give us this day.......

Have you ever stopped at the end of the day when nighttime chimes its call to slumber and asked... Why was I given this day?  Tonight, as I try to answer, my mind seeks out a beginning point only to find a series of other questions rolling out of the original one.... 

What seeds did I plant?

What seeds did I sow?

Who touched me with their presence, both in person and from afar? 

Whom did I touch? 

Learning....what did I learn? Was I able to pass on any of my knowledge?

If I could capture the essence of feelings that accompanied me today, what colour would they be?

Who did I remember?

What did I do and how did I feel while I was doing it?

From one seemingly simple question, a plush red carpet rolls out of my reflections revealing more to consider.  Each one offers a gift of a deeper look into the day I was given as a gift.   In prayer, we request from God,  "give us this day our daily bread...." sustenance to thrive on.  We request this.  Upon reflection we can assess how we utilized this gift of days we are given that make up our lives.   

Did I stop.........just once to look around me ..... to see the beauty of my surroundings?

Where did I find the beauty?

Did I stop ... just once to look around me ..... to see the woundedness in my surroundings?

What shocked my senses?

When did I laugh?  

Did I reveal frustration, anger, confusion or did I stuff it inside because no one wants to see those big time uglies.  

Did I allow someone else to express the uglies, to help them rid them? 

What did I create today? 

How did I stretch my imagination?

How did I challenge my sensibilities?

What made me uncomfortable? 

Who was with me in spirit helping to guide me at some point today?

Did loneliness come to visit?

Why was I given this day......?

Was I kind to someone?

Did I scatter more seeds than I sowed?

So many of our days, we push through the 24 hour cycle like our lives are situated on top of a treadmill, our pace the same, our steps the same in order to keep going, keep balanced.  Maybe we need sameness because our lives are just too startling and stressful at the moment.  Just to "get through" them is a feat.  Maybe we dread stopping for fear of being accosted by the stark realities burdening our hearts, weighing heavily on our shoulders.  Maybe we skip through a day with a madness of last minute shopping before Christmas and forget that its the joy of giving, the satisfaction of finding just the right gift for someone we love not the completion of the never ending list of "to do's" that matters.  Some days seem so lacking in any stimulation that you feel like you've lived it over and over again. 

I'm left wondering if perhaps these are the kinds of days when asking the question...... Why was I given this day ...... matters the most?

Ask the question, the treadmill stops.  Ask the question and the opportunity to nurture the startling stress with attention happens.  Ask the question and the burdens are acknowledged and greeted by awareness.   Ask the question and that omnipresent fear of being alone is filled with the real connections you made with others......... face to face, over the phone, through an email, on facebook, at the store, passing someone in the street, at work, in the classroom, out in the parking lot, in your mind's eye. 

Did you know that there are at least 3 people out in the big old world who not only thought of you, but love you too.  You may not get to see them every single day, but they are out there rooting for you!  Cheering you on!

Ask the question to God?  "Why was I given this day God?"   He's a good sounding board.  However, chances are like a good therapist (the ultimate therapy dude, really) God will reflect the question back for you to answer.  "You tell me.... Why did I give you this day,"  He asks...... and you're left figuring it out, with His supportive touch guiding you through the perplexities any opened ended question promotes. 

Before the darkness around you folds into your own internal quiet lights out, let your dreams evolve from the abundance of silent reflections.  Let your day flow into the refreshing slumber with your gaze be filtered by a sense of resolution. No matter how difficult or trying it was, it can be transformed from an ordinary day on a treadmill to one that actually mattered because of the gifts you gave and received yourself.  

I may never have all the answers I want by the time I'm sound asleep....... sometimes the questions keep me up way after my bedtime and that's alright.  What I do know is that if I take the time to ponder, even the most wretched day holds a few gems.  And if I know I have a handful of gems, it seems to make the struggles all the worthwhile.

So, tonight I ponder, and peak into the wildness of my broad question.......  "Why was I given this day?"  To fill with as much life as I could..........with as much colour as i could.  And I believe I accomplished just that.....

Now its time to dream........of you.  Why?  Because you are with me every day.... in my actions, in my feelings, in my imagination, and in my soul.  You.  And I thank you for sharing this bountiful life with me.  Little did you know, but you eased my suffering, added to my joy, challenged and stretched my abilities.  It was you and the connection I have with you that turned this ordinary day into a recognized bouquet of blessings.

 

stern your own canoe

"Take time to accept responsibility. Your life is exactly that - It's your life. It is created by you. You are constantly making choices, constantly creating new experiences. And although we can be affected by circumstances which can seem to be completely out of our control, essentially, we decide the direction in which we walk."

Nicolas Watkins

If ever there was an activity that automatically brings me peace, its canoeing.  Even if I'm in rough currents, I still have a sense of the divine resonating inside me.  Though I RARELY get out for a real paddle, and by GOD I'm going to this summer, even the visualization of paddling can soothe the savages that rage inside me. The pictures, the stories, the memories are real and at my mind fingertips whenever I need to "go there."  I think living by the Saint John river and being able to see it every single day has been the source of keeping the internal pictures alive and fresh.

