Snowy Solstice....as planned?

While the wine in my cup formed ice crystals, I stood close to the winter solstice fire, its sparks crackling up into the snowy air and spoke to the person huddled beside me about reiki healing. I was quite interested in this man's journey to becoming a reiki master.....the whys and hows........my unsaturated curiosity piqued by wanting to know about energy, about interconnecting through intuitiveness. And all the while I'm learning more about a process of touch therapy without laying hands I'm thinking of how cool it was to be having this discussion in the middle of a snowstorm, while celebrating an ancient seasonal, celestial transition.

It never fails. There are always interesting conversations around a campfire....whether it's in the middle of winter or on a sunkissed beach.....the fire pulls people in and offers a dreamy opening to share without conditions.

Others roasted apples, sang songs, and warmed their hands on our blazing fire while huddling close. I jumped in from time to time to add my voice to the open air harmony. At one point, I looked over and watched my children surrounded by their friends enjoying the all ages celebration of life and love and belonging. It warmed me to my core. The snow may have seemed like a hampering obstacle for many that night, but it acted as a means of cocooning with people we share much of our lives with.

Our clothes captured the smokey essence of pine, birch and ash offerings. It is an aroma which lingers far beyond the moment and I love it. We didn't know how much the blizzard had moved onto "the ridge.".... the location of our party. So we carried on like fools in need of adventure. Fireworks blasted through the flakes, filling the close sky with oddly summer colours. Oooo's and Ahhhh's reminiscent of Canada Day slipped out of our collective chatter. Fireworks amidst the furious flakes is highly recommended! As soon as it was over, someone threw more wood onto the fire and our attention pulled back to the flames.

Eventually, we returned to the house ready to pack up and head out for home early. Plans changed drastically however when we pulled out of the long driveway and onto a completely whited out country road. You couldn't see a damn thing including any semblance of a road. And before we knew it, we retraced our path in reverse (there was no place to turn around) and joined the warm happenings inside. Song and wine poured as we huddled comfortably inside while the blizzard bellowed. The kids settled into borrowed pyjamas and the excitement of a massive sleepover ......

A little after midnight as the wind howled, 4 of us along with 3 dogs bundled up and headed out to the snow covered road to walk down the road to another friend's house where more beds were available and others who had left earlier were waiting for us. All of the kids were tucked in for the night in the Beckley household.....safe and warm and loved and tickled they were in the middle of an adventure.

Almost a foot of snow had already fallen and no end was in sight. We trundled and trudged together, following a track left by some crazy person who had been on the road in a their pickup. The snow came down in a fury with a stinging bite from the whipped up wind, nipping your face like nettles. The conditions were frightening, but the sense of adventure hiking into a maritime winter storm was a tingling affirmation of life. We all felt it. Nature can be so humbling I thought as we turned off the abandoned road and down the driveway where a warm woodstove, and irish cream beckoned. I have never experienced a walk like that before and thanked God I wasn't all alone. It was so bleak in its isolation. The whole landscape was a monochromatic void of life, except the 4 crazy people looking for a bed. I was glad it wasn't a manger waiting at the end of the journey.

........We slept through most of the power outage last night.....

The storm left the area under a thick blanket of snow......the country and the city both were at a standstill for a day as everyone dug out. A white Christmas in the Maritimes is a guarantee....and.............

Today, our days begin to get longer. The very thought makes me hopeful.

ps. I was also told that the light around me indicates I should learn reiki..........turns out my internal "energy" is conducive for healing. hey, I've got that going for me as I head into 2009. Who needs a candle to light the way when one has a blue light aura to plug into?

drama in all its glory.

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

I am drawn to this picture.

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

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

life. stress. bewilderment.

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

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

Some would simply see it as too much drama.

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

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

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

I feel blessed. I feel very much alive.

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

love the smile, Joe.

He calls me "dear." I call him Joe. He lives in my community. We chat every week at the market....at the same spot where he plies his trade.....busking without an instrument. Our conversations run the gamut, from politics to social issues. He "catches me up" on what is going on in his life. I offer some encouragement and a couple of laughs. Joe teaches me much more than I will ever teach him.....not that he's any older than me, but because he lives outside of the proverbial box and sees life, society, love and honesty from a perspective tempered by a hard life.

Today, he let me take his picture for my blog. I told him I was going to post it so everyone could see the sparkle blue of his smiling eyes. He laughed.......and stated......"I bet I'll scare the shit out of them, dear...."

nah..... this is the same man I wrote about last summer....here's the link.

Joe was the first person to offer me a hug this morning .... and a hearty Merry Christmas as I headed towards the market building. He has a big kind heart behind those tatoos and grizzly beard.

Merry Christmas to you Joe. See you in the New Year, my friend.

quiet......shhhhhhh

Light one candle. Move closer to the warm tiptoe hush of an internal quiet. Take a breath. exhale.......

