common ground

when the student is ready, the teacher will appear

Our whole lives consist of a learning curve. From our first breath until our last, we are learning.....by seeing, listening, touching, feeling, and doing.
how to walk and talk and tie our shoes
how to add, subtract, multiply and divide
how to recite the alphabet, print, write, type and tell a story
how to use all the gadgets in our lives
how to cook, clean, iron, wash clothes
how to organize, theorize, intellectualize
how to figure things out
how to take apart, put together, and take apart again.

An accumulation of knowledge.........some useless, some helpful, some meaningful.

Along the way we find our interests, our passions.....
the topics we find most intriguing

Why? What's the point? We can't take any of this with us when we die?

Why do we have such a thirst for learning?

Survival?
To know how to react and act to danger?
To know how to critically analyze and interpret situations?
To be able to interact with others?
To take us closer to understanding our relationships?

I think we learn in order to be able to connect with others
The roles we play allow us to use our knowledge to find common ground
Common ground offers us a foundation to build on our relationships.

Sometimes there are situations we are faced with that test us.....we ask, why do I have to experience this? What am I learning from this heartbreaking moment? Why me? Why me? What's the point of being confronted with pain and anguish?

Sometimes there is no answer.......

I have been thinking a lot today about our learning process and our innate desire to soak up as much of life's lessons as we can. I've also been thinking about how sometimes we are surprised by who the teacher is.

My husband is away spending time with his parents who are both seriously ill and have been for a very long time. Their steady decline in health has been a stressful, complicated, frustrating and mind numbing process for everyone.....on so many levels. My father in law suffers from Alzheimers and Parkinsons has been in the hospital in another province for over a month now. Once a man who radiated a presence when he walked into a room is now confined to his bed because of deep bruising from a fall and he's not able to bear any weight on his one side. He's confused and losing his words. He is losing his learning..........all of it as he lies in his bed in the palliative care ward. Stripped of being able to do the basic tasks for himself, and frustrated by this he has become dependent on others for his personal care.

Our ability to learn and to continue to build on it shores up our confidence and our sense of accomplishment. Learning feeds our innate curiosity, which in turn feeds our awareness, which in turn feeds our hope, which in turn feeds our faith. Learning leads us through a life of learning our faith through the connections we make with others and with God.

Big helpings of hope and faith gives us the sustenance to face our last lesson, understanding and accepting death because it is hope and faith which affirms our lives. Because we have the chance to experience life affirmation, we then can love.

Henri Nouwen writes; "Hope and faith will both come to an end when we die. But love will remain. Love is eternal. Love comes from God and returns to God. When we die, we will lose everything that life gave us except love. The love with which we lived our lives is thelife of God within us. It is the divine, indestructible core of our being. This love not only will remain but will also bear fruit from generation to generation."

I have spoken to my husband daily as we catch up........me on the homefront, and he cocooned in a place where illness and dying are clearly visible. And, it's hard. It's hard for a son to see his Dad lose all his learning. The other night, they watched part of the hockey game together in the hospital room. Watching hockey and enjoying it together is something which connects these two. They both learned to love the game as they have watched many together, or at least discussed specific sports game in telephone conversations over the years. Common ground.

My husband told me that his Dad wasn't really able to watch the game. He was tired and unfocused. What struck me about this time together, is that my husband sat with his Dad and held his hand. Every now and then he would squeeze his Dad's hand, as they spent time together watching the hockey game.

when the student is ready, the teacher appears.........

Despite the health of my father-in-law. Despite the inability to look after himself anymore, he is still the teacher, providing big life lessons about love to his son. It's what matters the most. Love is what remains. All of our learning leads us to this moment. It is hope and faith and our innate desire to learn the things to find the common grounds that allows us to get there, but it is the unconditional sustainable love which is eternal. It is never forgotten.

All of our learning all of our lives designs the path to understanding unconditional love. I believe this learning is our greatest pursuit to finding the calm and overcoming the fear of our own mortality.

Undying love..........it's all that matters...........it never goes away

Eating blocks of government cheese........

Hey Dad! Please come home soon.
Mom is making us live in a van down by the river.

Today's forecast.........in living colour

Rainbows presented through a wide angled prism
dawn awakes
The most vibrant sunrises warn us that a storm is pending
Enjoy the calm
Enjoy the rainbow sunrise
Bad weather is a comin'

ps. Hey Jamer.....a little present from home. Wish you were here to enjoy a little of God's artwork from our livingroom. Remember what your Grandma Flo used to say...

dancing light reflections.......

pending twilight looking upriver
springhill road,
sat. evening walking the dog with Max

"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


Every morning, I arrive at my desk to an email entitled "Your Daily Insights." Today, this little gem arrived. Completely appropos to my career situation and my intent on taking the reins to move forward.....or more appropriately conducive to my own thinking, on grabbing that paddle to stern my own canoe.