I remember times when I floated along the shores, through the lily pads and lake grass enjoying the water spiders and little fish quietly living their lives. I have found the strength to take deep plunges with my paddle, to fight off the north winds as I cascaded over white caps trying to make it across the lake to a calmer locale. 

I have laid back against the thwarts and looked up into the sky allowing the canoe to drift along the currents. I have sat in wonder under a midnight blue canvas shimmering in starlights without any city lights to tarnish its splendour.  Using my own body strength I have tramped through mosquito ridden woods portaging while leading a group of teens to do the same......... to get to another lake beyond the roads. It was always, always worth the pain and sweat of the portage to get that first glimpse of a pristine lake void of any cottages or motor boats.

For many summers, I taught children how to find their own way using a paddle and a chestnut canoe.  I still smile broadly when I think of it of those times.   One spring, it was my job to teach a bunch of city kid neophytes, who had never set foot outside of their concrete neighbourhoods let alone slept in cabins, or seen a pristine lake surrounded by pine and the beautiful rock of the Canadian Shield all the basics of canoeing.  I would have the group for the morning...........on the docks, close to the beach........ practising.  Just before lunch, we'd pack the canoes and set OFF across the lake to an island where we would set up camp for lunch.  

There, I showed them how to make a good campfire. We'd cook our lunch together and then I'd show them how to use a reflector oven and we'd bake a cake for dessert.  They thought that was magical.  In the afternoons, we'd go exploring........... all around the lake.  And as we went, we'd sing songs, share stories and get to know one another.  Most importantly, we'd make sure that the strength of the group carried us all, even if there was someone with us who struggled to keep up.

The look of fatigue AND accomplishment on these kids faces at the end of the day was brilliant!  I'll never forget it.  These little anklebiter city kids had done something FAR beyond their own reality horizons and it shifted them. To be able to say.... "I did that" can stretch into "I can do that......."  and beyond to "I will try that........."  It was a beautiful lesson in the creating choices and making them.  For yourself.  By yourself.

My canoe now is more or less a metaphor.  I don't own one. I want one, and maybe it will happen soon.

Across the water......... dip, dip and swing.

My days sterning a canoe used to mostly be in familiar waters.  Every now and then, I'd branch out........like I did when I flew across the big blue pond to attend the Greenbelt Festival on my own last year.  Even with that, I had a pretty good inkling of what to expect (though definitely not the whole picture.... much of it was a mystery) and I had familiar friendly faces to greet me..... 

When I look at the paddling I've been doing, some of which feels like going upriver WITHOUT a paddle, I see how I am still sterning.  It's just takes a little more energy, a little more intensity.  On the other hand, I have also learned that sometimes its a good thing to surrender that spot in the canoe to allow another to stern, while kneel in the bow to look out for those standing waves and dead heads.  I've done both this spring........ with the help of friends and family.  With the help of God.


Usually, I know which inlet I'm visiting. I am aware of the weather up ahead. I can find the right harbour, the best shore, the sturdy dock. Familiarity allows for this. Familiarity allows for us to have the feeling that we can paddle solo......that we can do it alone. But, I'm wondering if familiarity also generates doubt which perpetuates desire to tackle something new? We get settled in the same canoe, on the same lake, looking at the same inlets. The seasons come and go, the winds come and go........ all predictably familiar. Which is nice, if you're completely and utterly content.

And if you are.........completely and utterly content...............go with it........more power to you.....rock on.......... just watch out for those nasty snapping turtles, oh and the driftwood.....oh, and watch out for the changing water levels, where all of a sudden, the familiar lake alters it's vista and you're left grounded on a new sandbar with a stick puncturing your beloved canoe.

Yeah, familiarity...............a facade, isn't it, with contentment as a trap?

Today, I headed over to what looks like an inlet from afar, but as you get closer, you can see it's really the beginning of a tributary feeding into another lake. It's the other lake where I have heard has a couple of beautiful campgrounds to check out. It is where my next destination lies. I know this lake, but not as well, so have decided to ask for directions, to ask for help with the navigating.

Help, I pray ........ will you please help me? I asked.......... these are not words I often spout because I'm normally comfortable soloing. I'm normally the navigator for others. But, today I asked someone whom I know clearly has a big picture of the lay of the land and lake..........

His answer?

"Yes, I would love to help you. But, I don't want you to settle for something you're not completely excited about. I want you to be picky about your destination. And while I'm helping you, I want you to plant as many seeds as you can along the way........."

Our lives are created by us, as noted in the quote........but we should never be afraid to check out new vistas, to pass up familiarity and more importantly to ask for help in the paddling to a new destination.

Think I've just pushed off from the shore.....it may be a longer paddle than I anticipate because, well I'm not going to settle for the first campground I check out.....it takes time.......but I have help. We all do. I don't have to navigate alone.  And for that reason, when I look up into the blue heavens above, my prayer will always and forever be....

"Thank you........"

wilderness....

"The soul is full of wanderlust. When we suppress the longing to wander in the inner landscapes, something dies within us. The soul and spirit are wanderers; their place of origin and destination remain unknown; they are dedicated to the discovery of what is unknown and strange."