How does one let the dust settle to feel the quiet beyond the mummered trappings humming chaotic thoughts? How does one attain a stillness reached only from the silencing of the mind of the soul? A wild cacophony resonates, bellowing over what needs to be heard. Perhaps it is a defense mechanism. Perhaps when we silence our minds, we are confronted with a truth we aren't ready to face. There is a fear which stops us from entering into this type of dialogue.
It's easier to keep busy. Busy hands, busy feet, busy mind, busy life. If we remain so, we justify our time and project an image of productivity and therefore seem content with the status quo. It's easier to avoid our inner comtemplations by remaining actively engaged in life activity, than to try to tackle what may be the most important task we have as individuals........to hear the discourse of the silent mind. Why? Because it is so much more difficult to reach that stirring place. We are fearful of the quiet.

The quiet mind is where we reflect, and try to connect with what is meaningful. It is where truth dwells. Hard hurtful truth entangled with soft welcoming love. And if our goal in life, is to love like you have never been hurt? Well, I guess we just have to recognize that there is risk, but that we must trust that love propels the journey....that love burrows into our quietness......that love lights the candle.

Our lives are never completely still. Our minds are never completely silent. I'm beginning to recognize that the deeper the stillness and the longer the silence, the more I am able to listen to the words hidden behind the mummerings. For behind these comfort stealing mummerings is a hushing holiness where the dialogue with God just may take place....

It makes me wonder.............if I was to succeed in silencing my mind enough to meet God face to face, what would I ask Him? What would you ask Him? And what would He ask of you and me?

let me light that candle......and breathe.

Inspired by the Thematic photography prompt this week over at Carmi's place....quiet.

Huron Carol

This is the first Canadian Christmas hymn, written in the early 1600's by Jesuit Father Jean de Brebeuf. Right after he wrote this hymn, he was ceremoniously murdered by the Iroquois confederacy, who went on to virtually obliterate the Hurons and their culture. They were encouraged in this by the British colonial interests who were seeking control of French claimed territory, much of which was Huron territory originally. The descendents, not many, live in a few villages in the province of Quebec, but their language is mostly lost.....floating in the history of the complicated birth of this nation we call Canada.

Bruce Cockburn also sings a beautiful rendition of this song too.

The Delicious Dish.

THE most hilarious Christmas skit ever....a classic from Saturday Night Live. For some reason it has been pulled from Youtube and the NBC venue only has a snip of the whole segment. However, I found it on another blog.......follow this link......and then click on "delicious dish."

I dare you. NO! I double dare you not to laugh. Alec Baldwin is the prince of deadpan comedy.

regrets, I've had a few....dreams one or two....

In life we all have an unspeakable secret, an irreversible regret, an unreachable dream, and an unforgettable love. Diego Marchi.

Tonight, my family and I joined a few others to decorate the local community kitchen. The few boxes of decorations, stored for 50 weeks of the year in my basement, are hauled into the dining room area after the dinner has been served and the place has been cleaned up for the day. In the quiet of the early evening, we begin by pulling out the worn out treasures......the motley looking tree, the garlands and wall hangings, the bows and ornaments.....and assess the array we have to work with. This year, a few colleagues from work donated some new decorations to add a bit of zip to the festive look.

The soup kitchen no question is a cluttered, undersized muddled mish mash of donations. The arborite is worn to the bone.....the chairs, recycled vintages from various boardrooms and offices have most definately seen better days. It's relatively clean (definately the kitchen area is) though the lingering odour, especially at this time of year is a compelling blend of unwashed winter wear, cooking grease and lingering life spices hits you as soon as you walk in the place.

It's an aroma I'm used to..... not so for my children. It is a rank of stark reality to them and it wraps them in wonder of a relatively unknown different world. Even though they have been in the place several times, I can see their discomfort and determination to help make it a little more welcoming and festive for the people who frequent it. I also know that they look forward to offering their efforts every year. It's a good thing.

As we begin to puff up last years bows and turn the little Christmas tree into something more presentable (it reminds me of the tree in Charlie Brown's Christmas.....just needs a little love), I too look around at the empty chairs and the long lines of tables. In no time I begin to hear the stories, the regrets, the dreams, the loves.......I begin to feel the loss, the sadness, the grief, the frustrations. I also see the mingling apparitions where fellowship is felt in the gathering of souls....the volunteers, the workers, and of course the human beings who come for the food. They come for the food, but they also come for the touch of another.

They come for sustenance...body and soul. We need both. For survival.

I found the above quote this morning and it stayed with me all day as I contemplated my own secrets, regrets, dreams and loves. Tonight, as I looked down at the wellworn tables and the overused empty chairs where folks had just sat an hour before to eat their daily meal, I was reminded that every single person on this planet, no matter where they dine or dwell, carry with them similar packages.....unspeakable, irreversible, unreachable, unforgettable.....


our life scars......our war wounds......our imperfections

some just scratch the surface

some puncture deep into the crevasse of our spirits

some we share

and some we take to our graves.

monday morning chuckle

What all the ladies are asking for this Christmas.

We watched this Saturday Night Live video on Friday night and cracked right up. It's good to know Mr. Timberlake can spoof himself.

