Skip

  "Whatever the intellectual quality of the education given our children, it is vital that it include elements of love and compassion, for nothing guarantees that knowledge alone will be truly useful to human beings. Among the major troublemakers society has known, many were well-educated and had great knowledge, but they lacked a moral education in qualities such as compassion, wisdom and clarity of vision."Dalai Lama.

 Besides my parents, there is one person in this whole world who had as much impact on the development of my values and on the choices I made as an adult.  His name is Skip.  Well, his real name is Bruce, but I've never been able to call him that. It would be too uncomfortable!  He's Skip.  Always and forever.  Just like I am Muskie always and forever. 

I'm not alone.  I daresay there are quite a few people out there in "summer camp land" who wouldn't hesitate if they were asked to identify the person who impacted them the most when they were growing up besides family members.  The first name to come to mind for many is Skip. After they declared that, out would tumble a whole canoe full of stories that revolve around a place that remains sacred in our hearts and memories. Alive and well these stories are!  All you have to do is tickle a Kawabi kindred just the chin and BING!  Out shines a story about Skip.  

Some of them would begin by focusing on that sense of childhood fear of this man who generated an untouchable admiration and desire to please in many!  Two thumbs up from Skip and your feet didn't touch the ground.  However, the underbelly of this are the stories of when at age 13 you got caught in the middle of the night performing crazy antics when you were supposed to be sound asleep in your own bunkbed!  I get shivers just remembering how it felt when 12 of us campers who had reunited after a long winter of wishing for camp again, were in the middle of taking photos of all of us on one bed........ with every single flashlight on and a loud cacophony of laughter peeling through the tent walls!  

Through the sound of 12 girls humming like a crowd at a bottom of the ninth world series game 7 with the score tied and the heavy hitter up to bat...... a seriously sharp baritone would cut the air and slice through the loud din! Silence ensued immediately.  For out in the dark on the path you had to take to get back to your own tent was a man who walked those same paths without a flashlight EVER in glow in the dark white tennis shoes.  That's all you could see!  The shoes!  It was probably best not to see the stern brow on his face.  You knew it was there anyways.  

I've never even attempted to write a piece on this blog about Skip because I find it daunting.  Not that I don't want to..... its just that so many conversations, activities, campfires, games, and interactions come to mind all at once.   What underlies all of the stories I share with him are the values he lived and taught daily.  Compassion, love and belonging were expressed through his actions.  Like tasty sweets, they were shared with everyone who had the bloody luck to be under his wing for even one summer.  Me?  I had 12 joyful summers.  

As a camper, I found my sense of belonging and a mentor who cared deeply for every single kid that got off that bus on the first day of camp.  It was his goal always to know the names of every one of us by dinner that first day.  It was his expectation of his whole staff too.  If he was stumped............ he bought you a bag of "tuck."   

Skip led us in song, taught us new games that opened up the whole camp property into a place of adventure.  He handpicked his staff and gave them his blessing and complete trust to lead their little packs of campers through a memorable time learning how to swim, how to sail......... how to canoe....... how to shoot an arrow..... how to sing a round of Fire's burning....... how to make new friends and work as a group. 

On the first night of my second year on staff, Skip wanted to talk to me.  He had brought along the two female senior staff with him, so I knew right away it was serious.  Much to my genuine surprise, he wanted to talk to me about my contribution as an Assistant Counsellor the summer before.  Not that I had screwed up completely........ With an assertiveness but also with compassion, he told me that he was disappointed in me as he had expected more from me.  He saw me as a more proactive leader than what I was showing. 

I was pretty stunned by the whole encounter and couldn't understand why he had to have these two staffers with him.  Until he explained that he wanted them to take me under their wing.  He wanted to make sure I had the best guidance that summer so I would be ready to take on the role of Counsellor the following year.  He wanted me to succeed as the Leader he believed I could be.