John O'Donohue, Eternal Echoes

Frightening, the inner wilderness...it's easier to stay within the confines of the flock and not venture beyond the wire fence..... to wander through wonder.  It's risky and full of unexplored territory.  It can tip you off balance, and leave you without the ability to read the map.   A kindred friend wrote this about seeking out the mystery which only a journey into the wilderness can offer.....  As always, he made me think in a smiling sort of way..... (and miss the thoughts and feelings he used to share on his blog....)

"It was John Muir, that patron saint of the great outdoors, who stated that, ‘in wilderness lies the hope of the world.’ And if we understand that everything within God’s creation is connected to everything else, then this isn’t some romantic vision, but a prophetic word providing a legacy for a deep spirituality available to us all.

The truth is that the great religions of the World have always been nourished in the Wilderness."

We are innate seekers, introspectively and outwardly.  Deep in our bones is the drive to explore, to seek out new horizons in an attempt to find answers, to challenge our sensibilities, to stretch beyond our boundaries, to broaden our visibility.  We are home bodies too..........in need of reassurance every now and then that we belong to a flock, especially during those times in our lives when our knees weaken from wavering confidence.

It seems to me that this time of year, our wandering needs heighten as we contemplate a deeper understanding of the connections we have with the wilderness around us and in us.  It's much easier to do when you know you have a "home" to return to.  It might be easier, but is it  necessary?
I used to belong to one ..... one with walls and a steeple, with a pulpit and pews.... with a bell that would ring the call of worship.  For now, I wander.  I'm in the wild, with a picture in my mind of what a new home would feel  and look like.  It's a good place for me to be.   And you know what?  I keep bumping into people I know. That certainly makes it easier and much more fun.

soulspace.....part one....

In a tent called Hebron on Saturday morning, I met two women attending the Greenbelt Festival together. We spoke briefly but somehow managed to step deeply into a place where empathy resides. We understood one another. Good thing since it was empathy we were supposed to be talking about!

One woman openly admitted to how tired she was. Bone tired. Depleted. She felt she had no more empathy to give. As a Pastor, she had given up her last ounce of caring. 7 funerals in quick succession, she oversaw the grief of many. As a wife of a husband who is disabled, she had stretched herself beyond love. Her soul was parched. Her eyes were swimming in unfallen tears, ready to spill down her drawn face.

Her goal in attending a "talk" at Greenbelt on Empathy was to gather information in order to be a better Minister. It was supposed to be a cerebral exercise. Instead, it became a personal need...a heart and soul experience. I said...... "I think you're here to fill your own boots......Put aside your original goal. Spend the weekend filling your own boots.... You know what they say about putting on the oxygen mask on a plane? You put your own on first before you try to help another."

The other woman agreed, and encouraged her friend to look after herself .... to seek what she needed at Greenbelt, not what others may learn from her. Her tears fell..........she smiled. I could sense relief. This caring, giving, strong willed woman was given permission to let go. To soften.

As she softened, I realized why my need to attend Greenbelt was so strong. It was like a lightbulb went on inside my head. I was there to fill my own boots....er, I mean wellies... :) Sometimes its easier to see it in others before you can recognize it in yourself. And when you take a step into a conversation beyond the surface chatter, there's a pretty good chance you will glean insight into your own stuff.

Whatever triggers us to a point where we engage heart to heart with someone is more often than not tied to where we are personally. Does that make sense?? In other words, our ability to understand where someone else is emotionally comes from a place of where we are emotionally. Humans mirror one another. We may have very different set of circumstances and struggles, our thinking brains may be wired differently, but we always connect at an emotionally spiritual level because we share the same bag of feelings.

Looking into the teary eyes of this woman, I was touched. I found myself transported to a place to where self awareness sits waiting to be discovered. I could see it happening in her as well. Whoa. One split second look into each others eyes linked us to a place of understanding one another's needs. They were the same..... Strangers.....and then in one brief moment of sharing in a tent called Hebron? Empathy kicked in and took us to a shared nod of knowing. While this was happening in the moment, my thoughts quickly linked to what had been described to me by Pip and Paul as a "Greenbelt moment...." It was one of many that day and it wasn't until I returned home that I saw the synchronicity of them. Kind of spooky really...........but SO affirming.

Then, it was her turn.....she asked me if I had been to Soulspace.

"Soulspace.....? No, I havent....I don't even know what it is."

She described a setting they had found the night before, situated on the fifth level of the Cheltenham Racecourse grandstand. Not only did it offer an amazing view of the whole area.....the valley where the campsites, venues and tents were located and the beautiful rolling hills which surrounded it, it offered a sanctuary....a place to find quiet.

My new friends shared with me how deeply moving it was to walk into Soulspace, tired and dragged out from life knocking the wind out of you, and feeling a sense of sacredness. I could see just how this place had impacted them. Their smiles told me. I could hear it too..... there was a feeling of whispered reverence, of awe in their voices. I learned how emotionally uplifting it was for them in a surprising way when they admitted that it had moved them to tears. Just by describing the setting, I could FEEL the oxygen filling them up with fresh air. They encouraged me to go........ go on up to Soulspace.