I've been paddling on the same lake for a while and know the inlets well. There have been times when I've 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 as I enjoy the moment, as I make an attempt to steal deep breaths from the fresh breezes.

Others have joined me in the canoe, all of whom always bring something good to eat, to drink, to teach and to learn. All of the people in my life have shared the paddle, on good calm days, on storm pending days, and on those days when the winds change so abruptly that you need a person in the bow to pull the water in unison.

Amazing how fast you can propel yourselves in a canoe with two working together. And if you do it right, you can feel the strength coming from your whole body. Paddling is never just an arm movement thing. Oh no, paddling takes the muscles in your thighs, stomach, chest, back and arms to make the canoe propel. Your knees, spread about 6 inches as you kneel, support your weight. Your feet, tucked under the seat help you feel connected to the canoe. It takes your eyes to see where you're headed, your brain to register the changes and nuances of your journey. It takes your sense of balance to find the touchpoint of your hip and tush to the side gunnels and the just the right lean. It takes a firm grip of one hand on the butt of the paddle, and the everchanging positioning of your other hand on the neck as you allow the paddle to slide into position through your guiding hand. And if you're doing it right.......if you're allowing all the parts of your body to work the canoe and it's paddle, you become an extension of the journey.

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

Most days my paddling has a sense of familiar purpose. 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.......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. I don't have to navigate alone.

My paddle's keen and bright, flashing with silver.......
Follow the wild goose flight
dip, dip and swing........

5 oh, oh...................

favourite son genuinely amazed at his mom's big news

Welcome to my 500th posting.......

applause, whistles, shouts for joy, cheers, and smiles all around..........

oh, and confetti too? You shouldn't have........but I like it.

Writing has become a daily activity in my life, one that often takes precedence in my thoughts as I muddle through the rest of the day. Ask anyone around me.........they will most likely tell you that there are times when I'm out in lalalala land lost in the cosmos of late creating some such thing in my head. But you know what? It has paid off. My goal was to find the discipline to write everyday no matter if I felt the well of words go dry. I wanted to push through the fear of the word tap turning off. And, I wanted to allow myself a chance to freely write on topics and ideas which niggled at my thinking to a point where they wouldn't go away.

No themes, no clear direction, no parameters.........well, at least not planned out. They magically appeared.

I wanted an open forum to tackle whatever intrigued me. This seemed like the perfect arena. Though I have a few ideas for novels, have a bunch of plots and storylines mapped out, have a list of non-fiction type topics I want to explore in book form, the thought of starting out with that in mind was too daunting. My blog has offered me a chance to write in daily portions, in morsels which for the most part can stand alone.

Topics have run the gamut.......from political commentary (which I have set aside for the most part since this blog isn't so anonymous anymore) to work related observations, to poetry, sports, spirituality, family, friends, literature, religion. I have added some of my own photos as a way of highlighting my part of the world......and I have shared some stories of the people in my life. It feels like a colourful tapestry, though only part of the mosaic which is my life.

I have written, and I have learned. My writing has offered me new glimpses to my own understanding of the world around me. What has been unbelievably satisfying is how often something I may be chewing and stewing over resonates with someone else. What a gift!!

500 posts.........it makes me giddy.

Last week, I printed it all off. As much as I have learned to compose while sitting at the keyboard and only use my journal to capture phrases and ideas, I needed to see my words in print. I wanted to hold it in my own hands. I wanted to celebrate a personal accomplishment. It felt so good. Since then, I have filtered through the pile, picking and choosing pieces that seemed to have similar threads, collating the poetry....25 muskie made poems interspersed throughout 500 posts....I hadn't written a poem since I was 20 years old.

Everything I have posted was written in one go around.........for the most part unedited, and untouched since I clicked on publish and foisted out into blogland. My friend who encouraged me to write again, and who suggested my blog nom de plume after he lent me the book "Awareness" offered me one piece of advice which I continue to take to heart. He told me just to start writing.........to keep writing and not worry about the topics or whether I had found exactly the right word. And so I did..........and so it goes..........

Last night, I sat with a friend whose very good at editing and organizing me. Anne has been a faithful reader from the beginning and very supportive. Our conversation and her advice have pointed me in a productive direction with respect to pulling some of these musings together and making them stronger. This is my summer project.........one that I am SOOOO looking forward to. AND it is one I will be working on using my brand new laptop my family surprised me with on the weekend. It meant more than they will ever know, (simply because I havent been able to find the words without getting all choked up about it. The gift of my very own laptop sent the message loud and clear with love that despite the fact that there have been many days when my head was in the clouds, they get it.............and they want to support me in my pursuits.....

My project doesn't mean I will stop the flow here on my site................oh, hell no! I'm just getting warmed up. In fact, it really only feels I have slid under one layer of my skin. For me, it feels like the beginning of my awareness. And I do hope you'll continue to take part in the journey while I find the words emanating from my new computer.