Needless to say, I worked my ass off that summer.  If Skip thought I had it in me, and he wanted to see it shine, well dammit I was going to prove to him he was right!  Though my confidence took an initial knocking, by the end of the summer I was 16 years old, I felt an even greater sense of belonging and a good feeling that I too had left an impression on the lives of my "campers."  

One of the most important aspects of that "SKIP TALK" night was how it opened up our relationship to a place where he and I could talk more about so many other topics.  True, there was still a sense of reverence one has for their mentor, but there was also an levelling of our interactions.  Adult to adult.  He put his trust me.  I put my trust in him.  He gave me responsibilities and guidance, and I fulfilled them as I tapped into my gifts.  We learned the human side of one another.  We worked together.  I thrived being on his "team."

A couple of years later, Skip approached me one evening during pre-camp.  He asked me if I would join him in talking to an Assistant Counsellor who needed some guidance.  All of a sudden the big staff girl shoes were on my feet.  It was my turn. I was the one who would follow through with this staff person and help her process the message from Skip, but also be by her side that summer.  It certainly surprised me, but I was honoured to play this role.  Passing on the values.......... passing on the compassion, love and belonging.  Developing trust.  Developing deeper interactions with one another by sharing.  Growing in leaps.  

Along the way, this staffer and I became lifelong friends. :)  Oh, and let me add too that one of the big girl staffers who was with me the night I got my talking to?  She's very much in my life still....... We all may live in different provinces, but we are in touch almost weekly.  Thank you facebook! :)

Years later, after many accumulative moments of shared feelings........ I returned to camp for a 40th anniversary reunion.  It had been 15 years since I had walked up the camp road towards the Lodge.  This time, I was accompanied by my own family.  For the first time, I was introducing them to my home away from home.  A place they had heard so much about had finally become the real thing........ the sweet scent of pine needles scattered on the soft ground in the woods, the tall trees that allowed only slivers of sunlight to pierce through, the sounds of laughter, boat motors, water play........ the cool breezes.... it was all there as we got out of the car and walked up towards the buzzing of the people there for the same purpose as I was.  To relive, reunite, rekindle, relight once again.   

As we ambled up to the top of the small hill on the road, I saw in the distance this man whose blonde hair had a little more grey in it, wearing a golf shirt, shorts and those glow in the dark tennis shoes.  He stood there waiting to greet us and I realized that I hadn't seen him since the night of my wedding reception where we danced together, Muskie and Skip.... mentee and mentor.  It took every single muscle in my body not to go right into a sprint towards him.  It felt like I had just completed the Amazing Race and he was standing by the finish line!  

I held my composure right up until I stood in front of him.  His arms went right around me like a big bear as I proclaimed..... "I'm home!"  

"Good to see you again Muskie..."

Tears? Oh yeah!  Both of us....   Then Skip turned his focus on my daughter whom he had never met in person before.  

"You must be Martha.  Welcome to Camp Kawabi.  I hope you will call it home too just like your Mom does because you belong here too." 

blue balls

Have I mentioned that I am the proud owner of a blue ball? Just one.  But, there are many scattered throughout the city, lovingly displayed outdoors by the women who possess them.  Some are green and some are blue.  Balls. Female Balls.  Magical.  Mystical.  Lucky.  And you thought they were only found on frigid males.

Originally, I was given a green one.  It sat in a decorative ball holder on table on my back deck.  When my friend Joy presented me with this lovely item, purchased at the Giant Tiger Boutique (she purchased them all!) I was informed that not only did the ball contain the power to change the tides in my life, but as the owner, I was now a member of a sisterhood.   Though I don't know these women yet,  I feel a connection to them in a JOY-full spirited way.  And, I will get to meet them in the fall when Joy throws a Balls party on the night of the harvest moon to celebrate the power of positive thinking.  You see, Joy knows "the REAL Secret....." and she spreads her nom de plume everywhere she goes.