We left the Hebron tent together, but quickly said our goodbyes and wished one another well. And for the first time in the two days I had been there, I felt very alone in a sea of people. The crowds had boosted to 20,000 people, and I only knew a handful, all of whom were busy volunteering and connecting with their old Greenbelt friends. I also felt extremely tired. Two "wee hours" gatherings , and a few earlier in the week and my energy felt depleted. I think the combination of being overwhelmed by the fact that when I looked out at everyone passing by I saw unfamiliar faces.... no one I recognized at all..... and the fact that I was tired, I kind of lost my footing at that point. I began to wander, unable to make a decision as to what I wanted to take in next.

I walked....grabbed a tea and a toasted sandwich (comfort food) and continued an seemingly aimless trek, in and out of venues with displays that were thought provoking, disturbing, welcoming, interesting...... I didn't talk to anyone. I could've, but I didn't have the confidence to put myself out there at that particular time. So, I stayed within myself. And what I heard as I wandered was the word...... soulspace. I must've heard it uttered 10 times in the course of two hours....

Soulspace.....people were talking about this place...... whether they had been there or not, I didn't know. But, it was entering the collective awareness of the Festival. The more I heard the word uttered the more it felt mysteriously alluring. Who doesn 't like a good mystery to stir one's curiosity?? But, it also made me skeptical. It was so meaningful to those two women I had met..... what if I went there and I didn't feel the same? Or worse, what if it brought up too many emotions and I would lose any semblance of control I had?

What if Soulspace ended up being some new age thing that didn't sit with my personal beliefs? And did I really want to feel as deeply as they did? It's a vulnerable place to go when you allow yourself to be that open spiritually. I continued to wander and wonder, "stuck in a moment," unwillingly to "go there" with my feelings tucked so gingerly under my skin.

I watched a group drumming.....and was so moved by a young man whose body was impacted by cerebral palsy, whose smile was as wide as JOY can be. His father was holding the drum.... this young man, included in the drumming circle with full love and belonging, banged on his drum as best that he could. Ah..... beautiful..... He reminded me so much of the kids and teens I used to work with at the Rehab centre so many years ago.... he was familiar even though I didnt know him personally.

I moved on...... and found myself lured into the music of Kadialy Kouyate who was performing from the Grandstand stage.... Tired and pulled into the sound I found a spot on the grass off to the side of the stage, and laid down to listen to his beautiful music. Families and groups of friends were all around me. I still felt all alone, but I was relaxed and ready to listen. (It wasn't until that night when Pip and I realized we were both at the same concert and both enjoyed it immensely.... I should've known he wasn't too far away. :) )

The only way I can think of describing where I was emotionally while surrounded by a sea of people was in a place outside of the margins. I chose to be there. I could've easily jumped into a variety of events or a conversation. I could've PUT myself into the middle of fellowship, but I didn't seem to have the energy,. Too many late nights in a row had caught up to me. Strangely, I was alright with that. I kind of knew I should just be..... What was niggling at me was my aversion to finding this Soulspace place. It wasn't until I was so spent (low ebb energy for me kicks in around 3pm most days .... I AM a morning person). that I finally decided to seek out this mysterious place that seemed to be haunting my thinking, that could possibly be a place to really rest. So, around that time, I decided I needed to find a place to close my eyes. I set out to find Soulspace on the top floor of the Grandstand....

5 flights of stairs... I climbed, still unsure as to what I was about to find. or how it would make me FEEL. I was winded by the time I reached the doors to the lobby area and wondering if I really would feel a sense of welcome and respite. However, when I opened the doors my eyes alighted on two familiar women who were sitting with their backs to me looking out the window quietly. They were the only two people in the lobby. I couldn't believe it! There they were!!!

Smiling, I walked up behind them, put my hands on their shoulders lightly and said..............

" You know, I think Heaven is easier to find than Soulspace......"

With that, my two new friends whom I had met in the tent called Hebron leapt to their feet and gave me the most amazing group hug.

"YOU made it! " they said.

One of them said.........."you're our soulsister! How amazing that you arrived here at the same time that we are here too. We just spent an hour sitting quietly in there and it was just the right medicine for our tired souls...."

And the other woman........ the Pastor who admitted earlier in the day that she was drained of all empathy? She put her hands on my arms, turned me around and said.... "Go on in. You will love it. Go on in and fill your boots....."

With that, I tentatively turned towards the door with a full heart connection to these women...... and decided to find out just what this Soulspace was all about.

More to come...... :)

a privileged punter on a pilgrimmage at the Greenbelt Festival.

On many levels, the Greenbelt Festival felt like a reunion even though I had never attended the festival before or travelled in this area of the UK. Most of the people I had the heartwarming pleasure to have connected with, I met there for the first time. It should've felt more like a crashing of a party....of feeling like an outside observer. Instead, there was a sense of homecoming the moment I met up with Pip and together joined a group of like minded people, veterans and devoted Greenbelters for dinner the night before the event.