There's another video too I was trying to find, the classic Alec Baldwin skit with Molly Shannen. It's not on Youtube, but will keep looking for it.

Oh, and I learned a new word this weekend.......thanks to my lovely friend Helen.

Manscaping. I hear it's all the rage. Don't quite understand why, but I think it has to do with what exactly?? Is it organic?? It worries me that we may have a global wax shortage if we aren't careful. Anyone out there know anything about this phenom?

don we now our gay apparel....

I awoke this morning with the desire to hear some glorious Christmas carols. I've been waiting for that internal "on" switch to be kick started because up until now, the whole festive season was taking a detour around my soul. Granted, for the past 12 days the only thing I've wanted to do was put my head under a towel and my face over a hot bowl of water and steam my sinuses, and then crawl back on the couch and go back to sleep. That hasn't helped the mood or the ambience. I've been one miserable snotty wench in need of a shot of adrenaline.

But this morning as I stood in the front doorway waiting for the puppy to behave and return to the housefold (she's now doing her best to drive Lily crazy with her unrelenting desire to hump her head), I realized that the fresh air was finally making its way to my head. Morning had broken and so had my cold. And I swear to God, I heard angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold........or was it incessant barking from the little dustmops our neighbours refer to as dogs? No, I distinctly heard the angels.....over and above the high pitched rodent yappiness.

It wasn't even a midnight clear........I distinctly heard them touch their harps.

Oh, I have made a few attempts to capture the miracle of the season. The mantle is decorated nicely with ivy, candles and little lights....my wreath looks pretty hanging above it with a new big shiny gold bow bursting out of the greenery. I spent a couple of hours wrapping the back deck with garlands and new outdoor lights I had just purchased only to enjoy it for two hours before half string died out. I have yet to find the energy to unwrap and return the friggers....or maybe I was afraid I'd blow a gasket at the customer service counter over the shoddy merchandise and be thrown in jail, charged with uttering expletive threats. I can see the headlines now....

Phlegmy Filly Flips out.....and Cries Festive Foul!

Family and Friends Faint in Fright.

It's a good thing that my head is finally clearing......the constant dull throb is almost gone. Almost....as I take a break to blow some of my brains out once more..... When I look around this place I realize how cluttered and shoddy it looks.......ooooops and I look too! No wonder I felt ugly all week. I AM! I've let everything around me and myself fall into an abyss of neglect. No wonder no one wanted to hang with me. Who would? I have sounded and looked like an old hag whose life has been one big burden who God had left behind as a miserable mistake.

What a mess! Sure, I've been going about buying gifties, picking up stocking stuffers, and you know what? I don't have a freakin' clue what I've purchased or WHERE I've even hidden them! Good thing I've always enjoyed a good treasure hunt. Unfortunately I have no clues to lead me. They were thrown out with the garbage full of tissues. Gotta make a list and stick to it. Gotta NOT freak out over the length of the list too. That will be a challenge. But, hey!! I'm up for it!! Just need the right music......Just need to stop and let the fresh air fill my head and lungs.....let the sunlight pour its energy into my pores..... and soon the chestnuts on the open fire will be a delightful activity once again. Bring on Bowie and Bing! This little drummer girl is ready to ratta-tat tat!



Yes, but my spirits are rising......I'm not perseverating on myself. NO! The fire in my soul isn't a fever....it's enthusiasm. I have this urge to make a more clear headed attempt at writing my annual Christmas letter, which up until now was coming out like a dirge rather than a sparkly piece of prose. I have this desire to pull out the old recipes and then pass them onto my daughter to do something with. I WANT to see the gawdy well loved ornament wreath adorning the living room again, and the angels, and holly and jingle bells...... all of a sudden I'm looking forward to the sweat inducing struggle to put up the tree STRAIGHT, to decorate with all of those ornaments my husband and I have been collecting since our wedding day 21 years ago. Each adorned with special meaning.


Please God, let the lights work!





Wow! Could it be the angels we have heard on high, singing sweetly o'er the plains............or simply the accumulated drugs in my system echoing its joyous strains? No! It's the angels dammit! They are singing again. Just in time for a week of Christmas luncheons with friends and colleagues.....and JUST in TIME for this family to get their act together for a our annual open house shindig next Saturday.......just in time to send out cards, get the parcels on a bus to Ontario......just in time to gather with friends to celebrate winter solstice out in beautiful Keswick Ridge......just in time to enjoy the miracle of the birth of the Prince of Peace. Thank God!

Gee, all of a sudden the thought of wearing my party dress is appealing! Bring on the little black dress, I'm up for the dance.

So, where to start? Well, after I make the traditional Sunday breakfast......bacon and pancakes, which I am already doing as I write this....such a multi-tasker am i, am i........ and then go deal with the pen marks recently scribbled on the sofa cushion by an errant puppy (I thought she was on top of Lily's head, not chewing a PEN on the sofa!!).......I will start at my toes and work up. I can always think better when my toenails are painted red. I can sing better too.