All day long, the green ball absorbed the sunlight......... soaking it into its hollowness...... filling up with good karma. And then when the sun went down, it would GLOW a brilliant neon green. NEON KARMA! Every time I walked by the livingroom window, my eyes would gravitate to its incandescent light.  And every time my son would pass by the same window, he would stop and announce to me that the green ball creeped him out.  It was a pretty weird colour, I have to admit.  I waited for the tides to change.  

It was Joy who first told me in the spring when we met to discuss some business that I was in shock.  "You're in shock you know," she said.  I didn't really believe her.  You see, I was functioning and in fact had the ability to focus on the serious matters one needs good clear headed thinking.  We also had a good deep conversation that day.  How could I really be in shock when I was still able to put one foot in front of the other and get through a workday as well as deal with the stuff marriage separation is made of?? But, her words remained with me.  Everytime I woke up to the harsh realities, everytime I found myself in a puddle of tears, or bellowing out my anger, I would say to myself,  "Joy may be right.  This may be what shock feels like."   When she gave me my green ball around the beginning of June, I was still raw.  I can see that now.  Because I'm not that raw anymore.

I also know that about a week after I became the proud owner of the green ball......... my shock lifted.  Overnight, something lifted off me.... a veil?  A cloak....?  The heaviness was gone.  As soon as it did, I knew Joy was right.  I had been in shock!!  Now I know.... this will help me understand it in others.

A week after that,  while I was right in the middle of trying to write a fictional story that seems to have a life of its own, I received a seemingly outrageous email from Joy informing me that it has been driving her crazy....... that I should've received a blue ball not a green one.  I laughed!  But, something inside me felt the same way.   How nuts is that?? So, I emailed her back...... informing her that I thought she was correct and asking her why she thought this.... then I would tell her why I agreed. 

She replied........... "3 reasons.... You face the river, you are a water person, and it's creeping Max out."  

I replied......... "Agree!  I am a river girl, plus I have been trying to write a story about a little girl who meets a Blue Angel.  It has morphed from a kids story to a spiritual one all on its own and I can't seem to find the ending.  I think the glow of the blue ball would be inspirational...  I need blue light!"  Within the hour, Joy pulled into my driveway for the official ball swap.  We were killing ourselves laughing....... it seemed so ridiculous, but spirited.  Nothing like some lightness eh?!  I told Joy then that my shock had lifted, and she said she could see that.  "The tides have changed Dana," she said. "Do what you are doing to heal.  It's working........ and this blue ball will bring good luck.  I take this stuff seriously you know...." 

I put my new blue ball in the holder...... and waited for the sun to go down.  When it did, it initially glowed an indigo blue, the same colour my sister and I painted my bedroom in the spring as a way to radically change transform it into MY room.  A very good sign, I thought.  As the skies darkened, the ball began to glow the same colour as the blue in the ocean on a summer day.  It WAS a lot more calming.  I AM a water girl.  My gaze faces the river.  Water calms me like nothing else.   I look out at this glowing blue ball on my back deck, and I feel a warmth and a calm and a giggle knowing that it emits BLUE KARMA.  I also think of the other women I have yet meet who have the same silly thing sitting on their back decks!  I can't wait to meet them!!!

Since then?  So many weird and wonderful things have happened.  So many that its freakingly spooky!!  

The next day, I received an email from a new friend whose nickname is "acrossthewaters," who sent me photos of flowers that looked so much like the ones I take, which I refer to as flower porn.  I couldn't believe it!  Flower porn!!  From a person named "acrossthewaters! " After that, he invited me to go on a hike to check out a hidden waterfalls.... I mean, that is spooky!  Of course, I went.  How could I not?  Water! Revealing flowers? And it was there that I discovered Waterfalls therapy!  It's magical!  Acrossthewaters?  You bet. 

The tides turned....... and I was asked to deliver a sermon on God's abundance.  I had the chutzpah to say yes.  How could I mess up?  I was the proud owner of a big blue ball. More importantly, with a good deal of help from my friends (thank you Anne!!) I focused, researched, read, wrote and wrote and wrote......... edited and then REWROTE it all.  Before I knew it, I was standing up in front of a congregation which included the smiling faces of my friends and family delivering a message on the importance of connecting with others.  Blue light.  Do you know that blue light is also a reference to the Holy Spirit?  