Perhaps because I had read so much about it, captured in emotional descriptives and pictures on websites and on friends' blogs.....people I had always felt a kinship to, there was a sense of homecoming to a place of familiarity. One of the most comforting observations shared with me on the Friday morning during a walk through the site before the festival even began was that I fit right in. Thank you my Harbour friend for settling me in and sharing your beloved place. Your smiling kindness and words reinforced the driving intuition I had internally maintained whenever I pictured myself there. Deep down, right to my toes, I knew this odd little misfit me would fit. Your kindheart helped me feel this right from the start.

Greenbelt is an experience unique to every single individual who attended. Given the vast array of options, no two people would've walked away from the Festival with the same pocket of souvenir moments. 20,000 hearts and minds arrived, ready to take part in the feast on some level, and left with their own personal perspectives, their own "Greenbelt moments..."

Our eyes, ears, hearts and minds may have the fundamental sameness to their functionality, but are wired so very differently because of personal needs and interests. How we were touched, what we reached out to touch and most strikingly what we tasted in an attempt to quench our particular thirsts was uniquely blended. Then, there was a level of kinship, a place set in the twinkle of eyes and in the upward curve of smiles where two festival goers met.....it was a bonding place of knowing and understanding. It was also an sole pilgrimage amongst a sea of others.

Since returning home, I have tried to describe what it was like, what it meant, what impressions were left on me, how it impacted my thinking and how it seeped into my feelings and it seems to me that every single explanation has been different. It's like I settle into an angle of repose only to have another handful of sand added to my positioning. And I am moved again. My perspective changes within the shifting sands inside me.

Despite that, there were moments which took me up beyond the concreteness of what I can put into mere words that are as crystal clear to me as the brightest star in the night sky but whether I will ever be able to lasso them for others to understand remains a mystery. Breath takingly thin feelings too delicate to touch with worn hands need to be nurtured and handled with care. Those moments .... the thin air ones, however were the key to being able to say to any other Greenbelter..... I get it. I totally get it. I have been moved forever.

This morning, I sit here still wrapped in many layers of contemplation because of having the privilege of attending Greenbelt and meeting so many beautiful people, many of whom touched me with their kindness and interest, and with their ability to share some of their selves with me.....good deep stuff. Sometimes it happened late at night after a long day experiencing so many feelings during the events or simply walking around the site. Sometimes it happened with strangers whom I met at a talk or in line waiting for the next concert.

But, when I stop all other thoughts and focus on the heart of my experience at Greenbelt, I picture myself standing amongst new friends who welcomed me into their space and kept an eye on this punter on a pilgrimmage at the back of the Performance Cafe, feeling loved and included. No matter how busy they were volunteering and creating a space so welcoming for so many, I was always, always greeted with interest and enthusiasm. Sarah, Katie, Anderson, Roger and Paul..... you are all angels for giving me a place to catch my breath as well as to have it taken away. xx Thank you.

Greenbelt is a sense of belonging like no other......... I feel blessed to have experienced it through my own ever changing lens..... my gaze is beautiful.

"as you think, so ye shall be...."

"If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavours to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in the common hours."

Thoreau

There is an intuitive place where thinking and feeling find one another and form a moment of unexpected focus. No words can match this "felt sense..." Instead, what you're left with is a vision........a picture or a symbol representing a personal dream or an obstacle in the way of fulfilling that dream. And if you were to take that initial vision a few steps beyond, it just may lead you to a vista beyond the line in the horizon.........to a place where the panoramic view is unlimited.

Our thoughts always seem to have boundaries........or perhaps it is just our inhibitions getting in the way of broadening the possibility of where our imagination can take us. We continue to step in a patterned mode, continuously repeating the same moves, the same actions even if we languish in a spiral going nowhere. Why? Because its comfortable. We are comfort seekers rather than wilderness seekers. Despite our awareness of what our needs are, or what our dreams look like, we rest easy within the confines of our bordered thinking....

Jesus said......."As you think, so ye shall be............"

Hidden potential.......what is yours? What are the changes and challenges which block you from responding to your gifts? What are you willing to do in order to reveal your hidden potential...in order to dream big? What do you need to nurture in order to move into the direction of what it is you want? How do we feed our thoughts with the passion we so often withold?

When was the last time you allowed your thinking to blend with your feelings to stretch yourself beyond the boundaries you have purposefully set up to protect yourself from escaping the tame and embracing the wild side? When we allow ourselves to focus on this type of travel, we experience the "felt sensing" moment where wisdom taps us on the temple.... where we transform into a spiritual being having a human experience.

Transformation......such a loaded word isn't it? I used to think it was an stand alone event which happened to some people connected to their religion and church. What i realize now is that transformation is an evolutionary process which may or may not be formalized through organized religion. It's a lifelong unfurling of personal growth and not a true destination endpoint. It is the type of journey which allows one to move beyond the boundaries of our defined self, of our form to advance beyond what we already know to meet, as Thoreau describes...."a success unexpected in common hours."

Eternal, infinite and life changing...this is what transformation is all about. If you are willing to be open to going beyond the original field of dreams and focusing on the place inside where the merging happens, you just never know where your intuitive nature will lead you....to a place of discomfort. To a place where uncertainty feels like your life undressed. To a place where the words are few but the dreams are open ended.....

