creativity

In your light

I learn how to love.

In your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest,

where no one sees you,

but sometimes I do,

and that sight

becomes this art.

Rumi

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

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

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

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

reading glasses and red lips.

Our TV waves have been inundated with slick graphically enhanced ads created to try to lure us to the side of what is "right and good"....whatever that is. It's silly season once again both here and south of the border. You'd think as a political junkie, I would be feeling a sense of heightened thirst quenching quivers. Surprisingly, I'm not. In fact I'm having a very tough time conjuring up any whiff of interest even though I keep hearing the pundits and journalists yammer on about the importance of the elections. Did you know these are THE most important elections of our time. Really? Gee, it seems like it's the same dinner fare we've been dished up since the beginning of time. Well, except for the recent emergence of Sarah the Alaskan running mate.

Is it just me, or is does she resemble everyman's fantasy of Library girl? You know that one.......stern and no-nonsense on the outside, firey vixen on the inside? Well, then she opens her mouth and as much as she says the difference between a hockey mom and a pitbull is lipstick? I've met my share of pitbull hockey moms. They wear lipstick.....and sometimes no nonsense bouffie hairdos and reading glasses...........and they bellow and bite with venom. I wonder if the stock prices of erectile dysfunction blue pills have tanked lately because of her smoking gun presence? hmmmm..........just wondering, because no doubt about it.........this woman is a hot commodity. In fact, I think her ovaries have a brass shine to them and she's ringing them loud and in your face.

I watched the interview between "ABC Charlie" and "Alaskan Sarah...." a reading glasses fest. The questions, posed with the eyes over the top of the glasses.......damn seriously.......were unrelenting and MUCH needed.....produced answers more revealing of this woman and her extreme right wing opinions than I think she intended. Bloggie and MSM editorials predictably run the gamut of opinion, though it appears that they agree with her mishandling of the "Bush Doctrine" question, which automatically makes one question her depth of knowledge on her own government's policy. She tried to sidestep in and in turn made it quite apparent that she wasn't too sure what Gibson was referring to.

Yes, her answers on how to handle international issues and hot spots in the world were downright scary in my opinion, but you know what? It doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter. She has made an impact solely on who she is and who she is not. This is the allure! It has nothing to do with whether she has travelled much or whether she has met a Head of State. It matters that she HASN'T!!! What she has done in one astonishing back swoop is to hairclip the freshness out of Obama's wings.

Frontier Sarah brandished the "second coming" of Kennedy to the back pages and kitty litter boxes of yesterday's news ALL without a "blink......" Yes, she stated that there's no time to blink.........and didn't when McCain came calling. More amazingly, Sarah Palin woke up the masses........you know the ones who the Democrats had hoped would remain sleepy and apathetic. She woke up the people who see her and say.........."she's one of us! She can be our Washington slayer!" They see the fire in her belly, the no nonsense ability to cut through the crap and tell it like it is. They see Sarah Palin as a real live person who has emerged from an ordinary family and existance to take it all on. Her presence makes everyone else's presence seem lamely predictable and worn out. Even the new bright light Obama.

It all reminds me of something out of a Frank Capra movie!!

Did I say I wasn't interested? Did I say I didn't agree with the headline grabbing.........."most important election" diatribe? I guess I better rethink this because the election just keeps on grabbing hold......it keeps on getting more and more interesting as I glance over my reading glasses and take in the next breath of talking head babble. They will continue to consume themselves thereby helping her along. Sarah Palin will continue to spout off in too many unhandle-able directions and make glaring mistakes. This will breed new life into the talking head commentators, and will feed the comedy sketch grist mill of late night talk show hosts. Their jokes and opinions won't matter....... she will continue her meteoric rise from moose bagging hockey mom to the next Vice President of the United States. The masses are awake........and they like her. The people who were contemplating not voting altogether because of their disdain for McCain will be voting......and I'm afraid there's enough of them and of momentum to force her to pack up her growing family and head south.....er....east.

You know what? She's such a multi-tasking firecracker that I'm sure she'll manage to do juggle it all as well as make sure the lipstick is on in bold red. I mean after all, she's got God on her side and I hear he had something to do with the war in Iraq. There are moose in Washington aren't there?

Meet you in the foxhole. I'm ducking for cover.

ps.....is there an election on this side of the border too? Gee........who knew? I think we could use a big stir of the day old pot of past banquets.........a little spice to add flavour to the gruel. Where are the brass ovaried women eager to turn Ottawa upside down? Oh, we had that in the last election by way of the Princess of Auto Parts, Belinda Stronach..... she was going to be the saving grace ticket to an engaged constituency. And where is she now after breaking a few hearts, showing her glaring need to maintain her princesstry by always getting what she wanted. Well, after breaking up the marriage of one fine goon from the National Hockey League, Mr. Ty Domi, she hung up her skates and puckbunny ears, quit politics and has moved on.........into the quiet wilderness of the corporate world. That was enough to turn off any politically interested females who may have been on the cusp of running.