POP goes the Champagne............yummy!

cue............

The Proclaimers.............I would walk 500 miles.............and I would walk 500 more

mother's day........

beautiful market tulips for mom, may 2007

A purpose for every season.

I love that Mother's Day falls smack dab in the middle of spring. Spring personifies motherhood. It is a time for planting, nurturing and encouraging growth. It is a time to watch nature's rebirth. And all around us we see the infancy greens, the beauty of the daffodils and tulips, our first sturdy promise of things to come. Under our back deck, the robins have returned to build nests for their precious blue eggs. There are four of them this year, and the feisty momma robins along with their protective orange breasted partners are protecting their territory voraciously from the pesky blue jays.

Being a MOM

Planting,
feeding,
listening
touching,
consoling,
watching,
protecting,
providing,
making things better with our love
loving, loving, loving

It is the recipe for a good start. It is the recipe for helping our loved ones build a foundation. It is the essence of spring.

And as I write this, I think of my two children who are not far away from me, and of their Dad, my partner in life, who is away from us visiting his own mother and father this week while staying with my own Mom and Dad. They all live in the same area.

This morning, he will see his own Mom to share Mother's Day with her, knowing it may be her last. He will take her a big bunch of tulips to fill her home with spring, make her tea and tell her stories of her grandchildren. Nothing, however takes precedence over having her son with her today. He is her Mother's Day present. The tulips are simply eye candy. Her son is the real thing.

And me? My thoughts float west...................to my Mom who will be out in her garden most likely thinking about her Mom............. her own 3 daughters who are also Moms.........

And thoughts to my Mother in Law, Mim who gets to share her day smiling, and forgetting about the realities of illness.

A purposeful season........the circle of life.

ps....if you happen to be looking for me? Well, I will out in the garden doing my thing and counting my blessings. They are bigger than the biggest bouquet of tulips and just as stunning.

The Flavouring of A Second Chance

"We all must hold the cups of our lives. As we grow older and become more fully aware of the many sorrows of life -- personal failures, family conflicts, disappointments in work and social life, and the many pains surrounding us on the national and international scene -- everything within and around us conspires to make us ignore, avoid, suppress, or simply deny those sorrows. "Look at the sunny side of life and make the best of it," we say to ourselves and hear others say to us. But when we want to drink the cups of our lives, we need first to hold them, to fully acknowledge what we are living, trusting that by not avoiding but befriending our sorrow we will discover the true joy we are looking for right in the midst of our sorrows. " Henri Nouwen

"I still haven't found what I'm looking for............."

Not yet, anyways. But isn't that the journey of life? We are inherent seekers and doers. It's in our genes. It's in the salt found in our spirits. It is in the salt found in the food and drink we share with our friends and family. It is in the salt found in our tears.......flavouring our lives, as we learn and grow from trying. We may not get it right the first time, or the second or the third OR even the fourth time. God, we may not ever get it right, but what is a life where at the end of it, we haven't sought out and explored the world and the people around us?

What is a life where there is no reflection emanating back at you? What is a life of avoiding risks, of hiding from the truth, of not recognizing mistakes or celebrating accomplishments? It is one of suppressed regret. It is a life of coulda woulda shoulda..............ooooops it's over.

What if you woke up one morning at 75 years of age with the stark realization that your life was not what you expected, or that you didn't do the things you wanted to do? Would you be paralyzed by the belief that it's too late to do anything about it? Would you beat yourself up emotionally to a point where you couldn't recover from the disease of regrets? Or would you be able to grab hold of a second chance, dust yourself off, make some decisions and start moving forward in a new direction?

Personally, I'd like to avoid experiencing that epiphany then. I want to reach that milestone with a rucksack full of attempts..............the second chances which led to both success and failures, all flavoured with the salt of life. In fact, I want no salt left to discard. I want it all used up.........as I taste life.

Nouwen writes of learning from our sorrows. Through our sorrows, we can find joy. Our choice is clear. We can choose to allow our sorrows to engulf and overwhelm us to a point where we stop trying, where we stop reaching out for the second chance. Or we can grab hold of the cup with both hands, take a big gulp of insight, swallow our fearful pride, stomp on our guilt, acknowledge our sins.............FORGIVE our mistakes as God forgives us and keep on with the search.

At any age..........at any age..........

We are seekers...........who sometimes need to take our turn hiding. We need seclusion to stop the world around us, to find the silence, to dwell between the breaths, to contemplate success and failures. We need it. Even in our hiding spots, however, we never stop seeking. In fact, now that I am thinking about it, I wonder if we seek more deeply when we have retreated. Sure, it's much scarier to seek in the dark, but sometimes the challenge makes it all the more gratifying. Perhaps, finding the braveheart to reach out for a second chance at twilight is what it takes to be moved by life affirming grace.