The tides turned.  I've finished my story.  I really am proud of it because it ended up with layers and layers of spiritual meaning, which seemed to unfold on its own.  It turned out to be about a little girl who has an awakening when she meets a Blue Angel.... aka, The Holy Spirit.  Blue light.  It glows. The ending found me during a church service.  I havent posted it yet.  It needs more breathing.  Soon, I will post it here.  

I began to review the writing I have done over the past year.  The first story that jumped out at me was entitled River Girl.  Originally, I had written thinking that it was about someone other than me.  Hahahaha!  I re-read it and see how predestined it was....... how much I was aware of what was happening in my marriage and how I was feeling about being misunderstood and dismissed as odd and difficult.  I laughed!  

I took a risk and signed up for a day long workshop on Tension Release Exercises and became a believer in the ability to physically release pent up emotions.  It was a day of enlightenment....  a new "tool" to use personally and professionally because it completes the type of talk therapy I use in my job.  While there, I reconnected with an old acquaintance whom I had been wanting to see and talk to for MONTHS!  We used to bump into one another often and talk about religion and spirituality and I had this urge to seek him out.  We're now connected again.  

Last week?  I met with my Therapist Joan, whom I admire and feel a strong connection to.  She has been a Godsend.  She is the one who taught me that tears bring strength..... and points out to me how sacred this journey is that I have found myself on.

As I spilled my stuff that day, I was focused on how I am going through yet another work related issue on my own role as a counsellor. I shared a few stories from my past as a camp counsellior because this is where I began to see it as a career.  As I told her a few stories, I was thinking strongly about a situation with a person who was really struggling at the time and I had tried my best to help her.  She had to leave camp that year.  She loved camp as much as I did.  Because of the situation etc, we lost contact.  Until the evening after meeting with Joan.  After 30 years, I received an email, addressed to Muskie... me.  It blew me away.... my breath caught!  Tears flowed. We are now catching up on life.  

Coincidence?  I think not.  I stopped believing in coincidence when an Irish faerie showed up in my life 5 years ago who told me stories about river ghosts,  and spirits in trees and convinced me to start writing again.   Now that I have a blue light in my life, I riding these new tides........   BLUE KARMA.

So, If you're looking for me and i'm not home feeling the radiating healing powers of my blue glow ball?  This River Girl will be out in the woods soaking up some Waterfalls therapy. 

Yeah, I own a blue ball.  

I've got that going for me and more.  

Sunday morning JOY.

I first heard this Michael Franti song about a month ago while driving home from work. It LIT me up! Amazing how one song can boost your spirits up into the clouds.... This one does it for me. I love the very idea that Franti sings about.... that Rain is the sound of sunshine.... It is a metaphor for life.

This morning, as I thoroughly enjoy my Sunday morning just putting and feeling as sense of freedom and completeness, I am up dancing like nobody's watching. Well guess what? NO ONE is! I drove my son to the basement. My energy was too much for him to take.

Beautiful..... JOY on a Sunday morning. We create it with a little help from the music in our lives. Enjoy!!! Dance!!!!

ps. I have no idea why the youtube video doesn't fit within the borders of my blog. I guess because the song needs to be played loudly..... it's too BIG for borders. :)

dear santa..........

Dear Santa.

It's been a year since I touched base with you.  I hope you're doing well and are more organized than I am.  Though I know you've got a tinytown full of happy helpers, I'm still amazed that you're able to get all those toys in that sleigh of yours and whiz around the world in one night.  It seems a wee bit unbelievable, but then one does have to live making those giant leaps of faith or we'd all become pessimistic beings now wouldn't we?  However you manage such a feat, I applaud you.