Bowing down to the Blues

Wild shades of the blues descended in brassy trombone style and intermingled with the smooth essence of fragrant jazz on Fredericton this week turning our historical downtown into a festival of sound. Thousands of locals and "from aways" took it all in...............all ages with different interests and personal favourites.

There was a lively spirit in the air, the full moon peaked through the night clouds and hovered over the river and the big tents which were filled with a celebratory feel good groove. 12 or so different venues, with a different flavours and street musicians on corners and store stoops ranging from young talented guitar players to our fun loving preacher/Elvis impersonator...............there was something for everyone and it all blended into the night sky.

We found ourselves near the front as 4 trombones, 1 tuba, drums and a bass guitar ripped open the roof with a blast that resonated right through every audience member..........the sound was so loud, the tempo so bold that all you could do is go with it............let it hit your temples, let it pulse your heart and feel it as the kind of emotion only music can lend itself to.

The Harvest Jazz and Blues Festival (click on the name to see the headliners) comes to a close today with a free concert in Officer's Square.............like the past 4 days, it will be packed with people who once a year bow down to the blues. Then they lift their arms into the air in celebration that out of the blues comes a wide appreciation and respect for a genre of music which pierces through the facade and sends life affirming light through the cracks of the forgotten, downtrodden, misbegotten lot of us. The blues represent the glory of renew.

A few photos from last night's festivities........................two of the bands we took in.........Bonerama from (re)New Orleans, and The Tom Fun Orchestra from Cape Breton.........

Jazz and Blues may not get the airplay or the respect it deserves...............it most certaintly did this week in Fredericton. Thank you to all the organizers and volunteers. What a great enthusiastic community I live in! LOVEITLOVEIT. :)

My New Year.

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

John O'Donahue

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

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

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


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

Carpe Diem.

meet the ladies.

Up close and personal.....that's how I like to take pictures of the dancing ladies of the garden. This week's theme over at Carmi's place is "close up...." and nothing intrigues me more than the macro view of nature, especially the colour and texture of a bloom. Close up shots humanize them somehow. They come alive emotionally, a desirous yearning.......a strong stoicism.......a delicate softening.

The textures jump out of a close up shot.....both the imperfections and the perfections. Often it's the only time you can really see the distinct blemishes which make a flower unique in their design. Just like humans. If one simply takes a quick glance look at another person, you miss out on the well earned beauty marks. Flowers radiate strength as they grow despite the elements they endure. Just like us. My emerald friend Pip, who I think would rather have his tooth pulled than spend any time at a garden centre (though he truly knows a thing or two about beauti-fullness) says that growth doesn't live in a place called comfortable. We endure the elements too and by doing so, we accept the opportunity to stretch our possibilities. A bit of discomfort, but the results often produce our beautifull personal blossoms.


The garden is a wild analogy for our lives. At times it seems like a disorganized mess and at other times, it can be seen as ever changing sculpture of recognized beauty. Every single garden is unique as the colours blend and clash and form their own identity.


Flowers up close......... fill my imagination with animated movement and allow me to see how something can grow despite the harsh elements. Just like we do. In fact, because of the harsh elements......the uncomfortable-ness of life's messy contradictions, complications, and crazyness is actually the compost needed for the best kind of personal growth.

For more close up photos, check out Carmi's wonderful blog...... He's a master of the macro.

belonging

There is a difference when you get to play under the lights. It's like the air is electrified with magical faery dust alerting the senses that perhaps something grand is occuring.

Do you remember when your mother told you to come home when the lights went on? In the summer, the lights don't come on until it's really late, and if you pushed that "rule" envelope and stayed out past twilight when the sky is a deep purply blue, it felt like you had entered into a realm usually forbidden to children. There was a lightness in the new freedom of crossing into evening play.

As the sun set on the evening at the ballpark, I watched the kids on the field take on a different intensity in their play..........like they were on their own field of dreams playing like the pros. They loved their time under the lights. Beyond the diamond a group of wee little ones, the brothers and sisters attending? They were swarming and buzzing all over their own play field dancing like little faeries free from the regular rules of bedtime routines. Their own excitement electried the air around them.

Night time can be foreboding if it is enveloped in loneliness and detachment. It can seem like eternity gone sour. So many live under this kind of streetlight in our communities.......no fun there.....no sense of connection to the magic of possibilities. No playful feelings. The focus is solely on survival in the margins. Our human being needs encompass more than survival but when that's what is front and centre, the other needs are left out in right field........ And yet, if somehow the alone person can feel that welcoming sense of belonging to a team, to a family, to a group of friends who can show them that living under the lights doesn't have to be so frightening all alone, then survival becomes manageable.

Attachment to others, on a level playing field, and under the lights? It is what we all yearn for isn't it? We can't play the game without a team, and without knowing you're a part of it.

the magic market basket

I found a basket on my front porch.
It's empty.
It needs filling.
Though it looks like a non-descript market basket, one that you may see a neighbour carrying fresh produce in during her foray last summer to the local farmer's market, it was actually created by a woman who weaves to feed her family.