Second chance grace. I like that tasty idea.

for more sunday scribblings on second chances, click here.

Surrendering.......

"The harder you try to change, the worse it can get. Does this mean that a certain degree of passivity is all right? Yes, the more you resist something the greater power you give to it.

That's the meaning, I think to Jesus' words: "When someone strikes you on the right cheek, offer him your left as well." You always empower the demons your fight. But if you flow with the enemy, you overcome the enemy. How does one cope with evil? Not by fighting it but by understanding it. In understanding, it disappears.

How does one cope with darkness? Not with one's fist. You don't chase darkness out of a room with a broom, you turn on a light. The more you fight darkness, the more real it becomes to you and the more you exhaust yourself. But when you turn on the light of awareness, it melts.

Say this scrap of paper is a billion dollar cheque. Ah, I must renounce it, the gospel says, I must give it up if I want eternal life. Are you going to substitute one greed -- a spiritual greed -- for the other greed? Before you had a worldly ego and now you've got a spiritual ego, but you've got an ego all the same.......a refinded one and one more difficult to cope with. When you renounce something, you're tied to it. But if instead of renouncing it, I look at it and say......

"Hey, this isn't a billion dollar cheque.....this is a scrap of paper," there is nothing to fight, nothing to renounce.

Anthony de Mello, an excerpt from his book, Awareness.



Here's my other cheek........

I have started to make some career moves in another direction, and it looks as though I have found the river flowing with me. It's not that I have "surrendered" in a manner which i feel defeated. In fact, it feels like a huge weight is leaving my shoulders. This afternoon, I met with someone who helped me make a couple of steps.....baby steps....forward. Names of others were shared from a different network than I am aware of......but one I want to join. New terminology, and a new way of "packaging" my portfolio to reflect a new direction.

It will take time........but it may be that the time is just right. i fought and fought to be able to continue in the realm I had "defined" my skillset.....counselling..... The paradox is that counselling is what I love to do, but it is defining myself as a counsellor which shrinks the box of opportunity. As De Mello writes in his book, Awareness, the labels come and go.......the labels are constantly in flux. It is the "I" which is constant.

I will always be a counsellor in some capacity........I seek out the opportunities, and the opportunities seek me out. Always has, always will. But, I'm surrendering to the labels........and I'm heading downstream on a bright blue inner tube.

"I" will remain..................it is the core of my spirit. Giving in........offering up the other cheek...........not fighting the demons.............is refreshingly helpful.

Well, it may not feel the same as sitting in an uncomfortable pew,

but it may be just as transformative.

At least it'll be fun doing a comparative analysis.

onset of twilight
last sweet gasp
a full day sipping sigh
from my cup filled with shiraz
ember tasting nectar which soothes my insides.

Twilight, now dark night as I write
of quiet reflections
many competing thoughts as I sip from my cup
many competing feelings as I sip from my cup

a colleague who during a break today
in the middle of my workshop on anxiety
spills his secret
he hears voices
apparition voices
he tells me with a desire to believe that this is good
that he has clairvoyant abilities
why don't I believe him?
why am I worried for him?
because his words didn't match the behaviour I observed.
I wonder about his mental health
worry that perhaps his confession was the beginning of many conversations I may have with him as he sorts out his stuff

my old boss
whom I find ensconced behind a closed door
she never closed her door when I lived in the office right beside her for so many years.
but now she's overworked, stressed, tired
she just got back from vacation and yet she now looks tight faced with baggy eyes
her shoulders stroop more than she realizes.
as i open her door to ask her if she's alright.......
she talks about needing time away
so I ease her pain.....and tell her a funny "family" story......
a family story connected to the crazy maker family I married into
and she laughs
she laughs and laughs at my punch line
a nice escape........and she tells me that she misses me.

my friend who calls tonight
her husband, also a close friend is back in the hospital
emergency 911 today
earlier in the week, he is hit with kidney stones
the pain doubles him over
unable to pass the stone
makes him writhe in agony until they remove it.
he called last night.........laughing and shouting
"mission accomplished!!"
We laugh about the experience
I tell him I'll make dinner for him this weekend......
he can have control of the remote
to watch sports from the leather chair
comfortable settled in my living room.
"it's a deal............."
But today, the pain returned.
Doubled over, Helen had to call 911..........
another kidney stone?
post surgery inflammation?
infection?
we don't know yet but he's back in the hospital drugged up on morphine
blissed out, while his wife and daughter worry alone.