I love Sundays. I love this time of year. Let it shine merry and bright. Let us don our gay apparel....and have some fun.




hmmmm, where are those antlers?? I hope the kiddies are game still.... :) The parents always are....

you see its getting late....

Do not judge me until you've walked in my shoes.
Do not assume you know how I'm feeling.
You havent even asked.
Or maybe you don't even care.
I thought you did.
Do not expect me to understand your actions when you havent expressed them to me.
Do not toss worn out cliches at me and think they are comforting.
Or maybe it was meant as a dismissal?
Did I miss something?

I want you to care, but i can't make you.
I can only wish.

Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way.
Maybe I need to ask....
How are you?

I've always believed we are all equal in the eyes of God. Why then do people feel they have the right to stand back and unleash the power of emotional manipulation on others as a means of judging? It seems to me that we have become individuals who react from a place of our own pain instead of love.....it's become our "go to" resting centre in our souls. Do our own feelings of rejection and abandonment feed our reactions to others? What is the problem here?

We minimize, criticize....where is the empathize? Is it too much to care?

You should....
Why don't you.....
Get off your ass.......
Stop whining.......
What's your problem.....
You think you have it bad.....what about me?


Here's a quarter, call someone who cares.



or worse.

thunderous silence....

Is it because we are so undisciplined by our own blinding woundedness that we can't take on other's emotional pain? Has the world reached their empathy saturation point? Our emotional literacy is dyslexic.

Its not that I'm wishing for human beings to become softie bleeding hearted touchy feely blatherers. That doesn't work either. It only pours more salty tears into an open wound and blends it into a more ruminating mess of pity. A pity party leads to nowhere. A touch of sympathy is fine when it's timely and appropriately shared. Too much and it sends someone into a pit of emotional quicksand. Everyone remains stuck in that kind of helpless pit.

Kindness.....lets hope it hasn't become extinct because if this global place has lost the ability to grow in kindness, we have lost our way to the place in our hearts where we can love one another. I don't want to live in a place like that and I certainly don't want to be around others who have lost the ability to be accepting of the important people in their lives who may be suffering.

I used to love singing this song around a chapel campfire (it came to me while i was writing this piece...out of the blue, like a little loving tap.....the memories and the harmony still offers a hush of comfort to me even after all these years. I can feel their kinship even though they are far far away......

"Think of your fellow man
Lend him a helping hand
Put a little love in your heart

You see it's getting late
Oh please don't hesitate
Put a little love in your heart

And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see"


So..........how are you? I genuinely want to know.

keys

"There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception."Aldous Huxley

Emotional literacy......this is the topic I covered yesterday in my workshop. Self awareness is the key to unlocking our understanding of the feelings which underlie our thinking. Its not always pretty. In fact, sometimes it opens a door to a room haunted by shame and doubt..... destructively hurtful feelings too painful to look at for very long without turning away and slamming the door shut.

If you keep looking though, if you keep unlocking the doors, eventually you will find a comforting room where forgiveness dwells. I imagine to find a smiling friend there.....one who is open to accepting me, warts and all.....one who can help me change my perception by holding up a different mirror which reflects beauty and acceptance....one where love and a sense of belonging fills the air.

Emotional literacy is so much easier to read when there are others there to help you hold the self-awareness key.....and to hold your hand.

somebody cry why, why, why?

I left this morning in the bitter cold and headed east and then south to Saint John to deliver a 3 day workshop to a group of frontline staff. The temperatures dropped drastically. It had turned the wet lash flakes that seemed to playfully cover the landscape on Sunday night into a mean hardened encasement on the limbs of the burdened trees. Snow had blown onto the highway and mixed with the dangerous black ice that gripped the same colour pavement, leaving the driving conditions intense. Warnings had been voiced throughout the radio morning show.....to be careful.....to go slow.......to take your time.

The sunrise skyline in front of me was a blurred soft salmon like someone had used pastel crayons to colour it in and them used the warmth of their fingers to rub it into a delicate sleepiness. As the sun rose higher into the horizon it too had a blurriness from the thin clouds that covered and captured whatever warmth emanated from it's centre. It was a storm warning sky, familiar to anyone who lives in snow country. It was silently beautiful.

The highway between Fredericton and Saint John is a well known one to me, and it has my utmost respect. Two lanes for the most part, hilly with very few straight stretches, it cuts through the training land for CFB Gagetown which is all forested. In some parts, a brand new serious looking fence separates the road from the forest to keep the moose where they should be..... and not gallavanting along the white dashes. They have been known to do that. Several people have been killed after their vehicles have collided with a moose. The fence is a life saver.

As much as I was keeping my eyes on the road and my brain alert and focused on the driving, I did take in the scenery as I passed by. The trees, mostly mature evergreens were covered in a thick coat of snow, so white it was almost blinding.....so heavy that they were all bent over like they were bowing to the motorists. It was stunningly beautiful, like a winter wonderland picture postcard. If it had been a different day, perhaps I would've been able to pull off the road and take some photos. Instead, I decided I would tuck the picture into my memory in order to be able to try to find the words to describe them.