She weaves day and night.
Her young daughters weave alongside her.
Together, they receive pennies for their efforts.
Still, their efforts allow them to continue running their own business,
to continue reaching for a better life.

I want to fill this basket with nourishment.
Abundantly
A bountiful collection from my community
To the woman who weaves and to her community.

A listening ear
A few bandages for the little hurts
A fiddler to play music that weeps and reels
Fingertip touch to heal the scars
Smiles, miles and miles and miles of them.

Candles for the dark nights
Stars for wishing upon
Fleece for warmth
Bread and wine to share
Hands to help, to rock, to reach out

Unconditional love to help mend the big hurts
And a bouquet of summer field flowers for hope.
This basket is magical..........it will expand to include all that it needs to carry.
Care to put something else in it?

"Mom, that's so RANDOM......."

Have you been accosted by that word? It seems like it has taken over the world of words.........RANDOM. When my kids use it with me (it is the jargon of the day.....), they are using it to describe how they are perceiving whatever incident or story or comment i have shared with them. And given that they are lucky enough to have me as one of their role model social commentators in their lives, someone who speaks as a mult-tasking crazy woman, they throw this term at me with regularity.

My stories or comments seem disconnected to whatever else happens to be occuring, like its simply floating in the ether of other snippets with no threads to bind. I often observe the person who happens to be one who usually says something which triggers my leap in thinking standing there with one quizzical look on their face wondering where the heck my comment or my analogy came from. No "linky" the expression tells me. "The lady is unglued," they may be thinking. Hell, I don't really know what they are actually thinking though I do try to tone it down when I am confronted with one of those looks of dismay. Here's the scary thing though. Most of the time, the links sit pretty in my head! And every once in a while I have the pleasure to be bleeting away with another Randomumbler.....


Yes, I have to admit that my personal ticking brain makes links ambidextrously and its as natural as putting your pants on one leg at a time. YOU DO put your pants on one leg at a time don't you? You do wear pants don't you or are you one of those free floating kilt types?? Though I am left handed (and consequently in my right mind..........how many of you can BOAST about that, eh?? :) ), I do jump in as a right handed person every once in a while. Like raking for instance.....or using a hand mixer.....or mopping the floor. I switch back and forth depending on my mood. It bodes well for not getting bored or muscle fatigued while having to focus on the mundane. Perhaps when I switch over my handedness it is a trigger for my thinking to switch over too? Maybe that's why I do it, so I can mix up my imagination in order to "see" something from a different angle. I dont know..........this is a new thought RIGHT NOW AS I WRITE, but intriguing.........hmmmm.......physical switches lead to cogitive internal switches...... gee, i think there is a PhD dissertation in there somewhere.

However, I don't want you to get the idea that I talk out of both sides of my mouth. I will if I am in the process of trying to figure something out..........and I may sound wishy washy or an undecided waffler, but I think that's a different kind of talking out of both sides of my mouth.......this is all about processing stuff. I do have some staid and true, reliable beliefs which keep me on some kind of course of action even if my randomness seems to be getting the best of me. For example, I can't stand bullshit and will tango with anyone who tries to ring that bell. I also don't quite understand how someone who can behave one way in one part of their life and then behave another way in another part of their life. How can they keep their masks straight? I'd just screw it up.........wearing the wrong mask to the wrong party.

yes, I'm a randomist and it surely entertains me. But, sometimes it perplexes others, especially the logical blue people.....(i'm bright orange/RED on the INSIGHTS colour wheel of personalities......you know who you are..............the BLUE ISTJ's of the world. (aka......Meyers Brigg's personality indicator...........introverted, sensing, thinking, judging) This is the opposite to how I score on this particular test. I am an ENFP, my "EN" is more polared than the FP part.........It stands for extroverted, intuitive, feeling, perceptive. Just thought I'd drop this bit of info into the middle of this post, because, well I wanted to and because I'm writing about RANDOMness......... Confused?..............It's a wonderful state of mind ..........I live there!

Random thinking is foreplay for the mind really. Can't have enough foreplay those Kinsey sex experts say. Yes, you could say my cerebellum is turned on in a heightened manner.

This morning, as I sit down to write, I usually have one particular topic I want to sink my teeth into as a way to dig a little deeper into the meaning or reasons behind it. However, my reflections of the week on the surface look pretty random even to me. I can't seem to hone in on one of them fully enough to grab hold of it. I have a few drafts half written......thoughts captured for future possibilities and they don't seem to be ready to be finished. What seems to be stirring the ratatouille...........the summer harvest of plenty this morning is not known, except that TOO much has criss crossed with my path this week. Writing normally helps channel my energies in one direction, but not today. Writing helps me find meaning and links to my random muses, but not today.

