from the earth.....

"One of the greatest dangers in the spiritual life is self-rejection. When we say, "If people really knew me, they wouldn't love me," we choose the road toward darkness. Often we are made to believe that self-deprecation is a virtue, called humility. But humility is in reality the opposite of self-deprecation. It is the grateful recognition that we are precious in God's eyes and that all we are is pure gift. To grow beyond self-rejection we must have the courage to listen to the voice calling us God's beloved sons and daughters, and the determination always to live our lives according to this truth."  Henri Nouwen.

A friend sent me this quote.  It came at just the right time because I had been thinking about this very topic!  My fractured thoughts...........

 Humility is a complicated concept to describe, yet it seems to be the most simplified levelling way to be. Living, thinking, feeling, breathing, acting with a sense of quiet modesty?  Its not something you can openly aspire to "be."  Or is it?  No one announces:  "My New Year's Resolution is to lose 20 pounds and be humble by March 1rst."  Or, how about..... "Look at me!  I'm so darn humble!"  No, a person who would be described as having a presence of humility has no ego-driven arrogance around them.  Rather, it is more of an unspoken (because it doesn't need to be broadcasted) realness...... an authentic respect for themselves and others.  Humility is an equalizer.

Based on Nouwen's interpretation that humility is not the same as self-deprecation, can you think of anyone in your life whom you would describe as a humble?  There are a few people that come to mind right away.  Automatically thoughts of them bring a grin to my face and a knowledge that whenever I see them, I want to be near them. 

We describe these people as "salt of the earth...." They are "comfortable in their own skin...."

It's like they have these massaging waves of comforting energy wafting out of them that affirm you.   Friendly, balanced, forthright in what they believe in, respectful of other's thoughts and feelings, receptive to listening, kind, aware, keen to learn ......  Sure, they can be spontaneous.  Yes, they can express anger and frustration especially when it has to do with justice.  The thing about someone who would be described as humble is that when they seek justice, they also measure their responses with kindness.  Quietly.  Without showmanship.

Humility..........

Comfortably from the earth.

Balanced in time and place.

Contentment with self.

Confidence in others.

Believes answers may never be found

Embraces the mystery under the cloud of unknowing....

Always barefooted in the sand, walking along the shoreline, living freely in that moment.

Receptive to beauty in all things.

Justice sprinkled with kindness.

May we taste its salty presence from time to time.......

Beach in Souris, PEI, May 2010

where humility met up with a seeker

instruments of peace

Lord, make us instruments of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let us sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is discord, union;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, Grant that we may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console,
To be understood as to understand,
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

I always return to this prayer.  For me it holds the key ingredients to living as God intended us to –

***With a heart driven reverence for all of life by breaking it down beyond the complicated ruminations to the simple elegance of the natural elements we live amongst.

*** With the belief that what impacts me, will indirectly impact those around me and visa versa.  Our lives flow in and around one another in ways that more often than not will remain part of the mystery.  

Like everyone, I am imperfect.  My reactive emotions go awry and hurt others even when I don’t intend them to because of my lack of skills in recognizing the deeper triggers they lance.  Sometimes it’s only upon shadow driven reflection, or when someone points it out to me that I become more aware of how I’ve been perceived or how I have misbehaved.  It is only then, from the place inside where shame dwells will awareness come from the “whys” and the “how comes….”  

Our reactive emotions are ego led.  We soften and become more humble when we recognize the blind side of ourselves and how much we can lash out if we are incensed by not being understood, or by believing our personal needs are somehow supposed to be met by someone other than ourselves.   Gentleness, as it is so beautifully spoken through St. Francis of Assisi’s prayer,  is the harmony which wraps us in peace.   We hear the hymn and live the hymn when we eliminate the ambitious bully from our spirit.

*** With the intent of offering support without expectations or recognition.  This is difficult to do, because we all love to know we are needed.  We all want to be loved by the people around us.  But sometimes, through our own previous actions or because of the other person’s woundedness, or because of many uncontrollable forces that seem to penetrate our lives in ways we can even foresee let alone manage, we are fueled by our egocentric “needs” to be fulfilled.  