So much has happened this year Santa, it's hard to know where to begin. But, then you've been paying attention havent you?  Besides, you have no time for lolly gagging reading at this point in the Christmas season.  And I don't have time either to lolly gag either.  So, perhaps I will put off any end of year reflections until after the big day.  I will use my emerald friend's 5 word exercise to try to sum up where I am right at this moment ......... flurried, blurried, worried, hurried, stillness-scurried.  Does that describe how busy and whizzy I feel?  'Tis the season ............. falalalalalalala.............

Hey Santa?? Did you know that Elvis is alive and rock in it out in my town?  It's true!!  He showed up at my house yesterday and entertained a bunch of ladies who were here for lunch.  He had a flashy gold jacket on, and shiny swingin' black shoes.... his eyes were as blue as the summer sky and his sideburns as black as coal.  You should've seen him gyrating Santa!  A couple of those pelvic thrusts verged on obsene! But, we took it in stride and howled with laughter!

It was so good to see my friend laugh and cry all at once when Elvis seranaded her.  That was the real reason he appeared.  He knew she needed to find herself revelling in a good time after suffering such grief and loss this fall.    Somehow Elvis knew what songs to sing....... it was a magical thing because he picked her favourites without anyone telling him.  Which makes me wonder if perhaps you had a say in this song selection??  I mean, you would know Santa.  You probably heard her singing the words long ago when she was a teenager in love with The King of Pop.

Hey, did you happen to see some fireworks last night Santa?  We celebrated Winter Solstice by gathering at our friend's home in Keswick Ridge for a potluck and a singsong inside.  Outside, the kids organized a pyrotechnic display of whizzing, banging, exploding lightworks that lit up our section of the sky.  It was so dark out which made the colours even more brilliant against that backdrop.  I watched it standing by a big blazing fire that cracked and popped and sizzled while it devoured large tree limbs cut up just for the occasion.

Personally, I prefer the campfire show over the fireworks.  It fills me up again with contemplative notions and a feeling of gratitude as it draws me into its alluring flicker.  I've always had a thing for this kind of atmosphere havent I Santa?  Do you remember when I used to set up a good blaze in the living room fireplace at home when I was young and fall asleep beside it?   Do you ever do that Santa......fall asleep in front of the fire?  I bet you do.

We have a whole bunch of people coming to our house tomorrow night and I can't wait for it all to begin.  It brings my home alive and fills it with Christmas cheer.  As you can see, I've been really busy. I know your list is long and you check it twice..........but I gotta say, my list is long too, all in preparation for the big day.  Tell me, what do YOU do on Boxing Day?  I'm going to be at the airport at 4 am with my family saying goodbye to the youngest as he embarks on his trip to Costa Rica for a whole month!  I must've lost my mind agreeing to that one.  Yeah, we're thinking we may just stay up all night and crash afterwards.  I don't know.

In the meantime Santa, let me get to my wishlist to add to yours.  I know its late, but i only have a few things I'd like under the tree on Christmas morning.  And you know I've been a very good girl..... sort of.  So, here it is.....

• Something shiny, like bling.
• Something sparkling, like a little enlightenment
• Oprah's timeslot.  I have always wanted to be a daytime talk show host.
  
• Dinner and music with Billy Joel.
• a new pair of jammies.... mine were chewed by a puppy we had to say good bye to earlier in the year.
• Slippers........same reason
• A bright red sporty car.  You can pick out the make and model.  I'm not fussy.  Oh, forget that, I really want my own Volkswagen Beetle.  You can surprise me with the colour.
• A plane ticket to the UK to attend the Greenbelt Festival again.
• A chance to see U2 live......with my family.  Oh, and can you send Pip over too?  I want to see U2 with him as well and watch him stand there with joy smiling all over his face.  
• And peace on earth.  We could use a little bit of that too.