Instead of trying to find meaning ahead of time, I decided to try to capture some of the ingredients as they are before they blend in or move away. As I mentioned already, has been a busy busy week, one full of interactions, great discussions, some big stressy things, and some jump out of your chair cheering (THIS happened twice this weekend........first when my son threw a guy out at the plate from left field to stop the onslaught of runs from the other team and consequently won MVP for the last game of the season..........rock on Maxie...........AND then in the bottom of the 13th inning, the tied game between the Jays and the Devil Rays, Greg Zaun hit a GRAND SLAM to end the game. Jamie and I, LEAPED out of our chairs pumping the air in magnificent JOY like we had just watched our team win the World Series instead of a regular game which in the big scheme of things isn't enough of a win to even get the Jays into the play-offs........but MAN it was FUN to take it in. I don't know what others do who don't partake in sports events. They miss out on those amazing moments).

Worry, compassion, humility, love, laughter, confusion, contentment, longings, wonderings, fear, courage, happiness, love again, frustration, up and down emotions, anxiety, pride, blood, sweat and tears...........relief....... and EVEN some AWARENESS filled the days and nights. Pretty typical week for all of us. Amazing the gamut of feelings which thread our experiences if we simply sit down and acknowlege what we may even possibly sum up as a week of "oh, nothing much happened......."

Stuff always happens..........SHIFTS happen too, regularly......are you in the middle of it making it happen, observing it happen, receiving some of the happens or letting some of it slip away? Are you acknowledging the happenings as randomly impacting you?

Still with me on this one?? Yes, I could easily jump from one topic to another as the week of reflections is TEEMING with titilating tidbits...........from Sister Sarah of Alaska now running mate of that Maverick McCain to thoughts on Obama.............to today's announcement of our own election..........gee...........south of the border, the election has been going on for 4 years and ours will begin today and end on October 14th. Short, sweet and less costly than the BILLIONS spent by the contenders ..........though I don't for a minute believe we need an election. Hmmmm what else......... from thoughts on the educational system in this province and the very bizarre concept of middle school as a best practises plan gone awry to the less than stellar choices for Leadership of the PC party of New Brunswick.........hello, where are the WOMEN???........from the ongoing behind the scenes discussion on the possibility of moving the Fredericton market to another locale....are they OUT of their minds????....................to the growing excitement of the upcoming Harvest Jazz and Blues Festival which begins this Wednesday.........



I hear the blues can set you free. I don't know about that, but they make me want to dance in a swaying kind of way..........howl at the moon too. It is strange how listening to a blues master sing from his heart makes you feel good.

Random!.................."Mom, that's so RANDOM........."

ooooo.............yaaaaa.....................got "the bottom of the foodchain random blues.........."

So, in no order....................here are a few stories churning the personal brain washing machine........

1. I tried to convince a man who has suffered from chronic pain for more than 20 years and can't take any heavy duty drugs to alleviate the pain enough to sleep through the night to seriously consider smoking a joint or two. God Bless Canada......... its' considered medicinal. Still, when I thought about the conversation after the fact while driving back to town, I was struck with how odd the conversation had been. I wonder if I broke any weird counselling rules.

2. I met a woman (the mother of the man living in chronic pain) who is attached to an oxygen tank 24/7 because of her chronic pulmonary disorder. She was a charming elderly woman who was sitting in her living room wearing a yellow housedress, the oxygen tube attached to her nose. She had curlers in her hair and she kept apologizing for how she looked........I thought it was GRAND that she cared enough to make sure that her hair was done even though she is stuck in her house and can't venture out anymore.

When it was time to leave, she grabbed my hand with both hands and looked right into my eyes and thanked me for coming. It dawn on me, right after processing the thoughts on the fact that I had tried to convince the man to smoke dope in order to get his life back, that when someone grabs hold of your hand with both of their hands, they are telling you something pretty terrific.....that you made an impact.

3. The other day as I was sitting on the patio at a restaurant having breakfast with the summer students, a woman I know who lives hand to mouth, who begs for money on the streets most days, tapped me on the shoulder to inform me that my parking meter expired but not to worry because she put a few more quarters in it. She also arranged for another person, her ex-husband who was also begging for money, to sit by my van to make sure it didn't run out again while I finished my "meeting." Honest to God! You gotta love that!! He was there sitting in front of my van when I returned to it.........he smiled at me, called me "dear" and told me the he had me covered........he "didn't want me to get a ticket."

4. About once a year, I seem to end up at the same house where a special needs family lives to help one of them apply for a disability. This most recent time it was different. I was there to fill out another application, but it was for the matriarch who has just found out she is dying of cancer. Tired, traumatized and so very frightened, we sat at her kitchen table as I gently engaged her in a conversation about her recent chemotherapy sessions. I was so struck by the fact that she and her family have barely coped all their lives and yet they never want help and are very wary of anyone looking in on them. Three adult children live there all with major cognitive and mental health issues...........their needs and direction will fall solely onto the lap of their father who is stretched himself by his limitations and his accumulated anxiety.