my uncle who is facing his own realities tonight in the hospital far away
he tells me last night that every test they have done on him has been bad news
he may lose a few toes from newly diagnosed diabetes
his heart is in bad shape
he needs surgery on two parts of his body
and yet, when we talk on the phone........we swap stories.
we catch up, and laugh about funny things that have happened in the past
all the while avoiding the fact that this week was the anniversary of my grandmother's, his mother's death.
it was the last time I had seen him.
we spent a day together after the funeral going through my grandmother's belongings
together swapping stories, crying from fresh grief, laughing over funny things.
we didn't talk about that yesterday.
we miss her too much....it's too raw, and he needs to focus on himself.
he tells me stuff I know he isn't able to share with his own family
his feelings
his real feelings
because we have that kind of bond
I tell him his toe will save his life
he believes me
I believe it
we say good bye both feeling good about our chat
tomorrow I will call again.
I can't visit in person, but we'll keep talking
we need to, we want to.
I end the conversation by telling him that I love him.
my uncle, who looked after me when I was a baby
and I wonder when the last time was...
when did I tell him I loved him last?
he knows now...
yes, he knows now....


my cup is full and yet I keep sipping........
twilight is over
darkness has wrapped for the night.

and I'm alright.......
I'm alright....
I'm alright.

persistantly, palpitating, pulsing panic

driftwood confusion

This is the intro to a workshop I'm delivering tomorrow......

_________________________________________________________________

"Some of your grief you have cured, and lived to survive; but what torments of pains have you endured that haven't as yet arrived?"

Ralph Waldo Emerson

When does worry turn the corner? When does worry take hold of your guts wrenching it to a point where it sends out prickly electricity from its source? When does worry shackle you to the sofa or to the bed or to a corner in your room, away from all others? When does worry lead you to seek mind numbing sustenance in order to find that elusive sleep, or to deaden those sparks of electricity? When does worry take you closer to the precipice, where your footing is affected by the moving stones once part of a solid foundation? When does it transform from heightened excitement to head pounding fear or from numbness to heightened ecstasy? When does worry slide into a place called anxiety?


You’ve arrived at anxiety when you you’re overcome with unrelenting fear. Darkness prevails. In fact, Anxiety feels like a ghost town littered with rusted faith ……a place where you arrive to find no solace, and no one to make it go away. It is a lonely town where heartbeats fluster and palpitations interfere with even breathing. Dread, fatigue, cluttered thoughts overwhelm the air in the place called Anxiety. If you listen closely, the most predominant sound is a breath cutting wincing wail of confusion.

Your first thought is to run away…..FAST…….to get away to the next town… to find the light glimmers of faith. Away……away…….from the pain and sorrow…..towards calm and safety….towards ANYTHING to find control again.

Anxiety can feel like you’re dying.
What is more fear producing than facing down our own mortality?
So, we seek out life affirmation,
whatever the costs,
no matter how cognitively unrealistic the actions may be because anxiety shuffles our thinking.

Most try to avoid it at all costs, though some, possibly numbed by trauma to a point where they aren’t feeling anything addictively search for it by taking huge risks, pushing the envelope, cutting, lashing, reaching for mind alterations, seeking release, pulsing release.

Anxiety is a paradox….a drug to avoid OR a drug to seek out as we fight the loss of faith.

It is a contagious leech with the propensity to affect others who are within reach. Like a vapour in the air, it is invisibly powerfully debilitating……..physically and emotionally, spiritually. Don’t think it can’t touch you because if you’re not paying attention while the mounds of stress begin to build it’s fortress all around you, Anxiety will thump you on the shoulder, gobble up your breath, surge your blood pressure with its obsessive compulsive claustrophobic, agoraphobic, intensiphobic exuberance.

So what to do? Anxiety serves a purpose if you’re in tune with it….if you’re able to capture its essence…..if you’re able to wrestle it long enough to reclaim calm. Gotta do the wrestling. No way around it as far as I can see. Fear can be captured and sent running away with it's tail between it's legs.

Ring any bells for anyone?? I think we've all felt it at some point in our lives. Perhaps some of us are facing it down today.

belonging..........

Stop along the way into Uncle Max's woods.
He is felt everywhere

"Belonging is what it means to be a family. If parents have encouraged initiative and growth to freedom, if children have been listened to and helped to make their own decisions, to accept and respect others, and to be open to them, if they have been taught to live the to-and-fro of life with others, these children will later on be able to live other forms of belonging and grow to maturity with greater ease. They will be more open to others because they will have lived trust and communion of hearts. " Jean Vanier, Becoming Human

Heart at Red rocks, West Advocate beach

here i am.....................

"Look
I understand too little too late
I realize there are things you say and do
You can never take back
But what would you be if you didnt even try
You have to try
So after a lot of thought
Id like to reconsider
Please
If its not too late
Make it a cheeseburger

Here I am
Yes its me
Take my hand
And youll see
Here I am
Yes its true
All I want
Girl is you"

Lyle Lovett

A Call to Worship

Spencer's Island beach.
Never any traffic.
Always welcoming.