Can't wait to see you again............ hope you have enough room to fit my stuff into your sleigh.  Take care........  I'll make sure I have a cold Moosehead ready for you.  I hear you're lactose intolerant now.

love you.......

signed,

Me.

ps. Can you fix the lights on my wreath hanging on the front of the house?  I've tried twice and I just don't seem to be able to get it right.

church

For my James, dancing like no one's watching in the streets of Barcelona... with love xx

rapture

.....alights after you take a big leap off the cliff into a deep dark cool lake. Arms splayed, legs kicking wildly, you fill the humid air with whooping bellows as you smack-hit the water with a flesh stinging force. You plunge under the surface only to pop back up stunned and a little shook up from the undignifed feel of a lake enema. As you tread water to regain your sense of direction, and to pull your swimsuit out of the crack of your sorry bum before you swim to shore, a calm moment surrounds you.

silencing bliss
quiet joy stirrings
a melting knowing

falling down, shouting out, plunging in, popping up, pulling out, then looking around in awe and new eyes....

rapture leaves you with a message that it has nothing to do with stoic dignity and more to do with flailing like a crazy person happy to be soaking wet alive.

i'm a happy enchilada....

There is a man whom I have never met face to face but who has been in my life longer than my husband and has followed me around wherever I've roamed. On days when I sorely needed some grounding and a little lightheartedness, I have ALWAYS been able to count on this man to put a legal/illegal smile on my face. In fact, this man impressed my husband so much when I introduced the two of them that I believe he had an impact on the fate of my ensuing marriage to my husband. He even told me so!

Well, it turns out this man is coming to town, and I plan to send him an email to invite him for dinner. It's time we met face to face....to sit on my back deck and swill a few beers and talk about "how the world goes round....one day you're up and the next you're down....it's a half an inch of water and you think you're gonna drown.... that's the way the world goes round...."
Or maybe we'll chat about "blowin' up your TV...and movin' to the country to plant and little garden and eat a lot of peaches and try to find Jesus on your own." OMG, what fun it would be to have John Prine for dins! I mean the man's gotta eat...why not at my house??

Unfortunately....tickets to his concert sold out faster than Leonard Cohen for God's sake, and we weren't one of the lucky ones to nab any of them!! So, we'll be heading to Saint John to catch his concert there. Personally, I blame Terry Seguin who BLABBED on and on and friggin' on his CBC morning for the past week and got the whole damn county all frothy about getting tickets! GRRRRR! (Terry, if John Hiatt happens to show up in this fair city, I will sabotage your microphone until I can get my hands on tickets....either that, or you're taking me with you!!!)

Despite my disappointment that I can't see Mr. Prine sing Fishin' and Whistlin'....and croon about the Angel from Montgomery....sing about his Grandpa who was a Carpenter in my own town....I am PSYCHED that I will be sitting pretty at the Imperial Theatre sometime in August soaking in the words and tunes of a one of a kind raconteur....

Next week?.....a whole new ballgame for ticket purchasing. The other man in my life ... my son, Sir Maxwell silver hammer....? He and I are going to attempt to secure two tickies to see McCartney in Halifax. Wish us luck! Chances are they too will sell out in 5 minutes or less. :)

A slice of Prine.....enjoy his song and his Happy Enchilada story.... ! He owns a piece of my heart this man....

awe

Awe is not as intangibly distant as we think. It doesn't have to be an earth stirring experience where the memory is etched onto lifetime pages in scrapbooks. Rather, awe is found in small daily meditations. Life changing on its own? Maybe not. But, if we continue to live with our 5 senses and our hearts wide open to the wonder of the movement and feelings around us and in us, these minute reflections pull you to joyful affirmation. Small affirmations accumulated evolve into life changes.

As we stood, glass of wine in hand, beside a bonfire where the maple sap was boiling and looked up at the ever changing sky, my friend Heather and I whispered to one another....."arent we blessed to be living in such a beautiful place?" Given that both of us usually have big enthusiastic voices and are easily excitable when conversing, the very fact that the sky and the landscape moved us to a whisper.....we knew without verbalizing it that we had been experienced a cleansing moment when awe came to visit.