*my thoughts after a great visioning day with the new team....***

religion and curiosity = religiosity?

Am I religious? What does that mean?

I don't attend church regularly. But I try to be attentive in the living of my life.

I stumble on the words of most prayers I should probably know off by heart. But I've learned that prayer is really the unfolding of our thoughts and actions as I try to be attentive in the living of my life.

I know the tunes of the more well known hymns sung during times of worship. But, I know have learned that there are many songs and pieces of music which are not found within the traditional scripts played out in church but touch the soul as deeply.

I was baptised as a young child and confirmed and welcomed into a church as an adolescent. But, I have wrestled with my doubts and disbeliefs, my personal dismissal of faith only to see it return in a different more flexible form.

There have been moments in my life when I have been lifted in spirit while listening to a choir, or absorbing the message and flow of a moving sermon. Tears have fallen watching the joy of two people going through the beautiful ritual of matrimony, or seeing a baby being baptised.

I have been touched deeply by sacremental communion.

Stopped in my tracks, I have felt the stillness of being surrounded by the tall pine dappled in morning sunlight.

I have watched storms rage, rains pelt, rainbows stretch across the sky and I have never grown tired of experiencing the glory of the sunrise and the satisfying beauty of a sunset.

I have paddled a canoe through all kinds of weather and floated with the currents.

I have given birth twice and held my new babies as they took their first breaths, speechless in the presence of a miracle.

So, is this religious? How would I define my religion?

To me, it is striving to live by.....

showing compassion

accepting others differences

being kind

being open to the caring healing of sharing in another's poverty and sorrow

affirming the goodness in another

remembering I am not better nor worse than anyone else

recognizing the pain and the joys in others

trying to offer the rest of humanity whatever gifts I can to help make this a better place to live.

Not ornate....nor simplistic. Humanistically driven, while knowing and accepting the "visible signs of an invisible reality" as one of God's children.

Am I religious? If believing in humanity and actively playing my role within the vastness of it is considered religious...than yes I am.

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?

the 12 most difficult steps

Lily, our canine matriarch.

Photo by Martha.

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable.

2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

Heartwrenching brokenness

The series of falls are painful, bruising, hard and deep before one can reach out for the first rung with the understanding and the surrendering needed for the journey up the 12 steps.

Physically, emotionally, spiritually, holistically.

Humbly.

Honestly

Reflectively

Purposefully

I have had the privilege of learning from the experts. Their raw feelings seep out of their skin electrifying the air when they share a slice of reflections. Broken admissions blend with a hopeful heart scarred by scraping knuckles and knees in search of serenity.

Stories spill.

Wishes spill.

Tears come easily because they live just under the sensitive surface.

Prayers repeated until they are at last heard.....until they finally come from a deep holiness which sits in the pit of blackhole transformation. Prayers spoken until they are birthed into a home where loving guiding hands await the surrendering.

Palms upward and open....friends, family, strangers, God.

I have learned from the experts. Beautiful and broken..... they know the story. They know it can't be done alone. They know it needs love and unconditional acceptance. God has that in abundance. So do we.

You know, i'm left this morning wondering if these are truly the steps we all need to consider attempting. They are the learning steps towards living a life with humbling grace and forgiveness of ourselves and others.

touchstones

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

No matter what the weather, Ana had treked up to the top of the hill to place a stone she had carefully chosen and carried onto the pile which had accumulated over time. This was her lifework. She loved her stones and usually took pleasure in choosing the ones who spoke to her. Over the years, she came to believe stones were a home for spirits. They individually held ancestral stories. They were our collective legend. Her best days were when Ana discovered a diamond in the rough......a stone which resonated heat from its core when she cupped in the palm of her hand. She called those ones touchstones because they seemed to carry lovewisdom in them, derived from living in the heart of eternity. Touchstones, she believed held the stories from the past......full of ancestral feelings. Through her eyes, the collection she had accumulated was a living piece of art....a choir. Recently, the stones had become silent. Her mission, she questioned.

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

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

For some reason though, the opponent's words now haunted her thoughts and the more she listened to them replay in her head, the more she felt rejected. She looked at her worn scarred hands dried and cracked from the salty grit, remnants of her labours, her nails chipped and ugly and was overwhelmed by a sense of futility. Alone and unloved, that's how she felt. Her mission rejected. Her person rejected. When did her own self entwine with her mission? When did they become one in the same?

As she sat in a heap on this day, Ana looked at the last touchstone she had discovered. It was the smooth blue stone with white cracks etched on its surface. Its size fit perfectly in her palm, but it was far from perfect. In fact, it held character.......with chipped edges softened by the tides. This one actually never made it to the top of the hill. She kept it tucked in her pocket for company. So, as she sat questioning whether or not this truly was her legend or whether it was about to change, she found herself clutching onto the blue stone with it's softness. She ran her fingers unconciously over the fissures feeling the warmth generated from her touch. It helped her surrender her worries to the air around her. The more she repeated the movement, the more she could feel her muscles relax and her mind clear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You built the altar?"