Our actions and reactions go from kind offerings with no strings attached to giving with convoluted expectations.  We set ourselves up if we offer ourselves to the service of others with a sense of trying to fill up our ego tanks.    I want to attract what I am, not attract what I want.   I say this prayer with that in mind, and perhaps one day that sense of contentment will not be so fleeting. 

*** From a place of honest sincerity….. I am who I am and will try my best to offer the gifts I have been bestowed, and let go so I can live my intended destiny.  The best that I can strive for is to be myself and not carry a false mask.  

What comes to mind is Thoreau’s quote:  “If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours….”

Love is an action word.  To love is to be your real self and to try your best to always look through the lens of another’s gaze.

Not that any of this is easy.   

Mid afternoon light streams, 

Church of the Holy Trinity, Toronto

April, 2010

a touch of serenity

He quietly slips under her skin with a soft sigh and holds her soul on a pillow of down. He rocks her as gently as unseen waves on a calm summer day and surrounds her in a honeysuckle breeze, an aroma that lightly touches her skin, quenching that inner aching thirst to be loved. He leaves her in his haven where desires melt into contentment, where sleep comes like a baby's, safely and soundly. Not a peep of discomfort can be heard as he pours himself into the nooks where worry dwells. As fleeting as he can be, serenity is a welcome surrendering respite like the first sip of a perfect cup of tea. 

Both make her smile.  Both allow her to acknowledge the blessings all around her.

light touch

warm love

curls up cradled in a crescent moon,

gently moving

in rock-a-bye comfort.

soft affection

knowingly tickles inside smiles

tenderly motioning

a lullaby of reassurance.

light touches 

spare us the search for words we sometimes can't find. 

light touch feelings 

carry us through static times when the air isn't hushed anymore. 

words lose meaning 

when they aren't accompanied by those krinkled eyed glances. 

we touch each other 

when we gently speak with our eyes.

it's as powerful as relaxing into a welcomed hug.

Elements

"As you grow, you develop the ideal of where your true belonging could be - the place, the home, the partner, and the work.  You seldom achieve all the elements of the ideal, but it travels with you as the criterion and standard of what true belonging could be."  John O'Donohue, Eternal Echoes, Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong

Lately I have been really struggling with errant thoughts about health and mortality.  I don't know why.  It happens from time to time and it impacts any semblance of routine i have in my life.  It pulls me into a state of awakened fear and anxiety like nothing else.  Panic just fills my pores.  It also messes up my ability to focus, to write, to find my grounding.  Does that happen to you?  I

t's like a massive jolt of caffeine to the soul and I have a very tough time shaking the intrusive thoughts.  It makes me question who I am, where I am, if everyone around me is safe, if I am fulfilling my life to the best of what I am capable of (no), if I am giving of my love and kindness as expressively as I can.  I wonder if this is all there is, and wrestle with trying to understand how others see me.  Basically, I question my sense of belonging and get all tangled up in a mess of self loathing.  Not pretty.  But, I see it as a shake up, a wake up.  The discomfort is motivating once I get unstuck from the inertia. 

Last night, I pulled a big armchair up in front of the fireplace and watched the flames being pulled up into the flue by the constant stormy wind which continued to gather momentum outside.  Each angry gust of cold winter air brought the gift of energy to the revel it shared with the flickering heat, whose fiery embers cradled the wood with snapping intensity.  It reminded me of two people dancing the tango.....their individual vitality is fuel for expressing the passion of belonging.

It is what we all strive for.... that feeling of contentment, the comfort of silent stillness in the middle of the dancing flames of belonging.  It's emotionally stirring.  It's a fulfilled longing to be a part of the activity.  Fire only breathes by the air it is fueled.  Our breath, our spirit is what fuels our internal fire.

What I have learned and absorbed from Father's O'Donohue's inspiring writings and beliefs is immeasurable when it comes to helping me regain my footing during times when turmoil swims inside me.  The depth of his faith fuels my own wavering faith.

For some reason, I am a believer when I immerse myself in his lyrical heartfelt writings.  I'm not so afraid.  I'm not so worried about the mystery of death.....of whether there is a Heaven.....of whether God will be there to greet me......of whether we get to live again in some capacity, our souls re-emerging from the clay he so often writes about.  His wisdom and the way he was able to articulate it has always felt like a lullaby to my contorted spirit.  His deep faith is believable, which in turn has allowed me to let go of my tightly held anxieties and believe too.  Unclenched, I have been able to breathe more easily knowing that I am guided by a higher power. 

