this day

Some people will never forget this day. It will become etched as a memory, a milestone, a turning point, an ending, a beginning, a trial, a celebration.  This new day, invisible in its potential and how it will play out, could hold a spark that sets afire a brand new relationship, an oppportunity, an idea.  It could also hold an empty cup. Birth. Loss.  Rebirth.  Or something in between.

Dreams may be fulfilled. 

Longing may be met with affirmation. 

Tragedy may crash down heavily. 

Thresholds may be crossed.

A gorgeous exotic fish may be caught......because we all know there are plenty of beautiful fish out there in that deep blue sea.  It may be a day that will change your life. Who knows?

For some, the anticipation of this day holds hope.  For some, it harbours gut busting intensity.  For many, its just another day sliding and bumping into the next and the next and the next.  No difference in texture.  No difference is how it is seen nor how it is perceived.  The freshness is off the bloom before the sun peaks over the horizon.  

Resignation is just another word for apathy.

Serenity may visit.  Sorrow too.  On the same day.  Today.  Who knows?

Nervous energy may fill the air all around this day until it is time to relax, put our feet up with a sigh at the end of it.  Love may beam through a crack when you're least expecting it.  Or it may remain cloistered in a closet under a heap of discarded summer clothes until the search reveals it again. 

Hmmmm.......love. Real or imagined? The gut feeling of love bleeds from the same heart valve.  Sometimes though when you're really lucky, love can make the angels do the Highland Fling!  Now that would be the best kind of love to gaze at.  Such joy!  Could this be the day when real love radiates with such brilliance that it tans the soul? Who knows? 

Some people will never forget this day.  The one before us that hasn't even stretched out its sleepy limbs yet.  Grief may lift.  Hurt may replace it. Or perhaps mercy.  A softening of the heart that allows the memories sitting on the curtained windowsill gathering specks of dust to re-smile again.  To be admired, relived, cherished.  Pull open the drapes.  Open the window.  Let the breeze stream carry the grief away.  Or, let it tickle the tears until they stop their flow. Maybe thats what this day will bring.  Tears.  Who knows.  It hasn't started yet.

Or maybe you are an early early riser.....before the sun riser and your day has begun in a soup of rumination.  In comtemplative prayer.  In throwing the first load of laundry in the wash before "the day" really begins. 

Hesitation from indecision may wrap around the heart of this day. We just don't know yet.  Oh, sure we may have plans.  We may have a FULL ON agenda that keeps our feet from touching the ground for too long, while we grab a slab of fast food wrapped in greasy paper to scarf down in one gulp........ no time, no time....... gotta get through this one!  How often do we wish a day away even before dawn has arrived?

What is your vision of this day?  How will it play out?  Do we have a say in the way it flows?  Are you someone who will never forget this day? Maybe it won't be one for the record books.  Maybe this date won't matter in the long run. But surely, it is one to remember.  It will never pass this way again.  

N'encore jamais.  Je veux me souvenirs aujourd'hui.  No matter how it unfolds.  I may not remember the events.  What I will remember are the emotions stirred and felt.

Easter morning

"Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you, 
Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid......." 

So often it slips by unnoticed.  Those who know its medicinal magic seek it out. Cradled in the lonely remnants of the dark night where sorrow hovers like an ancient dream too complicated to comprehend, a blushing thinness appears over the sleeping hills. 

Just when you thought hope had been smothered by the lingering heaviness of standstill time, when your soul is clenched to ward off despair, it winks a deep pink so enticing you can't help but be pulled into its promise. A feast for your eyes. Salve for the spirit. At the very same moment when the pink blush smiles into a broader swath of tangerine and touches the darkness all around turning it into a tangled blue, a choir of birds sing out..... a welcoming invitation to sit in the rising passion of a new dawn. 

If only it could last forever, this moment of peace and hope.  I am held captive by a living snapshot.  Would  I grow tired of its beauty?  Would the hope I feel lessen in strength?  Perhaps, because like life, hope never remains still.   Its very nature carries us forward in its inspiration as it eases us into transitional changes.

We are kissed by the joy of a sunrise and rejoice in its loveliness. Its softening warmth is sweeter when we have waited on the wings where lonely echos gather. Let it's refreshing promise lift you up into its arms and carry you to a place where your gaze becomes beautiful again.  There is strength in the air we breathe.
 

The sun RISES on this inspiring morning while I sit in the quiet of my home with You holding my hand and give thanks. Thank you for the blessings all around me.  Thank you for the blessings I feel inside me on this beautiful, beautiful morning.

Happy Easter.
Let the miracle of the day bathe you in comfort.  I will allow it to do the same for me.

the power of a blessing....