The feelings of dread and foreboding could easily have taken over the conversation especially because I had to ask her about her condition. Somehow however, we spoke of faith in God and the beauty of the nature around us. Somehow the conversation leaped up and grabbed hold of sharing small moments we had experienced individually when loneliness had been replaced by a sense of realizing we weren't alone......... by the time I left their home, they were making plans to go for a drive to watch the sun set on the river.

5. Jean Vanier speaks of the fact that God doesn't expect us to do extraordinary things. Rather, He wants us to do ordinary things with extraordinary love? This is where life is felt the deepest. ...in the interactions we have and the connections we make when we step into a seemingly random conversation or a random situation..........making differences in each other's lives. I work with the most interesting thoughtful people who teach me this every single day by their actions.

6. I have been perseverating over Van Morrison's song, The Philosopher's Stone and it has kept me company often while driving to and fro this week. I love the harmony and the words to it. I love how it starts off quietly and builds momentum.....so much so that I have been tossing and turning the whole concept of the philosopher's stone in my head all week, wondering what the analogy is for life and i realized it is pretty simple. We may not be able to turn a piece of lead into a piece of gold. But, boy oh boy can we ever turn how we see and do and feel every single day just be recognizing the sunlight reflections when we set out to make a difference. All of a sudden lead turns into gold. All of sudden we realize that the mystery of the beauty in the ordinary reflects gold if we let it be. You don't have to be an alchemist to know the secret of turning lead into gold. You just have to be open to recognizing it.

I'm off to learn how to make Chinese dumplings with a few girlfriends who are such fun, so gifted and are full of ZIPITY-DO-DAH.......and I'll end with one cool happening.....this morning, THIS story was read to a small congregation by their Minister. I have no direct affiliation with this church and yet this morning they were introduced to a crooked little tree. I hope one of them now sees that little tree with a new pair of golden light eyes. I'm thrilled by that.........more than you'll ever know. Words help to make shifts from lead to gold......even if they seem random, which of course they never are. Neither are actions. Neither are events, feelings, and thoughts.

faded glory.

The FREX (Fredericton Exhibition) is in town, and I spent some of last evening there with my son and his friend. The word that comes to mind right away is the latest one to describe everything a little "off" and outdated............sketchy. Rough, dented, dirty and a tad unreliable this annual event which is always an end of summer highlight around here looks like it has seen better days. So do the carnies who were running the show. But, I guess that's all a part of it. And maybe carnivals have always been sketchy, even when I was a kid attending the CNE in Toronto. Maybe I just didn't notice the faded glory all around me because of my excitement of swirling in the tilt-a-whirl, zipping upside down in the zipper, zooming backwards on the Matterhorn and seeking out a delicious sno-cone.

As a parent standing around with camera in hand, and watching the scruffy little ragamuffins scamper on and off the rides which seem to have seen better days, I couldn't help but think..........hmmmmm.........................sketchy!

For the life of me, I couldn't slip back into the days when attending the end of summer carnival was magical. Perhaps it was just my frame of mind, or perhaps I knew one too many faces there and know some of the struggling stories behind them. Reality reigned over the magic of the place.

This week's thematic photography word is "faded." Carmi, you are so timely! Love it. If you are interested in seeing more faded angles, check out Written Inc.

ego, definitions and sticky labels

We are what we believe we are

C.S. Lewis

There is a real eagerness as well as pressure from ourselves and others to grab hold of a label or two as a means to define oneself and then to try our very best to stay within the parameters of those darn labels. It makes it easier to "understand" ourselves and others if we know that perhaps we have some of the same stickers on our foreheads or that perhaps our most visible labels are widely different. We THINK we know how to handle the other person. We BELIEVE we know what is expected of ourselves. Then we become walking, talking, thinking, feeling, doing self-fulfilling prophesies don't we? I give you what you want......you give me what I want and we leave it at that.

Spontaneity and authenticity not to mention genuineness only amount to fleeting concepts in this kind of awareness encounter. It seems to me that when this occurs, especially in a long term more meaningful relationship with someone, it marks the beginning of the end especially if the labels are negatively perceived or even perceived as having an expiry date. If there is no growth, no ongoing transformation recognized, we grow weary. Judgement, accusations, criticism festers under these circumstances. If we are expected "to be" one thing and we don't provide this, or we provide it in a different capacity than what is expected, we are dismissed, passed up, ignored. We don't fit the little box they have put us in.


Labels and defining ourselves is more pervasive than just scratching the surface because they impact our feelings and how we act. What we think about ourselves, how we perceive it is all tied in with the judgement of ourselves and from others. We can get holy wrapped in this cellophane, stamped with an expiry date because what happens is that there doesn't seem to be any new growth. We can't see it in ourselves, or worse we stop trying to evolve through personal learning, and others only see us as as a piece of driftwood rather than a living tree. Growth is life. You stop growing, you stop living. Might as well be a shell of your own existance.