I don't know why, but I didn't return to his books while I stumbled through this latest soul upheaval..... I should've.  Maybe I would've slept better.   However, maybe I needed to sit in the fear on my own again for a while in order to let go even more of it.....?  Doubt is a wake up call........it's just that you WAKE up and find yourself surrounded by mean shadowy fangs....... eeewwwwww!  It's like living in the middle of the Blair Witch forest!

Today is the anniversary of this beloved man's death.  It is beyond sad and I know many of his dear friends and family are thinking of him and wishing he was still amongst us.  Since the time I was introduced to his writing, I have been struck by the thought that there is no one else I can think of whom I regret not meeting face to face.  There is a bit of a mystery as to why he has touched me more deeply than any other author except one other....Jean Vanier.  Timing played a role.  I was ready and open to receive their messages.  I was ready to be a student again.  But, there's more to it than that.  It just seems like the way he expressed himself, so genuinely and with such conviction somehow touched upon a lost chord stuffed deep inside me; so deeply embedded I had forgotten it had even existed.  That lost chord of mine is tied to understanding where I belong and why.

We are seekers at heart, knowing that when a sense of inertia weighs us down and tugs at our awareness, it is time to recognize the growing discomfort.  Father O'Donohue wrote........ "Our bodies know they belong; it is our minds that make our lives so homeless."  For a while, my mind felt homeless again.  This morning, it feels like it is settling amongst the essential elements of life again.  It began to happen while reading the last of the correspondance between Globe and Mail journalist Ian Brown and Jean Vanier.   It seems serendiptously written, for it has touched me exactly where I needed to be touched.  It has settled my rumblings to some extent.  They wrote about life and death...the student and the mentor as friends. When I reach this paragraph, I could feel the ground beneath my feet again.

"We are not pure or impure spirits, floating on clouds of acclaim. We are flesh, grounded and rooted in the earth. We need sleep and rest, work, good food with friends and lots of pleasure. We need disappointments, because they foster hope and renewal. Of course we muse over death.

It is not an accident that we die. We enter the world in the fragility of a baby and later decline into the fragility of the old person we will become. Fragility means needing to cry out, “I need your help, I need your love, I need you.” Fragility forms bonds of togetherness, community, friendship and peace."

Fragility..... this is how I've felt.  The questions and inner rumblings I have struggled with left me with a sense of fragility.  But instead of being afraid of that feeling, I realized through Vanier's faith driven response to Ian Brown's questions about death, that perhaps I should look at it through a different lens..... If I am feeling this way, and taking the necessary step to admit it, express it, own it, then I become more open to the blessings of love and friendship all around me.  I become a fragile vessel.  Maybe that's what we learn the most when we are grieving the loss of a loved one.  Maybe thats what we learn the most when we are struggling with our own fears of mortality? 

After reading the article,  I sat with a stillness I havent felt in a long time.  Then,  I picked up John O'Donohue's Eternal Echoes again and felt a sense that I was visiting a friend face to face.  It felt like a homecoming.   It felt like I was returning to a mindset of belonging again. 
________________________________

Here's is a link to a Youtube video of John O'Donohue.  Enjoy....!!!

eros

when night stirs tangled secrets

my mystic smiles the blues

his soul seeps out of his knowing eyes

from the music others can't hear
and moves to the pulse of creation.

tangled sorrows wracked in parched emptiness
call out behind lonely shadows

of
desert wanderings leading to lost steps
frightened by illusions caught in the wind.

come, come.....join me, he entices...
Let me take you on an adventure
deep into the holy cavern of the heart.
where mysteries unravel in song and dance....
where comfort embraces vulnerable souls
where judgment holds no key
where touch heals.
touch heals.....
loving touch heals.

he wraps his arms around my sadness,
his gaze looks straight into my eyes
while I spin into the rhythm of this journey
where tears and laughter are one in the same

where love gestates 

and blossoms into the ability 

to see through that lens called beauty.

