent hurricane named Kyle which in preparation the good people of all things plane like cancelled all flights to the Maritimes last night, was on my parent's 50th anniversary party, which by the way went very well. More to come on that......

So, I have a couple more vacation days ahead of me and if I wanted to be stranded anywhere it would be in my parent's home where I grew up. They've got everything here, including indoor plumbing and the internet! Lots of tea and wine too, so I'm roughing it really..........taking a sipping of tea.........

I started this blogpiece on Friday and didn't finish it. Like a good stubborn Virgo, I am determined to post it. However, I finished it once this morning after messing around with it and making it all pretty only to have the blogger gremlins eat the damn thing. I was so pissed! So, I have now soaked in the bathtub, puttered around, got dressed, made another cup of strong tea and here I am.....

what is so ironic is that the piece is........well............a glowing tribute to the love of all things blog and of writing. I waxed too poetic I think and made God gag with my self absorbed gushing. Humility washes over again. I have now tightened the piece, pulled out some of the gooey bits, and left some and am now ready to push publish again. And after that.........??? I plan to write more today. Hey! I've got a freebie day. Why the heck not? My head is full and spinning with ideas. Gotta make them come to fruition, right? What's the point of having a thought if it is not expressed. Thoughts float in a big hot breath of ether they arent harnessed to a few chosen words, right?

______________________

Airing a few bits of Laundry

I didn't know I was in a state of sleep a few years ago until I woke up. I thought it was a normal way of being. Somehow I had wandered away from my own nucleus while keeping pace with the expectations and responsibilities of the roles I had comfortably fallen into. It happens to all of us at some point I think, especially if there are other more pressing demands in our lives. Of course, we choose most of them...... most of which fall under one or more of the following categories ..... marriage, a career, parenthood, family, friendships, community. I'm sure we could all make a list of at least 20 different roles we assume in the run of one day!
There is a certain time in our lives, however, when all of those areas need attention all at once until they find a place in our own mosaic. There are very few days when they all seem to be in sync......in balance. There are fewer days when you can add yourself to the mix. It's like a carnival midway, with the roller coaster smack dab in the middle of it all ..... the multi-sensory colour, movement and chaos of our busy lives is a mezmerizing allure which pulls us right into the noisy hum. Its easy to get lost in the midway.......finding your way out can be tricky even if you try to retrace your steps. All of a sudden, you're surrounded by motion that is disconnected to you and if you don't stop to regroup, you may end up in a kooky hall of mirrors where your reflections of who you are, what you want, where you're actually headed become totally distorted. There is a miasmic sense to it.....like your soul going on a bender.
Though it seemed at the time that it was one moment of clarity, in hindsight it was an accumulative process similar to waking in the morning when we go from REM sleep to really opening your eyes. The previous winter, I was involved in a train the trainer workshop on teaching a program called "PLAR" (which stands for Prior Learning and Recognition). It is a portfolio development program to guide individuals through a process of identifying their own skills and gifts that they have gathered during their lives by reviewing their interests, listing their formal coursework but more importantly identifying what they have learned and what knowledge they've acquired both while working, living, schooling and playing. Part of the train the trainer homework was to develop my own portfolio and then present it to the group.
At first, I hesitated to take the course. Originally it seemed too light and fluffy......too trendy and unhelpful. Now I wonder if I was simply digging my heels in because I didn't want to "wake up." I still wanted to laze around a bit longer. Who knows? Once I pulled out the big basket of old photos, letters, certificates and various and sundry bits from my past, however, and started going through it while sipping on a glass of wine one night, I fell right into a trip down memory lane and had a blast. It sounds so self absorbed as I write this and think about how I want to describe the feeling, but it felt like a self imposed reunion. I had forgotten, or perhaps had just stored much of me........had simply tossed it into a big basket and closed the lid. But the more I read and revisited little snippets from my past, I saw the silouette fill in with colour. The process helped me move from REM to awakening, or at least brought me to a place where i was ready to open my eyes.
That spring of 2005, a friend of mine invited me to tag along to Quebec City for a couple of days. She was heading up there for some meetings with colleagues at Laval University and wanted company for the travel. Well, this was her explanation, but given that she has travelled around the world, in hindsight I now think she realized she could offer me a couple of days of wandering on my own as a means of letting me find my way again. That's exactly what I did. I needed it. I wandered around taking in la belle ville, seulement. Because it was pre-tourista season, I had the place to myself........the cobblestone streets of Old Quebec, the boardwalk overlooking the Saint Lawrence river with the Chateau Frontenac looming beside me.........the Plains of Abraham where school kids were acting out the battle scenes of an important historical moment in our Canadian collective history. I kept walking and walking, filling myself with good air, and pushing out the cobwebs. My pen remained untouched. My new journal uncracked. But, it was the beginning of my own spring.....I could feel it in my step. (Hey, thanks Helen!! You are a wise woman and I will travel with you anytime...I hear you're going to Germany next week. Can I come??)
A series of events three years woke me up and made me step out of that pseudo-comfort zone where i felt safe but basically lost in the carnival midway. The following summer of meeting a new friend, reuniting with old friends, reacquainting myself to the possibility of there being a God out there, reading new books........well new to me........brought me to my pen and journal again. Writing it down in one sentence doesn't give it the justice it deserves as to how it truly impacted my journey. Not only was it altered, my journey took on more clarity. It stirred my motivation, set fire to the yearnings i had stuck on the back burner. Consequently, one of the biggest changes happened when I set up a blog. This blog......and named it after one of the books I had just read.....
Today I celebrate 3 years blogging. There have been times in the past year when I have seriously thought about closing it down, especially when the writing and the ideas seemed to be drying up or when it felt like a chore instead of a joy. But, those times have been few and far between and were quickly erased whenever I received feedback on a piece i had written or when I was able to capture the essence of my thoughts. Through blogging, I have found a place where my love of writing can be captured and shared. Through blogging, I have had the opportunity to not only meet many of you through the virtual world tying us together in a way that no other means has been ever able to do......I have had a chance to meet some of you in person. Through blogging, my love of travel regained momentum.........and I took a flight to across the pond to truly touch fingertips with new dear friends Pip, Joan and Katie.


The journey continues as do the connnections and the reunions. The Greenbelt Festival is most definately on the horizon, where I intend to be, reuniting and meeting a soul friend I feel like I've known all my life and beyond.

The power of the pen, and the power of the blog along with the Virgo determination to pour it out as best I can have opened up big windows that overlook an amazing vista of possibilities.....I see the midway now as an adventure to be explored. It may offer up kooky reflections every now and then, but it also offers amazing excitement.



ps. thank you you all for a great 3 year ride so far................onward we go! A special thank you to my Finnan friend for introducing me to that land of blog and a place to tether my thoughts. No coincidences, right? It's all in the illusion of the stars....right?