We are like sponges soaking in other's perceptions of who we are, what we represent, where we fit in the greater scheme of things, and what makes us tick. Though I believe we are all born with certain gifts which if we are lucky match our personalities and the careers somehow float down into, we are more than what we do for a living, or do as human beings. However, some of our "labels" are deeply imbedded and they do impact the vibes we send out to the world and what we have to offer to others. Though they change shape by the opportunities we seek out to offer them up, they are honed by the amount of use they get and the amount of awareness one has of these particular label gifts.



So much of what we read and see these days on television encourages us to strip away all of our labels because they represent what is termed "ego," and portend to be in the way of ourselves "be"-coming more compassionate for others and for ourselves. Our egos act as hard shells that encase the way we see the world, and the way we see ourselves in the world and they are fed by the labels we stick on your foreheads and parade around. We are encouraged to speak the words "I am" and not add a descriptive to the end of the two words because it allows us to delve deeper into a spiritual core which emanates within us rather than skim our external surfaces to find meaning.

Don't you find it all so confusing?? I mean on one hand, definitions seem to be what people expect and on the other hand we are told that we minimalize ourselves, we compartmentalize ourselves and our way of looking at the world if we use labels.



I am.

I am.

I am.

I am what? Some floating unanchored being?

I dont know if I would ever be able to do this consistently, and I don't know if I want to. The very idea makes me light headed, like I've lost my footing as well as the oxygen to breathe. Having no focal point to describe myself dislodges the anchor that keeps me from floating away. Maybe I'm just too conditioned to strip away "ego." Maybe I am not quite a believer, but it seems to me that this ego offers anchoring balance and perspective, and yet I know that for much of my adulthood I have been involved in a dance of trying to figure out who I am through what i do. I always figured that if I could figure it out perhaps I would find that sense of inner settling I long for. Now, it seems I've gone about it all wrong.


What I do is not who I am. I am not what I do. I guess. Heck, who the hell knows anymore??

It's all so daunting to rip the labels off the forehead and wander nakedly amongst the ether of spiritual awakening! Can I just hold onto a few of those labels? Or maybe I could simply define myself as a human being who just happens to love counselling and teaching? Can I just have one day when I can call myself a writer? I won't burn in hell for doing that now would I? My ego and me have been friends for a while. It's hard to say goodbye to him.

Funny that i see my ego attached to something masculine. It does seem like a boy word. hmmm........

flash of recognition

Real friendship or love is not manufactured or achieved by an act of will or intention. Friendship is always an act of recognition....in the moment of friendship, two souls suddenly recognize each other. It could be a meeting on the street, or at a party or a lecture, or just a simple banal introduction, then suddenly there is the flash of recognition and the embers of kinship grow. There is an awakening between you, a sense of ancient knowing.

John O'Donahue

I don't believe all friendships reach this level of ancient knowing as Father O'Donahue describes. Some seem to be destined to awaken our senses, and challenge our reliance on thought inducing logic. In fact, I daresay these friendships unleash us from the illusion of logic.

These are kinships which seem to have been designed to stir, to comfort, and to offer a chance to have the courage to look under your own skin where our most intimate secrets dwell. There is a feeling of having known this other person before and yet there seems to be no logical way this could ever have happened in a physical sense. Perhaps all friendships have that potential if both parties are willing to trust deeply enough to fully share feelings and thoughts. I have my doubts though because it takes an act of mind and spirit intimacy that seems to have a special touch outside of the two human beings. There is more at work than one can grasp with a walk with our thoughts.

Ancient knowing friendships are rare fossils inbedded in the opportunity to take a leap in faith. Though we often get stuck on the "how did this relationship happen........" or "why is this special person in my life......." because we are seekers of answers. We somehow figure there has to be some sane explanation to go along with the arrival of such a friend. It's the way we've been taught. Cause and effect. Action and reaction. Question and answer. There has to be a logical reason why to everything right? Then, one of these ancient knowing people step RIGHT in the middle of your sites. We try our best to align and even compartmentalize them........asking over and over again why have we met? But, I've come to the conclusion that thinking about it just gets in the way of simply accepting the gift of awareness.

We tend to strive for a beautiful landscaped life that is pleasing to the eye. There are no big surprises when everything is cultivated and manicured.......where the grass is freshly mowed in a pattern, where the garden is planned to flow outward in an array of geometric order. Our expectations somehow get aligned with this desire for control. It is what we think will settle us in a sense of peaceful contentment. No weeds, no crazy daisy sticking out where it shouldn't be. It sometimes takes an "ancient knowing" presence to pull us out of the seemingly ordered world into one that is unpredictable and chaotic, where thinking simply can get in the way of recognizing a much larger pattern emanating from the cosmos.

So, what happens if you are pushing through life with your head down, and your mind and body closed to the spirit of these type of connections? What if you do recognize the special friendship in your mind, but don't take it one step further by sticking your hand out (or in the virtual world, emailing your touch) to acknowledge them? What if you're too shy or tentative to take the first step in saying to the other person........."I'm sensing something bigger than logic.......?"