"If you fail to love, is it because you don't have enough? or - do you keep it all for yourself?"  This is the question posed by my emerald friend Pip.  Like many of his questions, both on his blog and on that oh so silly satirical place called facebook, where friends meet..... I was left pondering.  I can always count on Pip for a blink and a think.  Of course, it left me tangled up in additional questions...... like a good ponder should.  For anyone who fails to love, is it because they have never been invited to the holy bottom of the heart where beauty dwells?  Or is it because they've never been offered the map to this vulnerable island? 

Though we are all born with the ability to express our feelings, we all require guidance.  If we miss out, we are left standing off to the side of the road without a hope of finding our way.

All it takes is one human to hold out their hand to another human ........

To say out loud.....

You are a beautiful gift from God. 

The key is to help the person believe it... 

It's an unconditional thing isn't it? 

Fail to love?  Maybe temporarily. Everyone has an abundance to give. Sometimes life's stumbling grumbling messes clog the passageways with the belief that they don't deserve love, therefore they can't give it? Or maybe they've tried too many times and it was left untethered or worn out abused?  Whatever the story is behind the feeling of failure...... as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter.  When it comes to giving love, may we have the awareness to give it to the ones who feel like they don't know how to themselves......  without question.......

a walk around the block.....

When mornings are heated by the intensity of counselling sessions, a noon hour walk is a must.  It clears the old noggin, and allows me to lose myself a bit through the lens of my camera.  Somehow the very act of seeking out colours, lines, designs, angles with my own internal lens, I can draw out all that I'm withholding in my cluttered brain.  It helps me refocus for the afternoon portion of my job.  

I often feel like I travel many miles within the course of a day interacting with other individuals.  Sometimes it feels like a very bumpy road.... sometimes it feels like the trip takes no time.  Sometimes it is draining, filled with more rest stops than normal, just to catch one's breath. Many times, there is relief, progress, change, happiness, anger.... heart touching stuff, all of it.  

Broken and beautiful.......healed and stronger.

Travelling with another through snippets of their lives is always astonishing.... always a blessing.  It's a blessing because it doesn't happen if trust isn't established.  It doesn't happen unless a connection is made between the two of you.  To me, this is the most fulfilling type of travel I can think of.  To learn to walk a mile in someone else's shoes.  

When I'm involved in listening to someone's life story, I try my best to concentrate as much as I can.... in order to absorb the nuances and meaning behind what someone has decided to share.  Cues from the non verbal stuff feeds the intuitive nature of counselling.  As much as I love it, in order to continue on, I have to seek out balance..... I have to clear my head in order to be ready for another trip with someone........... 

A walk around the block with my camera companion is always the best way for me to find that balance again.......... that and a good cup of tea.   These chosen photos are my favourites from today's little jaunt under blue, blue November skies........

Travel is the photo theme over at Carmi's this week............for more travel shots, check out his blog.  You won't be disappointed.......... I always love that trip to Written Inc.

Little Rosie red shoes.....

Confident little Rosie
Her shoes a snappy red
Sailed happily into my office
With fifteen braids upon her head.
As she slurped and sipped her purple drink
Her eyes were big and green
Her smile as wide as a sideways moon
Dimples deeper than I’ve ever seen.

Charming poise…………

And as I chatted with her mom
In serious adult tones
Rosie displayed her creative side
With markers I had loaned.
She drew circles, lines and zigzags
And then a picture of herself
She folded them up in letters
And placed them on the shelf.

“For mailing!”

The happy pictures that she drew
Revealed nothing from real life
That her mom described emotionally
Details of violent family strife.
Yelling, hitting and accusations
Were the family norm
Until the day dad crossed the line
Creating a furious storm.

Black eyes of defeat……..

It woke her mom who had to act
To protect her children from more harm
They fled to a transition house
A place that’s safe and warm.
They started to heal and plan a life
Cocooned from harms way.
And throughout the constant upheaval
Rosie smiled throughout the day.

It was her job…………

Our conversation carried on
Her mom in need of care
Their lives were filled with turmoil
Under a continuous vicious glare
And when the talk grew too serious
Rosie lunged for the bright spotlight
Displaying resilient showmanship
Smiling with all her might.

Buoyant determination….