While I was thinking about how one could describe the depth of winter's beauty on the landscape of this part of the world, a familiar song came on CBC Radio 2 (which by the way has completely enamoured me of late with its changes. I love the music they are playing in the mornings). It had been made famous 20 or so years ago by Paul Simon when he teamed with an African group named Ladysmith Black Mombazo. I remember the first time I saw them perform it.......on Saturday Night Live, and I remember being absolutely bowled over by the feeling that rose out of all them as they sang....knowing I would never forget the song or the feeling. This rendition wasn't accompanied by Simon but rather Sarah McLaughlin. Her voice fed right into LBM's harmony like an angel..........

Homeless, homeless

Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake

Homeless, homeless

Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake

We are homeless, we are homeless

The moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake

And we are homeless, homeless, homeless

The moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake

Such a contrast.......a mind awakening contrast.........there I was travelling through a stretch of what seemed like the fairytale version of the North pole with its snow artistry listening to a song that had transported me to the soul full beat of Africa. I couldn't be farther away physically from where this song originated but spiritually as I listened to the words and absorbed the sounds of a language I can't speak or understand, I was right there.

Strong wind destroy our home

Many dead, tonight it could be you

Strong wind, strong wind

Many dead, tonight it could be you

And we are homeless, homeless

Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake

Homeless, homeless

Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake

Homeless, homeless

Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake

Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih

Somebody sing hello, hello, hello

Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih

Somebody cry why, why, why?

Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih

Somebody sing hello, hello, hello

Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih

Somebody cry why, why, why?

Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih

This is a song which entered our world only 22 years ago and helped broaden our awareness of world music. It was a daring thing to do......apartheid was still raging. Nelson Mandela was still imprisoned. Communism was still such a prevalent silencer to millions of people. The Berlin Wall was still a foreboding crippler of freedom when we were introduced to this song. But when you think about it, it's the art......music, paintings, novels, films, poems which always seems to lead the way to change and awareness. This song for me awakened my interests in learning more about African issues.........but also made me realize that some issues.........homelessness for example....and the feelings behind the issues are universally felt.

somebody cry.......why, why, why?

we can relate........communicating through our creativity.

we can relate by recognizing the very idea that we all think, feel, breathe and yearn alike.

we can relate by reaching out and learning about our similarities and differences.

December 10th, 2008 (tomorrow!!!) is the 60th anniversary of the Declaraton of Human Rights. WE still have major homelessness issues. WE still have people imprisoned behind walls. WE still have people who are brave and have tried to speak out about the injustices the see and experience in their countries. Yes, we have made major strides since Paul Simon did us a huge favour by introducing us to beautiful music filled with sounds and language we can absorb through our hearts. However, many people have been silenced..... Many people in our world....human beings like you and I live with NO rights. This is a violation we all need to recognize and we all need do something about.

Tomorrow, I will write about a couple of people, ordinary people who have taken it upon themselves to make a difference in the rights of others. Every Human Has Rights.....Inspiring.....

Tonight, as I hunker down in the port city of Saint John for the duration of the workshop, I want to share music......to inspire....... to wake up our passion for people who live far away from Canada's wintery landscape..... as a reminder of our individual right to freedom of expression. Written in collaboration.....follow this link....

ps....Today? I led a workshop on our basic needs. It went better than I expected because there was the music playing in my soul.

curry anyone?

Today, I was invited by my Harbour friend, Paul to take part in a meme......to find the 4th photo in my 4th file......to post it and write the story to accompany. WELL! Serendipity was laughing out loud and with glee when I discovered it was THIS lovely shot of a bunch of beautiful people enjoying fellowship and good food in a restaurant located on Brick Lane.

Last May, I flew to London for a week of adventure and fun and was welcomed with unconditional love and belonging by my beautiful Pipfriend in the orange ballcap and his wonderful life partner, Joan. I had arrived that afternoon, all worn and tossled from a very traumatic 4 days, right into the arms of Pip and Joan. We had never met in person before!! And there they were at Gatwick smiling and welcoming me to the old country. :) Not only that, they took me, a strange Canuck home with them!!

I didn't even know if I was going to be able to make the trip. The decision, with the help and support of my family and friends on this side of the pond, was made with only a couple of hours to spare. It was an emotional whoosh like I've never experienced. Pip and Joan took me and my stress in stride ....... fed me, poured wine for me....... and on the very first night, arranged for me to meet these wonderful people at Brick Lane. Everyone made me feel completely at ease and one of the gang.

The only person missing from this evening was my Harbour friend who couldn't make it to London that week ......... Paul, if it wasn't for meeting you through the serendipity of our blogs, I would never have found myself sitting in a restaurant on Brick Lane last May......meeting some of your dearest friends. Next time you'll be there, right? :)

Now, hows that for a strange twilighty zone coincidence??