In unspoken reverence, we stepped out of real time and enjoyed the show....knowing we will never ever take beauty for granted.

ps...do you see the heart in the top photo?

reconstructing joy

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice.

Excerpt from Ash Wednesday, T.S. Eliot.

I read the full T.S. Eliot poem in an autobiographical book entitled "Spiral Staircase," written by religious scholar and author, Karen Armstrong. She refers to this stanza and then explains how it helped her realize how we continue to work on reconstructing joy. I certainly related to her explanation and could see clearly how we are on a constant journey of ups and downs and all arounds as we strive to climb out of confusing stresses. Here are my own thoughts.....

Our discomfort, our struggles are all a part of reconstructing joy. Anxiety and the encumbering fears wrapped in the unknown have the capacity to cement us in limbo leaving us without the ability to move forward. If we work at recognizing these feelings in us, however, we can renovate by using this negative mortar as foundation for building joy again.

We demolish and rebuild….change/alter/reconstruct. Its inherent in us to do so. And sometimes in order to be able to do this, we have to let go of old joys, worn down constructions realizing they are past the due date. Never forgetting them mind you, but not allowing the past to have such a grand say in the rebuilding of our present and future joys.

Joy is never static. Sometimes its a feather fleeting touch. Sometimes we can soak in it for a long time, like a warm bath. Sometimes we can rejoice in it with another person in our lives and let it fills us a glow of love. We can grow in joy, but we grow most in the construction process where we are stretched, refreshed, poked and prodded. Joy is the gift after the growth....after the discomfort. It is always lovely to attain this pinnacle point.....the peak of the mountain where this zestful full bodied smile waits for us.....sitting comfortably in the hands of God.

When we feel joy, we feel whole and holy loved by God.


**the photo was taken at the Art Gallery of Ontario....This new spiral staircase was designed by architect Frank Gehry. Stunning to see in person.

Eros

Large Two Forms, Henry Moore

outside of the Art Gallery of Ontario

"Eros can pull life towards the edges and depths where death lurks. From ancient times a kinship has been acknowledged between Eros and Thanatos, the death instinct. Surfing the tides of Eros one comes to feel that the life-force joy could surge through all limitations, even death; or indeed there is such a homecoming in Eros when one succumbs to its force and abandons self in the sweet dying of complete release."

John O'Donahue, Beauty; The Invisible Embrace.

When the intoxication of two people draw them together in an act of love, where they discover the ultimate beauty of one another, where they form a union so blissfully joyful, are they also experiencing the tender weep of mourning too? When two people reach the expressive pinnacle of their vulnerable lovemaking, is it comparable to being touched by the hand of God?

Eros is alive and dwells in the sensuous pores of our being. It allows our own gaze to be beautiful. It illuminates our dreams and imagination and sets off a glow we can embrace. Perhaps what we experience when the air is steeped in the essence of "abandoning self in the sweet dying of complete release" is a sense of being connected to the souls of past loves....to the soul of the clay beneath our feet and of the harmony found in the living stones which carry our stories into eternity.

Life....love....death....love....heaven on earth.

lovely simplicity

lost in a clutter filled life,

behind monuments and trophies,

remnants and weeping trash....

complications

mired in endless ruminations

tied to webthreads of dusty dread

are the sweet simple trinkets

held in my cupped hands.

i want to share them with you.

Can I share them with YOU?

a glimpse of the last of sunset's glow

one blooming delight

a festival of candlelight

sunwarmed juice of strawberries ripe

the smooth taste of deep red merlot






a hushed silence felt in comfort
the touch of our fingers entwined
an embrace on a lonely winter's night
a long lingering kiss goodnight
and three simple words expressed in the breath of a whisper....
I love you




clear away the clutter and you will see my cupped hands.
they hold the simplicity of an evening together.
they reach out for you.
lets pour that glass of wine
turn on some soft music
pull closer to the warm embers
and bask in its glow

on this stormy night of angry blowing snow.