Rosie’s only “free and a half”
But she’s got important work to do
She’s decided it’s been left to her
To shield her mom from the blues
So, she dances, talks and acts upbeat
Our attention she demands
By drawing purple polka dots
On her chubby arms and hands.

Performing Arts……….

The absurdity of the moment
Was not lost on Mom nor I
We stopped and laughed at this little clown
Whose got a twinkle in her eye.
Adult conversation then led to distant hope
Of future dreams ahead
A calming equilibrium
Desired by all who still feel dread.

Toddler optimism…….

The adult talk began to cease
Time to venture out to the street
Rosie finished her last masterpiece
That she wanted me to keep.
I thanked her and asked for a hug
She exuberantly complied
I told her I wanted to take her home
She stopped me in my stride.

Enthusiastic embrace……….

A serious look crept on her face
As she snuggled on my lap
It was up to her to shield her mom
From more cruel mishaps
"My mom needs me," she said
"I have to go home with her
To look after her when she cries
And keep away the monster."

Toddler responsibilities……it’s her job.

When they are home alone at night
Violent demons start to prey
This family snuggles in one bed
Seeking safety ‘til the light of day
Soon one day they will gain the strength
To move forward without the fear
Sadly they’ll carry their wounds and scars
Underneath their brave veneer.

No one will ever know………

_____________________________________

This is the third "red" installment..... Rosie red...... for Carmi's photo theme this week.

I chose to republish this poem which I wrote after I met this resilient little girl and her mother a few years back. They had just finally escaped a seriously violent situation and were re-claiming peace and tranquility in their lives. Sadly, I don't think Rosie had ever known any other kind of life until then. Though I never saw this little one again, she remains in my heart. I often think of her and send good peaceful thoughts up into the air in hopes that they find her.

November is Family Violence Awareness month in New Brunswick. It still remains a silent killer inside the homes of many who live on our street, around the corner, across town..... inside the homes of human beings we may even work beside day in and out. Awareness is the key to eradicating abuse. No one has the right to abuse another human being. NO ONE.

lost in discovery.... always a good thing.

Yesterday, my daughter and I walked along a path through the woods together, both carrying our cameras. Everyone else was way ahead of us in no time. Knowing what we were up to, they left us to amble at our own pace.

As we
stopped and pondered....
visually framed and reframed....
found unique light and angles...
attempted to capture a feeling, a mood
enjoyed quiet peace,
we shared our growing interest in photography and nature.

Lost in discovery together.

What always amazes me is how a shared walk can look, feel and be experienced so differently. I guess it just depends on the lens you use to see through.

Tonight, Martha posted a few of her photos on her blog, from our walk through the woods up on Keswick Ridge. Her ability to capture a feeling..... a mood is a gift. Her ability to confidently design visual collages of life stories like its a simple thing to do always makes me smile. At age 16, Martha is finding her own path...... and it is a beautiful one indeed.

Please check out her blog and let her know what you think of the photos she chose to post. Though I am biased of course, I think you'll like them. Besides, we all know how much a little encouragement (besides from her parents!) has the potential to stretch beyond the horizon.....

thanks.

ps...the photo above was taken by a friend.

becoming an adult....

Pip in action:
Growth does not reside in a place called comfortable....

Time keeps marching on and i try my hardest to keep up. But honestly, how in the heck did 49 years pass by so quickly? The best we can do is to pack in as much living as possible and savour it to the fullest. Not just the big whopping mind blowing moments, though those tend to stick their necks out most predominantly and become our personal milestones.... but the day to day morning glories too.

This week has been a blur of activity.....from meeting and greeting 200 new students to the College, to sitting down one on one with a few who needed some reassurance during their transition back into the classroom, to kicking off a night course I'm teaching on Crisis Counselling, to organizing my own family and home for the beginning of the school year. There have been trips to the store for school supplies, a meet the teacher night tonight (I'm not impressed let me tell you with the caliber of teachers my son has this year.....but will wait on the final call on that one....) to dealing with incompetent bureaucratic systems to crashing on the couch last night in what was probably the most rivetting and important speech Obama has made since his inauguration. You know you're a tired puppy when you fall asleep sitting up while that guy is speechifying! It has been such a great week!!!