"When your illusions drop, you're in touch with reality at last and believe me, you will never again be lonely, never again. Loneliness is not cured by human company. Loneliness is cured by contact with reality. Contact with reality, dropping one's illusions, making contact with the real. Whatever it is, it has no name. We can only know it by dropping what is unreal. You can only know what aloneness is when you drop your clinging, when you drop your dependency. But the first step toward that is that you see it as desirable. If you don't see it as desirable how will you get anywhere near it?"

Anthony de Mello, an excerpt from his book, Awareness.

It's good to revisit some books. This weekend, I stumbled upon a copy of "Awareness," the book which tripped a light on for me not so long ago.....the book whose title I borrowed for my blog. Such a great word, and more importantly a lifelong learning goal. Awareness. It was a timely book for me to read then, and perhaps even more timely to re-read Anthony de Mello's resonating messages.

Illusions.........dependence on illusions......and on others to "cure" our loneliness or other unfulfilled needs.

A clinging dependence is claustrophobic..........whenever I feel this, it's because I'm feeling insecure, unsure of my own capabilities. I hate this feeling, because I know I'm at a point where I'm so vulnerably lacking in confidence that I'm afraid to venture out, take risks, figure it out. WE all know that sometimes it's really really difficult to face reality when the option is to hide in an illusion.

And yet.......here's the paradox....it is often at this tender point of vulnerability when we come to a place where we are exhausted from the illusive darkness we have fought for so long. We cling, and cling and cling to beliefs, to people, to a way of being until we cannot anymore. Illusions, often masked as shadowy apparitions, we come to realize are not malleable. We can't hold onto them. They don't work. Recognition of real is where illusions will eventually lead us.

Kind of like blind faith, where once it seemed reasonable and full of truth and direction. It eventually reveals itself as a pillar of salt. Blind faith is a crutch. Wide-eyed open faith? It is a place of doubting adoration, a place where questions abound on the nature of our society......on the good and evil that fight it out daily in our world and in our own heads.......a place where worship is interactive, scary and full of messy questioning. Doubting adoration. Worship with reverence, but open to places when a person can simply say.........hey wait a minute.....I don't get it.........OR.............that can't be true.......

De Mello also states..........

"No one else can understand for you. And if what you seek is truth, then you must do this. You can lean on no one."

Hey God, are you there? It's me, Muskie. I've got a bunch of questions for you. But, first of all, I want to thank you for providing me with a brain. Though I'd like to turn it off every now and then and just go with the flow, on most days, I am forever grateful because like everyone, I'm learning to strive for awareness through REAL. Now, here's my first question..................

Why do we have to "fear You?"

Spencer's Island, Nova Scotia.
The village overlooks this island.
Only gulls live there.

Cadeaux de la Mer

West Advocate beach

Lofty cool gusts
Storming gales
Steady fresh breezes
To fill my sails

Beachcombing shore
Tidal rifts
Briskmaking strolls
To receive her gifts

Today, we are packing up the van and heading east.....more east to Nova Scotia. Our destination is to a big white farmhouse which sits up on a hill overlooking the village of Spencer's Island and the beautiful ocean.....the Bay of Chignecto to be exact. The house is the childhood home of my mother-in-law. The village, once a thriving shipbuilding centre, as were many of the little villages along the Parsboro shore, is now a sleepy little place at this time of year, before the folks "from away" arrive for the summer. Even then, it still has a sleepy feel to it.

Unlike the ocean.
It never sleeps.
It clears my head
Consumes my thoughts
Embraces my songs
Takes away my frustrations
And it always makes me feel alive.

For the next couple of days, we will slow down, go for walks, visit with the friends and family who call this place home year round, share meals of scallops and lobster and maybe some flounder, sit by the big fireplace in the livingroom to read and to play cards. We will take many trips down the hill to the beach to collect driftwood, shells, to breathe in the salt air and take in the spectacular medicinal view. A big bonfire is in the plans.........


This is the place where I first secured my emotional roots when we moved to the Maritimes. As I write, I am inundated with stories of fresh memories -- so much so that I find it difficult to capture just one to share. Perhaps the stories need to wait.......they need to gestate and formulate during a few ambling walks along the shoreline over the next couple of days while I decompress and clear my head and only focus on finding the treasures tucked in the sand and pebbles along the shoreline.

The ocean...............sculptured by the winds with everchanging skies which reflect an inviting panorama palette of colour on her waves will be my destination. Away from busy. Away from it all. A welcoming respite for me and my family and our dog. I can't tell you how much we all need her rejuvenating medicine.

I could cry salty tears
Where have I been all these years
A little while, tell me now
How long has this been going on?
(Van Morrison, How long has this been going on?)