Brought to you by Carmi's Thematic photo word of the week.....simple. I guess i'm a simple romantic trying to de-clutter. For more simple offerings, check out Carmi's Written Inc link on my sidebar. And may you find a few moments of shared simplicity for yourself this week.

beguiling joy

Opportunities to gather in collective joy have diminished over the years, suppressed by our puritan ancestors, dismissed by the everyday time crunch, considered a unneccessary frill attached to the fabric we wear. It isn't necessary, some believe. Too frivolous. Who has the time when just getting through a day fighting off the blues is the order of the day? Day in and day out? Who has the energy even? Besides, get a group of people together and all hell would break lose. We've seen that happen after sport matches. It started out as a celebration and ended up in brawls, looting and even deaths. It's happened so often that our opportunities for collectively joyful celebrations are policed and reined in. damn those drunk rowdies!

We are pent up anal retentive beings aren't we? When did this become the norm? When did a gathering of joy become a frightening concept void of decorum? Like a virus, it seeped into our psyche, penetrated by class domination and the dismissal of cultural and religious traditions. Instead, we slapped rules and judgements on what is acceptable in our society. Boundaries, rules and the banning of gathering en masse has stripped us of opportunities to feel the rapturous energy of ourselves and others.


Even our entertainment choices became one dimensional......on a stage, on a screen, in a polite forum in a park. Our churches grew in hierarchical top down sermonizing, where the congregation sits and does what its told.....pray NOW, sing NOW, give money NOW.....and then go home. God forbid you yelp out an amen at the wrong time. God forbid someone in weeping tatters should arrive and join the self conscious starved congregation. How embarrassing that would be?? Audiences with no role except to receive the stimulation all around, leaves a feeling that possibility has left the building along with spontaneity, along with the very desirous feeling of collective joy.



It used to be there were common squares in villages and towns set up to promote the Hallelujah moments of the people who gathered. Now, if they still exist, they have more often than not beened turned into a place to stick monuments, or filled with cultivated gardens too perfect to tamper with. If for example a small group arrived at the common square intent on drumming their music as a means of generating joyful energy, we would smile politely at them all the while thinking they were odd hippie types, and move away from the sound.


Are we too busy, important, focused on our dutiful tasks to appreciate the freedom of the drumming? I want the feeling of the heart beat pulling us to others.....the intensity of releasing ourselves from the prison of "self" where the wild beauty of sheer joy and a hot beguiling belonging can erase all negativity. Drug me with a joy which shatters a hundred griefs.


We may have created a society where we have little opportunities to swell up to release this energy, but we haven't lost our yearning and deep deep need for it. Most of us have experienced it in our lives. We do know how it feels........and we know how magically freeing it is when our egos evaporate unnoticed, when the scattering of individuality merges into an orgiatic one. It is an immersion where anything is possible....



We've had a taste of this elixir, and nothing is more powerfully life affirming. Nothing strips away depression than sharing this drug. Nothing compares to immersing oneself in the sea of sheer rapture. (Isn't that THE best word? RAPTURE! The mind possessing feeling of intense joy and love that pushes away all other emotions.... loveitloveitloveit! Gotta get me some more of that rapture.....!)

Rapture....the holy fire of joy bursting from an inside grin too delighted to remain still anymore. The grin has got to express!

Ecstasy

Bliss

Elation

Wildness

Messy in all its glory

JOY-FULL Rapture

There is something wrong with this? I don't think so! When I have found myself in the middle of collective joy, it's like my limbs grow outward beyond my flesh and body entangling with others naturally, my voice blends into the harmonious esctasy of a choir, my heart opens to possibilities. Joy expressed sizzles in delightful joy, a cacophony of messy contagious hysteria. When I have felt it in my life, I have been given a glimpse of what heaven holds.

Bring on the song and dance......bring on a celebration......let spontaneity spark a holy AMEN of beautiful voices stepping beyond the boundaries and into the choir of joy. We need to feel it again......the whole world needs to feel it collectively again. Think of the possibilities....a world party beaming.