My life is full and i'm very happy. It is frantic at times, but I work best when I'm juggling many things at once. It energizes me and my brain cells. Too much down time and I become a unfocused slug. In the middle of the beautiful melee of living right smack dab in the centre of many fronts, I realized just how content I am. The only word I can use to describe it is "integrated...." That's how I feel. And the only way I managed to get there.... to a place where I'm firing on all cylinders again .... admittedly the first time in years, had all to do with 4 days at a racecourse in Cheltenham when I immersed myself in the Greenbelt festival. The late evening/early morning talks back at the hotel played a huge role in it too.

I knew I needed to get there. I didn't know why. I just knew my "want" had turned into a "need." I knew it was an integral part of whatever journey I am on. There were key "happenings" which I hope to be able to capture in words soon that in all honesty altered my thinking, my feelings.......and placed me on a different axis. A few important decisions were finally made. My outlook now shines from a better angle..... it simply happened after carrying them around for far too long. Enlightening, inspiring, challenging, and fun. It was also difficult. It was in the place of difficult where I grew the most. Not surprising.

Greenbelt was a destination that I thought had a beginning and an end. I was so wrong. The lessons I learned, the reflections I fell into, the moments I stayed right in the long now are a part of who I am and how I am seeing my life and the blur around me. There is a calm.....there is more patience. There is enthusiasm and less fretting. There has been a disconnection from the rubbish I had to endure over the past couple of years.

Pip sometimes asks on his blog..............How old were you when you became an adult? I thought I had already crossed that threshhold. I thought I had passed through the passages while experiencing the big whopping mind blowing moments. It wasn't until I was sitting alone outside of the Performance Cafe on the Saturday night listening to the music inside the tent, that I realized I had become an adult that day. Something clicked when I started to think about where I was physically and spiritually, where I had been, and letting go of where I may end up.

Becoming an adult, I realized was learning to let go of life's control panel, and to find a different kind of comfort in the vulnerable side of difficult. The only way you find that comfort zone is to recognize that letting go..... surrendering ...... can take you to a place where acceptance greets you with a nod. I may have been sitting there all alone, sitting off in the margins thinking about a very special "Greenbelt moment" that I had experienced earlier in the day, watching the Greenbelt world go by...........in fact a group of teens disguised as minstrels strolled by, stopped and then spontaneously sang the most movingly upbeat version of Amazing Grace I had ever heard....... there was a feeling of infinite possibility in the night air.

Today........I turn 49. Today, I think I can confidently state that I'm finally an adult. Better late than never eh? Man, that was a long adolescence!

CISV, Children's International Summer Villages....

Quiet on the home front. Earlier this evening, a group consisting of three young adults and three young at heart adults gathered in my livingroom to share their thoughts and feelings about a thing called "Seminar Camp...." It is one of the kinds of "camps" associated with an organization called CISV (Children's Internation Summer Villages). Two of the young adults had just returned from a 3 week Seminar Camp in Mexico City. The other young woman took part in one in Amsterdam a couple of years ago. The program is designed for interested 17 and 18 year olds from around the world to come to live together, to connect, interact, discuss, debate, laugh, cry, dance, and basically figure it out. It's kind of like a multi-cultural "Big Brother" except that no one gets voted off the island, and its not filmed.

Participants plan their activities, make their own meals, facilitate the day, take turns leading and take turns following. They learn about other's opinions, how to listen, how to express themselves........ how cultures are different and how human beings are the same. It's a small manageable model of a global village, which promotes the open goodness of equality, human rights, independent thought.....

As far as I'm concerned every single 17 year old should have a chance to learn this way. And from what I heard tonight, the 3 week experience has the potential to be life changing at an age when there is such a desire to delve into the big moral questions..... at a time when personal values and life directions/options are shuffling as fast as a card dealer. Meeting and sharing deeply, thrown into a place of discomfort at the beginning where one's opinions are challenged, where secrets and new ideas are thrown out into the circle for consideration, contemplation, reflection, introspection.

CISV has become an important and very special organization for my family and I this year, and will continue to be front and centre from here on in, I imagine. We had heard of CISV through our friends when their children got involved and knew that the local chapter was very active due for the most part by one passionate woman. There are a variety of programs offered for all different ages, but was initially created by a another very passionate woman named Doris Allen, after World War 2 (yes, it's been around that long) who wanted to create a program that would promote cultural awareness and peace. Doris decided that the best age to promote these key values was 11 years old. At that age, they were still receptive to differences and similarities. Keen to learn and make new friends, 11 year olds were chosen as future "ambassadours of promoting peace on earth.