Ana nodded as tentatively as the man did. "I never saw it as an altar. I saw it as art."

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

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

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

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

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

______________

postscript........We begin projects with clarity of purpose and so often we lose the thread which ties us to the original reason. Or perhaps the reason for the journey begins to take on a different meaning. For so long, I saw myself as a "collector of stories. The stories others shared had a home with me. They had a voice too. I became a storyteller. " That was my vocation as a counsellor and then as a writer.

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

I have a long way to go.....and I don't know the way or even how to go about it. But I do see it. More importantly, it is what I want. This ghost just needs a home.

Remembering John O'Donahue

May you be blessed with good friends.
May you learn to be a good friend to yourself.
May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where
there is great love, warmth, feeling, and forgiveness.
May this change you.
May it transfigure that which is negative, distant, or cold in you.
May you be brought in to the real passion, kinship, and affinity of belonging.
May you treasure your friends.
May you be good to them and may you be there for them:
may they bring you all the blessings, challenges, truth
and light that you need for your journey.
May you never be isolated.
May you always be in the gentle nest of belonging with your
anam cara.
John O'Donahue, Anam Cara.

I never met John O'Donahue and it was only a year and a half ago when I was introduced to his writing. But, the moment I first read a quote, I was struck by his poetic light touch beauty and hungered for more.....and hoped I would have a chance to hear him speak with the same lyrical timbre as his written words sung out to me. What I had read of Father O'Donahue intrigued me.....he seemed like a man who encompassed both an outward exhuberance and an inward reverence to life. Introspectively comfortable living in his beloved Connemara, I also got the sense that he thrived surrounded by the love and belonging of a circle of friends sipping on gold. His sudden death a year ago brought these friends as well as everyone who had been touched by his writing, his seminars, his interviews, his presence to their knees. Grief wept....


If I was asked to identify one person who made the most impact on me spiritually in 2008, it would most definately be this gentle man. His untimely death prompted me to re-evaluate my personal goals. The lessons I have gleaned reading his books have strengthened my acuity, my awareness of the many layers of faith we have the opportunity to travel to.

His words are never far away from my fingertips....the books already frayed and dog-eared from frequent dipping into the drink of his beautiful voice, travel with me as companions. Every time I randomly open one of them, I feel like I've journeyed into a place where thinness and eternity are possiblities....



Inspiring, thought provoking, lovingly holy..... a gift to many. Today on the anniversary of his death, I stop and recognize a man who continues to smile down on us all...... Shine on Father, shine on.....


A 2004 interview with John O'Donahue from the CBC radio show, Tapestry rebroadcasted last winter. I encourage you to sit back and have a listen.......

Jean Vanier, a builder of hope and light.....

He has lived most of his adult life in France, but he has been chosen as Canada's "Nation Builder" by the Globe and Mail. No one else fits the bill quite like this gentle, humble holy man. Jean Vanier's calling and how he has chosen to live it....quietly and with very little fanfare is truly inspirational. The founder of the international L'Arche communities, Vanier's lifework has altered the very way we understand and treat people with severe disabilities. His written body of work reaps in his thoughts and beliefs allowing someone like me to learn from him. Jean Vanier has much to teach our world. If you were to ask me who I would like to meet the most, to have a chance to sit down for a cup of tea with, it would be Jean Vanier. My admiration holds no boundaries for this man.

When I first heard of the L'Arche community and the philosophy behind it, I was in my early twenties embarking on a new job at a rehabilitiation centre in Toronto. It was my responsibility to create and run a "sensory stimulation" program for children and teens who were multiply handicapped. These kids, many of whom had never been involved in any structured programming designed specifically for them because of their severe limitations, and tragically our own limitations in seeing the need. They became my kids every night of the week as we explored a new world of colour, light, tastes, touch, music, movement, interaction and friendship. I loved the job. It was a challenging open ended discovery.......a perfect place for me to thrive. Still is. :)

The field of sensory stimulation and sensory integration was very new in the early 80's.....the concepts just starting to be understood, so I found myself creating as I went along. I relied mostly on the feeling of comfort I had working with children who were considered by many as cast-offs.......who actually frightened most people because there seemed to be no recognition or bonding ability. Many of these children lived in institutions or were living with families who were taxed emotionally, physically and spiritually to the max because of the lack of support in their communities or from extended families. The severity of the disabilities these children lived with meant that they required 24 hour care and supervision.

Many were at the rehab centre for wheelchair fitting, feeding and/or communication assessments or post-op care. Some of these children would arrive from acute care Children's hospitals after experiencing traumatic head injuries from accidents and were now ready for healing and rehabilitation. These kids, often still in a layer of coma but re-emerging and becoming more and more alert would begin with me in the sensory program before moving onto another recreational level later on in their healing. It was like watching a uniquely changed flower rebloom. For whatever reason, my intuition and comfort level allowed me a window into their individual worlds. Though it consumed me at the time, and I had a very tough time leaving their beautiful faces behind when I went home at night, I grew more as an individual than in any other setting I even grasped at the time.