Who knows......maybe one day soon, I'll get to attend another curry fellowship again.

song for a winter's night

As we draw closer to the longest night of the year, I have been thinking a lot about how much the essence of winter is in the soul of a Canadian. It seems as though our personal rhythm is tied closely to the seasons. No matter if the coldest months are spent in Florida, winter's weave remains in our fabric. Its in our literature, our movies, our art, and of course our sports. It's in our humour, our perspective, our interests, our pursuits. Heck, it's even in our sex lives.......we have many many babies born from August to November......you do the reverse counting.

It's no surprise then that one of my favourite Canadian love songs is nestled in the lonely yearning of a winter's night..... Written and sung by Gordon Lightfoot. There are other versions, but I prefer Lightfoot's rendition. It was the one playing inside me last night as I stepped outside into a calm wonderland of freshly falling snow.

The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top

The snow is softly falling

The air is still within the silence of my room

I hear your voice softly calling

If I could only have you near

To breathe a sigh or two

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love

Upon this winter night with you

The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead

My glass is almost empty

I read again between the lines upon each page

The words of love you sent me

If I could know within my heart

That you were lonely too

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love

Upon this winter night with you

The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim

The shades of night are liftin'

The morning light steals across my windowpane

Where webs of snow are driftin'

If I could only have you near

To breathe a sigh or two

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love

Upon this winter night with you

And to be once again with with you

here is a very young Lightfoot's version...Song for a Winter's Night.

Creative Teamwork ........Their eyes were on the prize!

I'm sure most of us have been summoned to the door by an enthusiastic young entrepreneur selling something on behalf of their school? Everything from raffle tickets to cheese to wreaths to wrapping paper.....oh, and chocolate bars too are sold door to door for the sake of new gym mats, band instruments or whatever the district budget never seems to be able to afford. In order to REV up the enthusiasm, the kids are lured by a host of prizes.........prizes that get bigger the more you can SELL,SELL,SELL!

This year, my 11 year old son who is at a new bigkid school (aka middle school/junior high) along with the whole student body were asked to sell a bunch of crap out of a catalogue. The golden egg prize? A Limosine ride for 4 to and from the movie theatre.....tickets and popcorn included. Well! BADABING! That got the entrepreneurial imagination stirred. Within minutes of that announcement, Max pulled three of his buddies together and suggested that whatever they sell individually they would pool it under one name on the order form and if they won, they would all get a Limo ride.

SURE!

SURE!

YEAH!

They approached their teacher with this idea to make sure it would be alright. She seemed all for it and off they went to plan their marketing strategy by mapping out the neighbourhood. For a few days, the boys paired up and scampered up and down the streets knocking on doors and smiling their adorable 11 year old smiles and before they knew it, they had managed to sell close to 800 dollars worth of trumped up dollar store items. It took an evening to make sure everything was itemized and accounted for on the order sheet, all monitored by one of the parents. It all seemed like a GREAT exercise in business practises. The boys were learning, cooperating, and applying both their social skills and their imaginations.

Well............they won! It was announced over the loudspeaker! Cheers all around the little Grade 6 class! They beat out the rest of the student body!! The Limo was theirs! Bring it ON!

Then, somebody put on the brakes! A complaint was filed. It wasn't fair said the complaint. Someone in the office agreed....it wasn't fair. Before we knew it, 4 very rejected sad faces shuffled home to inform their parents that they were told they didn't win because they pooled their order under one name and that wasn't FAIR! "That's the last time I'm selling crap for that school.." says Max. "They knew what we were doing. The teacher told us we could..."

It turns out however that these 4 boys are sons of parents who have put in many many MANY hours of fundraising over the years when they were too young to sell crap from a catalogue. They did it! Christmas bazaars, raffle tickets, auctions, garage sales, silent auctions.....wreaths, pointsettias, T-shirts, CD's, you name it, we sold it. Not only that, we ORGANIZED the selling of it. If you were to pool the $$ raised between the 4 families it would be quite a heap of gym mats, library books, playground equipment and musical instruments. We had been on both sides of the fundraising game......SO.... fair is fair is FAIR!

One scripted email, highlighting the fact that these guys were up front about their gameplan and were creative enough to sell the most product, and the Limosine, movie tickies and popcorn was regifted. The Principal shook their hands and praised them for their ingenuity. The Vice Principal shook her head and said......"this is the first time in the 13 years we've been selling crap from a catalogue" that this approach was used. We'll have to make sure we have the rules in order for next year....."

Last night, the boys congregated at one of the homes with 11 year old excited anticipation. Slowly up the street came a shining white stretch limosine to pick up the stars. The boys poured out of the house and down the driveway with ooooo's and ahhhhhhh's and enough laughter to fill the Friday night sky! The driver, a woman named Ned Kelly (honest to God) welcomed them and opened the door into a world of entrepreneurial dreamland!

Off they went for a ride........

a mere shadow

I'll never forget first learning in high school about the bombs dropped on Hiroshima. The most poignant part of the lesson, what made it real was knowing that what was left of some people was an imprint of their former selves on the pavement. All that was left behind was their shadow. Their bodies had been incinerated. I have often wondered if the gas chambers in Aushwitz are still filled with the shadows of the millions of Jews who were murdered there. I've never been to there, but my guess would be that there is a strong sense of presence placed on the whole compound.