One flash of recognition.........has the power to reflect a prism of colours, a new perspective, and a much more interesting symphony of massive crazy daisy blooms to enlighten and brighten a much wilder garden of delight. We plant ourselves in the middle of a predictable pattern we've tried to create for ourselves, we'll never be able to recognize the shared beauty of ancient knowing an anam cara presents with an open hand and a knowing sparkle in the eyes.

cookies and change

Labour Day, the last day of summer holidays before the onslaught of school. It is a bittersweet day always as it is the end as well as the anew. And, just like it was in some master plan, the air changed last night. Gone were the warm gusts of summer breezes felt on Sunday morning. Instead, we awoke to a September nip in the air. Sure there will be several summery days in the coming month, but there is the awareness that we must embrace all of them knowing we are sliding right into autumn.

I love September. I love the energy it exudes, the harvests it produces, and the beginnings it offers. I love the sweetness of cut grass and hay, the aroma of the phlox, and the touches of orange already spreading on some of the trees. I love the fact that I can head down the hill from my house and buy fresh morning picked corn and plump tomatos, crisp green beans and juicy blueberries for dinner from the stall set up on the side of the old highway. I love seeing the rowers out on the river in the early morning when I'm heading across the bridge to work. I love seeing the university students loping around learning about this new city they have found themselves in, having just moved into their dorms and apartments on the weekend, anxiously anticipating the challenges, both social and academic, that hover in the near distance.

I also love watching the little ones tentatively taking steps down the street with new backpacks strapped on like little turtles carrying their homes on the way to the bus stop. Little ones and not so little anymore ones congregating at the bus stop all in anticipation of the world of learning at the end of the ride.


September offers up transitional firsts........the ones which carry big life meanings for us as individuals, and at this time of year, most of them are connected to school. It conjures up hopes and fears for the individuals directly involved, but also impacts the people who nurture them too because change in the life of one ripples out to impact the lives of others. We all feel the winds of transitions.

Change is never held inside a cookie jar with the lid on it. It can't be contained no matter how hard one tries. The lid is always off the cookie jar and that's the way it should be, though sometimes change happens so quickly that we are left trying to replenish the cookies over and over again......we can't keep up with the demand. Sometimes, people tiptoe over to that inviting jar and grab handfulls when we aren't paying attention. Before we know it, change has occured, the cookies have been consumed, and we're left starring at the crumbs left at the bottom of the jar........ We're left wondering how we missed out on the feast of milk and cookies. Time and hunger ebbed and flowed and we were too busy sweeping and stirring and yearning and doing that we didn't look up to see the growth of those around us who were consuming the cookies of change.

This past weekend, we looked up and saw that grown ups had replaced the little children we not so long ago made sand castles with. The little ones who needed our full attention down at the beach or around the campfire roasting marshmallows, were now sitting with the adults talking about their September transitions. When did they sneak by to grab a few growth cookies?? One of them begins his foray at university in the big city of Halifax, far away from the hub of Spencer's Island and every time I looked at him this past weekend, all I could see was the little guy who sat on the back of the four wheeler holding onto his Dad........... a cookie in his hand. He's off to study political science and history. His big brother is entering his 4th year..........already!! His year is one of being on the edge of big changes. Another has returned to the small community having graduated with a Science teaching degree and wonderful memories of winning the National soccer championships, ready to step back into the little country school in Advocate to begin her career. She will make the best teacher! I saw that in her when she was 5 years old.........and now she's about to fulfill what seemed to be a destiny kind of thing.

September is all about change, or maybe its just the time of year we acknowledge the fact that it happens no matter how hard you try to keep the lid on the change cookie jar. It can be surprising to see how time simply marches, whether you're paying attention or not. It is what it does best. It marches back and forth from the cookie jar. Thank God we have September to make us take notice.

To Jamie, Matthew and Katie...........may this September of changes for you three be full of your favourite cookies, and may you always have a glass of ice cold milk to dip them in. Here's to a year of eye opening beginnings for all of us.

softening to the suffering

For faith is not the clinging to a shrine but an endless pilgrimage of the heart. Audacious longing, burning songs, daring thoughts, an impulse overwhelming the heart, usurping the mind -- these are all a drive towards serving Him who rings our hearts like a bell.

It is as if He were waiting to enter our empty perishing lives. To rely on our faith would be idol worship. We have only the right to rely on God. Faith is not an insurance, but a constant effort, constant listening to the eternal voice. Abraham Heschel.


My own thoughts? Perhaps we do feel His presence when we feel a sense of emptiness......when we recognize in ourselves the need to let go of the reins of control. This is a constant when one lives in a marginalized state of mind and soul. It zaps us of energy and spirit when trying to do it alone...........when we continue to grapple for answers and sustenance to no avail....... like a lost thirsty soul in the desert....like trying paddle upriver against the wind.

There comes a point when one's clenched hands, open and turn outward in a gesture for help. There comes a time when meditative silence is the only alternative after avoiding it like it was the enemy.