So, she started up a thing called a "village" and began to bring together 11 year olds to live in together multi-culturally for a month. Since then, it has taken off and other programs for all ages have evolved right around the world The purpose of the village for 11 year olds is to learn about one another by sharing of themselves and various characteristics of their home country. The real underlying SOUL purpose is to make friends.....lasting friendships with people from all over the world.

This time last year, my son began expressing his interest in attending a CISV Village. He had learned about it from friends at school and through our family friends whose children had attended Villages at age 11. Max is a keener when it comes to geography and history. Politics, which is a topic of discussion in this house came to life for him as he followed Obama's rise to Presidency. Ever since he was very young, he has asked a bazillion questions about countries, cities, capitals, flags, mountain ranges, oceans........ a large map of the world adorns one of his bedroom walls.

His interest in learning about other countries was flamed considerably by his Grade 5 teacher who orchestrated a year long project on Africa which included numerous interactive presentations ranging from music to poverty to topography. Because of his unflinching focus on all things CISV, this whole family began to take notice. We began to get involved. Throughout the last year, both of my children took part in various "mini-camps" run over winter weekends.... 25-30 kids, ages ranging from 10 to 25 came together for songs, games, discussions, learning, growing and becoming more aware of the issues and the need for global unity.... through peace and goodwill.

Last spring, when the "camp lists" were decided upon (ie. which ones the Fredericton chapter were invited to and would send delegates) both of my children put their names forward. My daughter, caught in a personal conundrum of applying for a summer camp for 15 year olds in Madrid or pursuing her original plan of applying to be a Counsellor in Training, finally chose the CIT route.......perfect choice for her at this point in her life. She is loving it.

Max, pushed forward and applied to be a delegate. He was interviewed by a parent whose own daughter had attended the year before, and had to explain exactly why he wanted to be a part of it. We were both so impressed with how much thought he had put into it, how he prepared his answers......made much easier because it came from his heart.

Well, he was chosen and will be one of 4 kids who will represent Fredericton and Canada at a 4 week CISV Village in Costa Rica (accompanied by a leader who is AMAZING btw). It takes place at the end of December. Our attention and fundraising efforts will support Max as he steps beyond his bedroom full of maps, sports paraphenalia and posters of Obama, towards a life opportunity that will most likely help mold his thoughts and feelings and actions as a member of this crazy world we live in. We are all so excited for him..... and he is beyond the MOON excited.

And as for the meeting tonight in my living room? Fredericton has been chosen as a CISV Seminar Camp for the summer of 2010. When they were looking for a volunteer to coordinate the planning of it, I found that my hand went up. Badabing! As much as I would LOVE to run the day to day show next summer...........to be the coach and facilitator, my role is to set it all up and get them all there...... I'm psyched.

This is one organization I am very interested in becoming involved in. If you have any interest, or think your children would, I highly reccomend that you google CISV and learn more about it............find out if there is a chapter near you.


ps. The photo was taken on the site of the camp. I have a feeling there will be many heartfelt conversations that will happen exactly on that spot.....

magic and loss

When you pass through the fire

you pass through humble

You pass through a maze of self doubt

When you pass through humble

the lights can blind you

Some people never figure that out.

You pass through arrogance, you pass through hurt

You pass through the ever present past

and its best not to wait for the luck to save you

Pass through the fire to the light.

As you pass through the fire

your right hand waving

there are things you have to throw out

That caustic dread in your head

will never help you out.

You have to be very strong

'cause you start from zero

over and over again

As the smoke clears

there's an all consuming fire

lying straight ahead.

They say no one person can do it all

but you want to in your head

But you can't be Joyce

So what is left instead

You're stuck with yourself

and a rage that can hurt you

You have to start at the beginning again.

And just this moment

This wonderful fire starts up again.

When you pass through humble

when you pass through sickly

when you pass through

I'm better than you all

When you pass through anger and self deprecation

and have the strength to acknowledge it all

When the past makes you laugh

and you can savour the magic

that let you survive your own war

You find the fire is passion

and there's a door up ahead, not a wall.