I am sitting in the reliable stillness of my living room sipping on the first cup of reliable hot tea as I read this blessing in quiet whisper to myself this morning before daylight comes .... before my children wake up to start a new week  ....  before my feet really hit the ground running to help orchestrate a new week of work/school/life routine.   It may become a new part of my routine because by the time I reached the end of Father O'Donohue's blessing, I could literally feel a lift in my spirit.  I could hear his beautiful Irish poetic voice too. 

Many friends have warned me............ expect the "dips....."  It will be difficult for a long time.  So far they are right on.  As much as I expect the reality "dips," there is no way of predicting them, nor knowing presently just how deep the plunge can feel.  I expect the dips and when they come, I let go.  However, I also expect moments of release too.  And when they arrive, I embrace them with a full heart.  I give thanks to the support I have all around me, including friends who are far away, linked to me heart to hear through this blog. 

Sundays will the be most difficult day for me.  When it comes to Sundays, dinner and all the makings are a traditional grounding for me and my family.  There is nothing that I love more than Sunday afternoons spent at home cooking, planning, listening to music and interviews on the radio knowing my family is somewhere in the house doing their own thing.  It prepares me for the upcoming busy week, while it helps me clear my head. Yesterday, as I was told very clearly that there was no hope for reconciliation, no desire to work on the vows we took over 22 years ago.  In the middle of a Sunday afternoon. The dips arrived....... BIG TIME.  

Then they left me in peace.  It took a while, and it took reaching out and asking for friend and family fuel. But, I found peace.  By the end of the evening........ after I had made dinner and fed my family under a different scenario, I found myself sharing stories with  my daughter who cuddled up onto the couch to introduce to me a new song........ one it turns out she listens to every night as part of her routine to find sleep.  We laughed and shared, and she helped me find peace. 

This morning, it is my turn...... to lead them into a new week, a different kind of week and routine. Similar but different.  Because now?  Now, I have these beautiful words by Father John O'Donohue to lift me up out of resentment for a while to see hope to give thanks.   Let daylight begin....

Matins

Somewhere, out at the edges, the night

is turning and the waves of darkness

Begin to brighten the shore of dawn.

The heavy dusk falls back on earth

And the freed air goes wild with light.

The heart fills with fresh, bright breath

And thoughts stir to give birth to colour.

I arise today

In the Silence 

Womb of the Word

In the name of Stillness

Home and Belonging,

In the name of the Solitude

Of the Soul and the Earth,

I arise today.

Blessed by all things,

Wings of breath

Delight of eyes,

Wonder of whisper,

Intimacy of touch,

Eternity of the soul, 

Urgency of thought

Miracle of health, 

Embrace of God.

May I live this day.

Compassionate of heart,

Clear in word, 

Gracious in awareness, 

Courageous in thought, 

Generous in love.

John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us.

Expect the dips.........embrace the moments when a blessing can carry you back to hope.  I think it will be a new mantra to help lead us into the unknown.  One day at a time, right?  One day at a time.  A new one is dawning...........  I arise today.

time suspended

suspended between the blue shaded darkness
where light awaits on the threshold of time
liminal time
open ambiguity of the unknown
under the clock stars of night
straddled illusions resting in sleeping dreams
where reality of daylight awaits on the platform
behind the horizon
to take centre stage
in a fire of colour bursting up into the sky

Between now and then
meditative silence surrounds whispered hopes
streams of relaxing thoughts stir slowly
culminating in breath focused anticipation
birthing transition
liminal thresholding
blood and sweat pushing
of new life

fear and excitement collide
through the barrier of dreams
where blue shades fade into the light of a new day.
now becomes then.......becomes now.

and it begins with a healthy cry
and it begins with a relief sounding sigh
and it begins with a heart melting high.

new life craddled in dreams.

I heard the birds singing this morning before daylight. Its a welcoming sound....one i have been yearning to hear again. To know they have returned to this place where sleeping willows stood naked in the pale winter light brings me a river of hope. It is life unfolding anew.

Today, I awake as well with thoughts on a newborn. She's three weeks old. I met her only a week ago. She was all wrapped up in pink fleece, with her beautiful perfect tiny face and alert eyes staring up at the world from her car seat. She melted my heart. Today, her mother is struggling for her life after a debilitating stroke on Wednesday. My thoughts and prayers are for you Lacey. May you soon cradle your baby again. Get well dear Mom. We are all pulling for you.

shine on....

The light of day is changing as we awaken with a desire to embrace anew. It yearns to illuminate the tender green growth still hidden from sight. Instead, it clings to the grit and dirt silently accumulated over the time we dwell in winter respite. With finger pointing accuracy, it hovers over the unsightly nicks and gashes which mark our living spaces. Its beam spots the blemishes on our aging selves caused from a long wintering.