Perhaps shadows are soulprints; no two are alike.

When I catch my own shadow pouring out of me, it makes me feel less alone. Maybe that's why melancholy hovers on a cloudy day..... lost shadow, lost soul.

Shadows humanize objects. When I see the bare branches of a tree projected on the side of a building, it seems like its an embrace. They connect us to nature. We have that in common. Human, animal or object, our shadows touch down on the earth where we all evolve from, and where we will end up. They are our imprints of life signifying the time between birth and death.

What forms them? What substance are they made of? I like to think that mine is filled with the spirits both past and present who are keeping an eye on me. Loved ones who have died. Memories held dear. Courage to face the unknown. Reassurance from a guardian angel who may be watching over me. Conscience needed to help me make decisions or to guide me along. Whispering prayer that never ends and keeps to the beat of my movement and thoughts.

It is like my sober second thought mixed with encouragement to stretch my limits. I wonder if God hangs out there, walking along with me.........and when my shadow disappears in the night when lights are dim and the noise goes internal.......maybe that's when He seeps into my soul and stretches me the most?

Do they have a shelf life? We don't take them to our graves do we? I don't think so. The shadows left on the pavement in Hiroshima or in the gas chambers in Auschwitz.........where did they go? They are imprinted on ours as a new painful layer of awareness. We carry their shadows. We carry them.

And when we die, where will our shadows go? They will fold into the lives of our loved ones as a means to keep our stories alive. It makes me think that shadows are our collective story...........one with no beginning and no end....I find that idea reassuring.

this week's photography theme is "shadow." For more interpretations and photos, please visit Carmi at Written Inc.

This is a picture my brain with a heavy duty really irritating cold. I have been prorogued along with the rest of the country.....

I have much I want to write about on the state of affairs of this country, but I'll have to wait. I can't seem to formulate a sentence tonight.

five words to describe how i am feeling about the mess we call our Parliament......

outraged

disgusted

shocked

disappointed

frustrated.

• I believe the only way to save our pathetic little republic from the evil doing of that cartoon character Stephen Harper is to call in a couple of superheros........namely Dudley DoRight and Roger Ramjet. They are our last resort.
• I'm also generating my own political coalition. it will have a hockey theme...... It's time to put Dryden in the role of leader. He's the only one in this damn country who both Habs and Leafs fans admire. Marti McSorley would be Minister of Defence.
• I believe the only one left in Ottawa with any integrity is Bill Casey who sits as an independent.
• I am also generating a list of recommended gifts for the Christmas season.......a few appropos items I think every Canuck will be interested in.
• But not now................
• Now.............I'm going to suck on some drugs and climb into my bed. I need to get the hurricane out of my head.

weighty ghosts

the river continues to flow but soon will be frozen over.
that is when the riverghosts return
a ghost just needs a home......
this song has haunted me for three days as I have tried and tried to write a story which just doesnt seem to be ready to come out of me....
just have to be patient.....

needs and releases

Our behaviour is our best attempt at the given time to fulfill one of 5 basic needs....survival, love and belonging, empowerment/control, freedom and/or fun.

What impacts our behaviour is how we think and how we feel.........about ourselves, about others in our lives, about the situation we find ourselves in, about what life has served up.

Past experiences trigger reactions

Past experiences thrust us into the familiar dance steps

Past experiences shroud us from new perspectives, from a new way of seeing.

Old wounds refreshed and uncared for seep into the present and are revealed in the kind of decisions we make

Life can leave us with two scraped knees and a dislocated soul can't it? It's safer to stay under the covers sound asleep or numbed by vices, disconnected to the rest of the world. Thats the choice.........to remain asleep and safe or to be self-medicated or to be wide awake and vulnerably out there giving it our best....

Action never happens without a thread to thought or feelings. Even if you're the Prime Minister. Even if you're an elected official sitting in opposition vying for the leadership ring. Accumulated unreflected experiences leave their mark on the manner with which one leads their life. Knowing this, and knowing that these men seem to be quite intelligent, why are they so unaware of the ramifications of their actions on others and on their own lives?

When someone gets into a shoving match with their own psyche, can any bystander stop the insanity? We seem to have elected a bunch of very wounded needy people intent on fulfilling their own needs instead of rising to the occasion and recognizing that their behaviour is impacting a whole nation.

Oh, great. Oh, Canada.

Can someone up in Ottawa please give these boys a mirror to look at? A whole lot of reflection is needed............and some psychotherapy to help them see their wrinkled, beard stubbled faces are those of ADULTS??

the golden arc de triomphe

Once upon a time in the land of backyard rinks, vast wildernesses, pesky mosquitoes, testosterone expressive high sticking, and grizzlies who wrestle beavers live a bunch of boy politicians in search of a pissing contest. Representing four different parties, Leaderless, Rudderless, Unityless and Humourless, and all with seeming different agendas, these boypos (short for short boy politicians) were constantly vying for attention and thirsty for power despite the fact that they had just competed in a National election a little over a month ago. The bladders of the land were emptied out.