As you pass through the fire

as you pass through the fire

trying to remember its name

when you pass through the fire licking at your lips

you cannot remain the same

And if the building's burning move towards that door

but don't put the flames out

There's a bit of magic in everything

and some loss to even things out

.......some loss to even things out

Lou Reed

I think Lou Reed was painted with the lyrical poetic brush similar to the one God used on Leonard Cohen. I think God left behind the paint brushes for them to be used as the implements for capturing their creative song spirits so visually and viscerally. While I'm thinking about this....another songwriting alleyway observer fits in with these two....gravel voice and all. Mr. Waits.

Now thats a trinity!

soulmates

(dawn's early light...the view from my backdeck, june 8, 2009)

It happens in a flash

when you're least expecting it,

under sleepy eyes opening

to draw in a dawning of something very special.

In a blink,

two flames merge

channeling into one spirit

of effortless honesty and mutual understanding.

Soulmates....

move to a rhythm of blending lifetimes

and form from a mixture of tears and clay.

Simple yet deeply eternal

Clear yet vibrantly profound

Effortless yet energetically alive

Comforting yet soulfully emotional.

Pleasing yet discomfortably stretching.

Surprising yet divinely meant to be.

Spiritual beyond reason.

Rare beyond a dream come true.

Anything is possible when fate alights

like catching a firefly on a winter night.

When you encounter your soulmate, its like tasting mountain spring water from their cupped hands after a long walk alone in the high altitude. You have no idea where they have come from, but they arrive under a clear blue sky when there is a mutual need to quench each other's thirst.

this week's Sunday Scribblings (yeah I'm late....) is Soulmate..... For more kindred interpretations, check out their blog.

milk and cookies

In a world where chaos is the order of the day, when honking horns and blinking lights penetrate our overcharged senses, when even existing within the ordinary realm of life at normal speed seems to gyrate our inner core, the very idea of a lullaby can help soothe and comfort. When fear grabs hold of our air passages, when adrenaline sends trickles past impossibility, when we find ourselves gagging over what is expected of us only to trip over one regret after another, a lullaby can spread new tendrils of hope towards a better way.

Consider the feelings wrapped in the motion of a lullaby. Say the word aloud.... it sings on its own from your curled tongue and kissed lips like a soft welcoming whisper spoken by someone who cares.

Calm, secure, reassuring...... you are loved.

Not all lullabies are expressed in the form of a song or poem. They are multi-sensory in nature.....even the pouring rain can offer solace if you want it too. The rhythmic rocking of the subway home has a reassuring feel to it after a long day in the city. The trickling of the brook, an afternoon breeze, the sound of a sleeping dog, the purr of a cat.

Visually we can step into its beauty when we appreciate the expansive sky, a garden of blooms, a canvas splashed with watercolour glory, a mantel dressed in a multitude of candles flickering in the night. The familiarity of lavender essence, baby powder, the aroma of coffee perking in the morning, cinnamon buns in the oven, the smoke from a campfire. The taste of a cold glass of milk and chocolate chips cookies freshly baked, a sip of cointreau to warm your lips and throat, an ice cold beer after a long hot sweaty day working hard, vine picked sun warmed ripe strawberries bursting in your mouth.

We seek comfort in the simple gifts....all are lullabies when our mental health is flooded by panic and stress. Close your eyes....think of your lullabies.....picture the place where you can go to feel the healing goodness of your sanctuary.

A hug, a touch, an I love you so much........

hush, hush, hush.....

____________________________

Comfort Inside of a Lullaby

unsmiling spirits follow you around
their voices shriek a horrible sound.
faded glories and dreams rush quickly by
seek comfort inside of a lullaby.

loneliness echos from a rumpled bed
sleepless nights keep company instead
used up air filled with uneven sighs
come inside the comfort of a lullaby

worries need gathering, hung out to air
rock to the rhythm of an ancient prayer
unsmiling troubles will soon say goodbye
when you find comfort inside of a lullaby.

hush all the stirring, let your sleepy head rest
there's light to guide you back to your nest
soft voices to cradle, to soothe away cries
come inside the comfort of a lullaby

hush, hush, hush......