I wonder ....... it seems like we need to RISK stripping down to the bare bonedness, down to the core essentials of who we are and what matters before we can, on our knees look up and see His presence, to feel His radiance. Because............it is only then that He can see and feel us too. If we risk opening up the part of us that rarely see any light, perhaps we find our listening ears that may hear the eternal voice?

WE cover ourselves, body and soul with a lanolin that repels the divine touch. Why is that? Does our fear of feeling such transparent vulnerability, of feeling a light headed weakness come from not being able to fully trust that its alright to present our own messy selves?

Nothing permeates our holy core until we dip ourselves in a clarity which then wipes away the noisy life residue............our cravings to be loved, to be accepted, to be assured, to be fed can only be addressed if we are on the verge of perishing in the wilderness. This is when we stop clinging to comfort and learn how to walk on.......

betrayal

How to defend yourself against betrayal: Top 10 recommendations

1. Go live in a cave

2. Don't stick your neck out for anyone

3. Stop making friends

4. Silence yourself. Don't share any information, aspirations, communications, complications with anyone.

5. Distrust everone you encounter including the important people in your life for they are the most apt to betray.

6. Give up loving people.

7. If you have to go out, don't look anyone in the eye.

8. Stop sharing

9. Cross the busy street alone. Stop relying on a friend to hold your hand.

10. Lose all expectations that others care.

In reality, there is no defence for arming yourself against the nastiness of betrayal. If we are out there interacting with others, sticking your neck out, taking risks, living life, you're bound to be a target of it every now and then. We've all felt its sting, and we've all been the unthinking self consumed eeejit on the other end too. Ewww, when I think about being the eeejit, I feel a wash of shame flood over me.

How I feel when I have been betrayed?

lonely

tainted

unloved

ugly

discarded.

I will remember this feeling................as a way to be more respectful and kind to others in the future. It's a horrible, horrible feeling isn't it? It's all in how we behave towards our fellow human beings that matters. What else matters more than looking out for one another with love and honour?

love, love, love.................is all you need....

I don't plan on adhering to these 10 recommendations. It's not in me. I thrive on the interactions and connections I have every single day. But, I think I need some time to let go of these feelings I have after experiencing a big betrayal and move on. I have had the worst time trying to write over the past week because of the bitterness I taste and seem to be holding onto. Somehow it has to be resolved, but right now things are complicatedly impacting my thinking, feeling and doing.........every time I sit down to write, I'm consumed with hurt and anger and can't get beyond it. This isn't the place where I want to write from because what seems to emerge is vindictiveness and bile. Not good. I've had enough of feeling sorry for myself.

Gotta find beauty again. Gotta find my confidence again because it has taken a serious blow. However, if I look at it philosophically, remembering what I have read, what I have learned from my friends, and what I have learned through my own desire to seek out a deeper awareness of faith, I can see this latest setback as another chance to strip away that ego defensive stuff and recognize that I am but one cell tucked away.

Transformative? Maybe a little step towards that. Do these frigging steps ever get easy? Do we ever get an easy step ever??

I think it's normal to want to lash out after being cornered by a slap in the face betrayal. In the long run however it's not going to help matters if I react with the feelings I'm harbouring. It'll only make it worse. So, I'll be back when the run of shit luck blows away with the grey cloud that seems to be hovering over my umbrella. I just need some time to look after my wounds.

wild possibilities

What would think if I sang out of tune,

Would you stand up and walk out on me.

Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,

And I'll try not to sing out of key.

Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
He gets high with a little help from his friends,
Oh I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.

Such inspiration it is to have friends who believe in you so wholeheartedly that they would help you unconditionally. Friends help you capture, as John O'Donahue expressed, "the wild possibilities in you...." Sometimes its all it takes to set you going down a new path with new eyes and a new spring in your step. If someone you have a deep connection with, someone you've shared many sips of that life wine with is supporting you in a new endeavour or encourages you to take a risk life seems much less daunting.

Is there anything more life affirming to know someone believes in you enough to go the extra mile? Only if you stretch yourself to help a friend see their own wild possibilities will you feel it more deeply. I can't think of anything more heartwarming than helping, even if it is just a small gesture, than helping a friend see their own wild possiblities.

Do you need anybody? It sure helps sometimes.

Fredericton Market Colour

Bella Vista apples dripping in dewdrops.......the first of the season. Don't you love their name? This morning I headed to my local market before the crowds arrived. I love the pace there at that time of day, the vendors focused on setting up their products, sipping on coffee and preparing for the onslaught by mid morning, while people like me can take in the colour and abundance of this years' produce and flowers.

The Boyce Market in Fredericton is also a great place for local artisans to sell their creations. This morning, the rays of the late summer sun were warmly captured by the stunning glass catchers which spun slowing in the breeze. I found them mesmerizing. I would love to have a whole window, one which the morning sun streams through, covered in these ornaments. Sun colour......enlightening prisms.

My favourite time of the week......Saturday mornings at the Market are always abundantly full of colour.......whether it's in mid-January on a gloomy winter day, or in August when the sun can't get brighter.