Many believed the election wasn't needed because it had been less than two years since the last one and things seemed to be well in hand despite it being a minority government. "Why waste the money? Why pollute the airwaves with doublespeak gooble-dee-gook?" However the leader of the Humourless party who was also the Prime Minister of the land, known for his teeny tiny humility and a hidden agenda which frightened the people of the great white north, was determined to win a majority. Given that the economy was about to tank, and that the country folk were busy Bar BQ ing roadkill on skewers (the national food) dipped in maple syrup.....too busy having their summer fun to pay attention, Humourless used the opportunity and threw down the gauntlet. The 30 million dollar pissing contest began and ended all within 6 weeks. Unfortunately, he fell a few feet short of the target. The land continued to linger in minority limbo as the economy began to make it's predictable spiral downward.



As in any election, there were remnants left on the side of the road. The Leader of the Leaderless party, whose battlecry throughout the election was "I love my country......!!" which was stolen from the sidetalkin' little guy from Shawinigan who ruled the land before Humourless PM, was cast aside very quickly in the aftermath. It was the WORST defeat in the history of the Leaderless Party. So, before people could close up their cottages for a winter's sleep, the Leaderless party members began their own internal pissing contest to pick their next boy politician contestant. Many old standards who had shown their wares before decided not to run, which left three keeners to wrestle for the golden arc de triomphe crown.....Bob, Mike and Dominic.

The Rudderless party, who never makes any inroads in any federal election somehow managed to win enough seats to douse the simmering grumbles of the caucus in order for their jackrussell laytonterrier.......the hyper leader to continue representing them in scrums across the vast wilderness. And Unityless? Well, their focus has always and will remain on Quebec separating from the rest of the great white north in order to save their culture from being swallowed up by the cowboys on the western frontier. Despite this narrow focus, Unityless came out of the election with enough urine to stay in the game and make a difference with respect to the balance of power.


As autumn's leaves fell and November's breath let off a steam when it touched the cold air, it appeared that this new Minority government would settle into the silly season of bantering through question period. It was supposed to be time for rehydration. Alas, it was not going to be the case. Humourless and his henchmen scanned the land like a game of Stratego and saw the opposition sitting back drinking their favourite beer (how a Canadian rehydrates) while discussing their own internal planning and postering. Perfect timing for bully tactics to play out.



Hmmmmmm.......thought the reigning party........"lets pull out our hidden agenda of cuts and slashes to programs and incorporate it in the national budget. What can they do to us? We'll attack the economic woes unlike the REST OF THE WORLD by NOT stimulating the economy through spending in key areas. Instead, we'll tighten the belt of the coffers, so we can say we managed to maintain a surplus. Hey, that'll work.....there will be no stinky socialist dirt on our fingers. WE are fiscally tight assed responsible. The whole wide world may be doing one thing, but we are power pissers, we can outspray any challengers. OH, and while we're at it, lets cut public funding to political parties. That'll hit them in their kissers!"


WELL! The three other parties........Leaderless, Rudderless and Unityless got wind of the new budget and cried FOUL! Humourless is trying to TOXIFY the land with his ridiculous bravado! OUTRAGEOUS! NON Monsieur! They cried in unison as they leaped off their lazyboys, beer can in hand, and headed to a hidden boardroom located in the bowels of Ottawa. Every now and then, one of them would be allowed out to be interviewed over the airwaves, but throughout the weekend, the chatter and planning continued........It was time to BEAT Mr. Humourless at his own game. It was time to form a pissing coalition.......... to outaim, outspray, outlast the urine soaked.

All weekend long, they postulated and permutated, and practised their aim while the rest of the country went about their lives attending Christmas bazaars and parades oblivious to the kerfuffle in Ottawa. Sick of their elected members bullying and threats of relieving themselves in public, the people of the land ignored the silly threats and chest pounding antics.

Until today............. when they announced a coalition...two national parties and one separatiste party have reached an agreement to take down the governing party in a non confidence vote......Quoi??


So, as the national stock exchange posted their worst day since 1987, as the dollar continued to lose strength, as the auto industry collapses, the manufacturing sector continues to pack up for parts in the Far East..........as people receive their lay off notices or are confronted with an unplanned early retirement.......as folks who have invested their savings as a means of accumulating money to live out their retirement years see it dwindled away.....as the country south of the border who has just admitted that their recession began a year ago with no end in sight BUT has a leader who is ready to take charge of change and INVEST in his own country as a way to help out their own economy....... Canada is stuck with a bunch of little boys intent on crossing swords in battle. The timing on this couldn't be worse.

And who is going to win this most recent pissing contest? Monsieur Leaderless who had been left on the side of the road a little over a month ago. He's been chosen to give it his BEST aim! From beaten up has been to Prime Minister in one season. At least we are getting rid of the bully.............let him lick the fork stuck in that humble pie. What a pompous, pompous Humourless ASS.

Stay tuned....................eh..... this is going to take a truckload of Moosehead before it's over.