See you soon. xo

For more Sunday Scribblings on the "ocean" please visit this link to their site.

fly me to the moon........

tulip dressed for dancing

That's life (that's life), that's what all the people say
You're ridin' high in April, shot down in May
But I know I'm gonna change that tune
When I'm back on top, back on top in June

I said that's life (that's life), and as funny as it may seem
Some people get their kicks stompin' on a dream
But I don't let it, let it get me down
'cause this fine old world, it keeps spinnin' around

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king
I've been up and down and over and out and I know one thing
Each time I find myself flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race
(D.K. Gordon, K Thompson) smoothly and with heart sung by Frank Sinatra
Can't you just hear him belting it out??

It doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing, music can transport, uplift, commiserate and celebrate. Songs, whether it's the message in the lyrics, the sensual beat of the melody or both has the ability to move you to a new locale with a tap of the foot or a snap of the fingers, and wish your were on the dance floor with a partner who can make your temperature soar.

Yesterday, it was Sinatra who joined me during my travels and who made me stop and wonder about this magic of music and how it can send rivulets right through your body. My goodness, the man could sing a sexified song. Not, in your face seduction........more innuendo........though not subtle either. Sinatra's songs, especially during the Capital Record years oooooozzze with sassy sensuality, with alluring appeal. The man could set a mood for ember setting lovemaking like no other.

No wonder I got lost driving yesterday. I was in fantasy land........swinging on a star, taking a boat to Miami, with the world on a string, sitting on a rainbow, up there where the air is rarified.........singing along dreamily.....searching for a rainbow.

Slow dancing nice and easy................does it everytime.

"Let’s take it nice and easy
It’s gonna be so easy
For us to fall in love

Hey baby what’s your hurry
Relax and don’t you worry
We’re gonna fall in love

We’re on the road to romance - that’s safe to say
But let’s make all the stops along the way

The problem now of course is
To simply hold your horses
To rush would be a crime
’cause nice and easy does it every time"

yes it does......everytime

enjoy........

the "Ups" are winning.......

The day began at a "Barn Dance."

Two amazing teachers and 50 AMAZING kids worked very hard to pull off a well rehearsed play written by one of the teachers at Garden Creek School today. I attended the first show of the morning surrounded by a bunch of other "Creeker" families.......moms and dads and grampies and grammies........ and the other Creeker kids from the classes.

4 City Folk end up stranded "in the country" without any of their relied upon amenities.....cellphones don't work, no internet, laptops etc. They are blown away by their surroundings. The country folk welcome them with open arms and teach them big life lessons just by being kind and accepting.

Celebratory fun spread throughout the gym.......the kids were so into it. I loved their enthusiasm throughout and then the looks on their faces at the end when they took their bows like pros....... such a sense of accomplishment. I just wanted to hang out there all day. In my next life, I will have my own school and fill it with teachers like these two who see their life work as a true calling. It shows in spades........!!

The Barn Dance Band........ their were riggin' and jiggin' and loving it.

Later in the morning, I hit the road for a meeting in Saint John. One should never get cocky about one's sense of direction. And if one does, one should acknowledge the lesson relearned and stop along the way to take pics. I ended up so twisted around in Saint John that I somehow ended up at the Yacht Club. Since I was so late at this point..........I pulled over to take in the scenery......

Great name for a boat?

This was the end of the road......it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know you've taken a wrong turn when the road simply ends........

Saint John is a made up of 4 sections all around different harbours and bodies of water. I think I managed to land myself in 3 of them!! I saw the infamous Reversing Falls 3 times today (as impressive as Magnetic Hill, I'm afraid) MAN! The stink from the pulp and paper mill nearby just about choked me. I stopped three times to ask for directions and not one person was able to tell me the names of streets in their descriptions........as much as they wanted to help.......

"Go past the Sobeys and then turn right by the green house........then follow the road up past the rifle range......I think it's on the right........then..........ahhhhhh...........you'll see a Superstore where the road jigs to the right........go past the Subway and the road's just after that." THREE versions of these directions..........and I finally made it to the meeting. I almost gave up, but was determined......I had a mission!!!!

I was so late it was funny. Fortunately, I wasn't the only dough brain trying to make it there.....others got lost too. Great meeting..........lots of talk of planning a conference........and getting to know one another on the committee. And, I met two beautiful women with spark and energy who live and work in Fredericton...... I have a feeling our paths will now cross more often. I have a feeling that this conference may be a whole lot of FUN!!!

On the way out of town...................I took this shot while sitting in traffic. Not bad for a windshield shot. One day, I will head down to Saint John to take lots of pics. The place is full of character and stories and charm.................and it's a little rough around the edges just like a port city should be.