The light of day, warmer and more brilliant invites us to turn our tired faces, wrinkled and pale towards the healing sky. It welcomes the chance to tweak our sun abandoned flesh with rosy cheeked kisses while it shoos away the annoying aches in our underused muscles by injecting energy back into our limbs. It feeds us with hope.

The light of day, spring in its step lifts up over the horizon with a dawning of pastel shades of potential. It melts away the stark coldness of snow and ice and leaves a longing to hear the return of the early morning choir held silent for far too long. It transitions our dark winter ruminations and reflections into a place where we can begin to act on making those much needed changes happen.

We have been stagnant too long, holding too tightly onto our wishes and dreams to a point where we have come close to strangling them. Our grip clenches with a ferocity of a drowning man holding onto a small piece of safety. Steadfast, and vulnerably hardened by too many accumulated bruises, we learn to adjust our eyes to the light of day. Tentative at first, we roll up the shades and lift the sashes to reveal the rays of laughter again.

Spring arrives today. Magnificent and glorious. Shine on! Thank you God. I thought I had been left behind and forgotten.

creativity

In your light

I learn how to love.

In your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest,

where no one sees you,

but sometimes I do,

and that sight

becomes this art.

Rumi

Have you ever experienced the iridescent flow of creativity when the act of expression seems to come from the movement of an internal dance? The feeling is one of an alignment to a fresh air thinness, where freedom captures you in its magic. Sometimes we try so hard to be creative or to stretch our imaginations. Sometimes it even feels like mind zapping work because our energy to find that heartdance tangles in the tango of yearning.

There is a cross stitch step we often trip over in our desire to create. The wanting overpowers the action. Personal expectations and self-judgement blur the motion of doing, and of finding His dance of life hidden within us. We want to perform, paint, play out, poetize and as seekers of perfection, we lose sight of His gift of beauty and light where the soft murmuring passion quietly settles.

Perfection is not wanted on the voyage of discovery. Perfection is not found in the beauty of our artistry. When we touch on the blue-glass iridescence of shimmering possibilities, our grip on expectations loosens as the vision for our creations clarifies.

What interests me is the point where the illuminative transitional pull from feeling like the yearning seems to be choking the ability to produce anything of substance moves to a place where one enters the zone where creative flow alights. I believe it can be compared to experiencing early morning dawn after the 4 am dark night. Both are beautiful in their own way. Both are needed in the gestation of creation. Both can be dwellings where we are captured by the internal dance, if we don't find ourselves trapped in encircling yearnings. But, there is an indescrible essence where "aha" happens.....and the heartdance is found.

My New Year.

I would love to live
like a river flowing
carried by the surprise
of its own unfolding

John O'Donahue

It's morning though the darkness still hangs her drapes closed longer as a means of letting us know that the autumn splendour is working behind the scenes preparing to begin her show. A sneak peak of orange moves up from the horizon. Summer hangs on producing the harvest of her season. Transition seems to be in the air all around us, which induces reflections and forward thinking. It's difficult to be in the moment while going through a transitional period. I wonder why that is.........is it the comfort level? Fear of the unknown? Our desire to plan ahead as an instinctive means of survival? I don't know.

Birthdays too are transitional touchstones in our lives. They are like our personal New Year's....a time of reflection and of looking forward, wondering how the year will unfold.........wondering what is in store. Today is my New Year's. I turn 48 today. And as I write this while watching the sun begin to rise with the drapes of night lifting up to allow for a new September day to unfold, I smile in anticipation.

Soon, the river below my house will be visible for me to see. Soon it will unfold as it always does, carrying surprises in its flow. I will continue to learn to strive to do the same thing.


It's a beautiful morning, and new beautiful new year.........fresh and vital in its early unfolding. I will enjoy this day and all that it offers. I will be looking towards the future too because today I open a special savings account to save the money to attend the next Greenbelt Festival in August 2009. I will be there to take it all in, and to sip some Cointreau with a few beautiful friends.

Carpe Diem.

Morning Grace

Morning has broken

Like the first morning

Grateful are we for

All that we have

Praise with elation

Praise every morning

God's recreation

Of the new day.

These were taken this morning from my back deck. Enjoy the new day.

risen

i awoke this morning

to a wooing dawn song of the birds

standing in the dark ,

i looked out my window

to the other side of the river

mesmerized

by the floating luminal streetlights

all along its bank

reflections stretched out

like candle flames on the surface of the water

silent mercy in the sleeping calm

i thought i saw your face

your alluring smile almost within reach

quietly beckoning me

across the rippling light

to the safety on the other side

was it just a dream?