For some reason I saw these children in a different way.....and felt a sense of bonding. I never knew how or why and for the most part while I worked there, I struggled with understanding this part of me. It wasn't until years later when I finally sat down and read the words of Jean Vanier and Henri Nouwen that I could see how connected it was to my spirituality. At the time, I questioned God, wrapping myself in the very idea that there was a God out there who would allow such pain and suffering to wrapped up in a child. I constantly asked why God created a place where babies were born with such disabilities and deformities. I wondered if it was an omen.....would I be given a baby of my own who was sick and frail and in need of constant care? Learning of the L'Arche communities then was salve to my own confusion, though I still dismissed the very idea of believing in God or at least believing in a God who could be so callous.

Reading Vanier's words, tied to the very concept of caring for the most vulnerable, of living as equals, helping one another, learning from each and every person we meet, offered me a missing link in my own awareness. It has somehow helped me make some sense of a senseless world. I guess it was my own "sensory" integration. Vanier's core religious beliefs, which have guided him and anchored him throughout his own journey resonate so deeply inside my own reflections. I'm not alone.....he has touched the hearts and souls of many. His persistant faith opened a door to recognizing my own, and most definately helped me believe in God again.....a God who loves.

"We have a strange notion of God," he writes
"It is linked, I think to our fundamental sense of guilt,
a God who condemns and punishes,
a God who just wants to take away what we love,
a God who demands sacrifices.
But that is not God.
God is Love.
God is Mercy.
God loves each one of us and knows who we are.
God is never disappointed in us.
God knows our basic fears, our fear of not being loved...
even our fear of being loved.

God loves us just as we are
and wants to reveal how deeply he respects us.
During one of our community weekends in northern France,
an assistant asked Frank, a man with disabilities
if he prayed.
He answered, 'yes.'
"What do you do when you pray Frank?"
"I listen."
"What does God say to you?"
"God says to me, 'You are my beloved son," he replied
That is what we discover in prayer:
we are a beloved son, a beloved daughter, of God.

God wants us to be united to us,
to reveal his presence to us.....
God's presence is also just as real
within our weakness and our poverty too."

Our Nation Builder of the Year..... A precious gift to us all. May we all embrace this gentle human being's beliefs, recognizing the most vulnerable who are tucked inside our own frailties.

Here is a link to the news story on his award. It gives an overview of the man himself and describes a bit of the L'Arche community and philosophy.




ps. Greenbelt bound perhaps? I wonder if that is a possiblity? :)

drama in all its glory.

Saturday morning at the market, Dec 20......

I am drawn to this picture.

I think it's one of my favourites of the year.

Last night we gathered in my home to celebrate the Christmas season shaking our heads in disbelief that another year had somehow seeped out its unfolding. There was talk about simply walking away from the year because it had truly been fraught with emotion.

life. stress. bewilderment.

But, there we were, wine glasses in hand, nibblies close by, music in the background, the fire glowing warm fellowship, animatedly sharing the stories related to the drama in our lives and I heard more laughter than any other emotional reaction. Collectively, my family and friends have been confronted with more than our share of "life events," most of which were completely out of our control, most of which sent us reeling emotionally as they played out.

The "events" list continued to grow as we scrambled and stumbled to pull each other up and over every single personal obstacle. Illness, separations, big scares, betrayal, shocking deaths, anxieties, accidents, frustrations and feelings of being lost in the woods with no compass......it all happened. Scars were left from the emotion of it all. We have changed and grown a lot since this time last year. Our personal paths have been altered, some more than others. It was like a year of being involved in a life war and it took its toll and has left many very tired. Every time something new was added to the overflowing cup, our reaction was.........what does it all mean? Why is all of this happening??

Some would simply see it as too much drama.

I remember the reaction from a colleague last summer when I called from the hospital to let them know I wouldn't be in....that we were with a close friend who had called my husband and I that morning with chest pains. His wife was away at a conference. He called us for help and of course we responded, and made it to the hospital with not a moment to spare. He almost didn't make it. We were told as they worked on him that he most likely wouldn't make it. My colleague rolled her eyes at my phone call......disbelieving that yet another life event had pulled me away from my office, so soon after my husband's stroke in the spring. I have lost complete respect for this unfeeling person. She wasn't invited to my party last night.

But my friend was, and it filled my heart with joy to see him healthy and smiling, sitting on my couch enjoying a beer and swapping stories with all of us.....with the very people who comforted and supported my own family last May when Jamie suffered a stroke.....with the very people whom we have comforted too.

Laughter filled the air in my home last night....and perhaps more wine than normal, but we earned every single sip and some....it may have been a year fraught with stressful dramatic events, and we may still be struggling to learn how it has impacted us individually. We have changed and have been stretched by the discomfort of facing mortality head on. That's what happens in the middle of life's dramas....ones we have no control over. Tears come easier and the feelings have gone deeper. So has the attachment we feel for one another. And the way I see it..... this is all good. Deeper love is all good.

I feel blessed. I feel very much alive.

Tonight, we celebrate solstice......in the middle of a winter storm. They are calling for 40 cm and high winds. It seems appropos. We'll just have to huddle together. We know how to do that.