Today..........was full of "Ups" and a few frustrations in the middle. Along the way.......the music was always excellent.

above the radar

Out Standing Diana

On my way to work this morning, I stopped to grab a tea and paper. It is the same place I wrote about just before Christmas, where I met the muffin lady, Diana and ended up sharing a heartfelt moment chatting it up in the middle of the store. Today was no different, though it had been a while since I had seen her. As usual, when I walked into the store which is filled with customers at this time of day, I greeted Diana with a good morning. She in turn lifted her head up from the muffin shelves and with an amazing exuberance greeted me with a big hello........

"Look at you today! Where did you get those capris pants? I love the little black and white checks. And it goes so well with your red coat..........OH you always look so beautiful and bright," she says quite loudly for all to hear. The woman makes me feel good and makes me laugh. Good thing I don't embarrass easily.

As I poured the hot water for my tea, we began chatting.........me asking her how she's doing.....is she excited about retiring in the summer..........how she looks healthy and rested (she was feeling ill the last time I saw her).......and she asking me about my plans for the day.

"I'm on the road most of today, visiting people in their homes."

"Oh, how lucky they are to have you visit them," she replies with a big smile on her face. The woman is a delight.

Then, she closes in and begins to whisper..........her face changes from happiness to desperation.

"I know you're busy, but I'm wondering if you could visit me at my home. I'm having a terrible time of it. Terrible! I have to get out of here and find another job. Can you help me find another job?"

"What's the matter? What's happened? You're so close to retiring." I ask.

"My Manager keeps yelling at me in front of customers. He's an evil man and treats me like I'm doing something wrong all the time. He has done this 4 times.....yelling at me and cursing me out in front of everyone. It happened on Sunday. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. My daughter is so upset with him. I'm not sleeping at night. All of sudden after 4 years working here, I get stomach pains when I have to come in for my shift. He's a hateful man. He has no right talking to me like that."

Then, we head outside away from other ears..............to continue talking. This beautiful full of sunshine woman is being brow beaten by a crazy maker of a boss who tells her to shut up and do her work, who emotionally harasses her with words like "stupid", "unfocused", "nosey", "dense." I wanted to go find the guy and choke him.

I shared with her a little bit of what is going on in my work life.......just enough so that she knew that crazymakers are everywhere and that I totally understood her situation.

I said.......

"Diana.....you're not someone who can just put your head down and do your work are you? You need to connect with people and help them. I'm afraid you are in this guy's radar, and the others arent because of this......"

Oh, no, no, no. I CAN'T work under the radar.........that's not me! And I bet that's not you either!"

"Nope............I'm an above the radar person too. We are always in the line of fire you know with crazy maker bosses! For some reason we threaten them. I think it's because we can connect with people. You know........it's much better to live above the radar don't you think?

"Oh yes, oh yes......." she said smiling. "I couldn't live any other way. We would never have met if we had both gone about our business with our heads down, now would we honey? But, then God would've found a way for us to meet don' t you think? He knows what He's doing....."

Then, Diana laughed...........gave me a hug...............which I returned..........and then went back to work, as I went off to do my work.

I thought about her all day...........hoping that she could get through the rest of her shift without any scenes. 3 months to go before the woman retires and the boss is browbeating her? What a sicko that man is.......displacing his own anger and self-loathing on an innocent 64 year old woman.

Why are there so many crazymaker bosses out there? How is it that they manage to secure jobs where they are allowed to treat people like shit? It's beginning to feel like it's a prerequisite.

full moon haze

It is in the darkness where you will find your source of light.
Perhaps nestling in the branches.
Thats why it's good to know how to climb trees.

Can you feel the silence?

Can you feel the silence, can you feel the silence
Hymns to the silence. Hymns to the silence
Van Morrison

There is an assortment box of silence

filled with many notes

to feel,

to hear,

to touch,

to taste,

to inhale.


it can be a well deserved moment at the end of a busy interactive day
gone is the incessant buzzing of flourescent lighting above your work place
an ahhhhhhhhh silence as you gather your reflections over a cup of tea
in peace

it can be a sharp stinging slap of shame brought on by
quaking timorous vibes
the finger pointing guilt producing pain in the gut
called the silent treatment

it can be unencumbered sharing of space
a welcome comfort between two friends
where unspoken feelings are known
as an expression of trust without words

it can be a broken misfiring of silence
from passive aggressive wounds
inescapable, unsettling, and loudly obnoxious
the squeezing of calm, leaving heavy air


it can be an intimate love affirming moment
with only whispered breaths filling the room
the escaping of noisy world demands
and into a silently shared bliss

it can be a deep internal stillness
away from the honking, howling, hurtling noise of the streets
thoughtful prayer of meditation, contemplation
A heartspoken hymn to the silence

peaceful, destructive, sorrowful, blissful, pitiful, loving, enlightening, encumbering, contemplative. silence is paradoxical. and yet, we should seek it out whenever we can, even when it is hurtful and uncomfortable, because it always brings new awareness.

this is my new learning.......painfully grasped by the silent treatment