contradictions

the sharp intake of contradiction

sits in wait at the cross of two paths

where painted signs of doubting discomfort

hung in low branches

point out the myriad of directions.

the air is thinly perfumed with baffling adrenaline

and scored by an orchestra of silent instruments

playing to the crowd of lonely patrons

what to do?

who to believe?

why the paradoxes?

what do we thirst?

is contradiction a flirtatious whore in a white dress

who lures innocent hearts into dangerous territory....

or simply a scorned misunderstood woman

offering new awareness in delicate cups

filled with thirst quenching water from the well?

may we accept her for who she is and what she offers -

a place for learning found in the bittersweet elixir of life's adventure.

take care, drink deeply, love like you've never been hurt.

.....know you are part of the unfolding of a mystery

....know that in the core of a contradiction is a clue.

the beauty of an old poet

Ain't it just like a human....
Here comes that rainbow again.


makes me smile....

WHOA! I THINK SHE'S GOT IT!!!!!!!!

A small incident from many years ago reappeared in my memory bank this week right after a completely separate and seemingly disconnected event happened in my life. Yet, it somehow managed to turn on an internal switch I think I've been fumbling with for what seems like forever. It also turned my frown into giggle when I quickly saw the absurdist analogy. What stumps me is how such a small seemingly inconsequential blip in my life journey has obviously continued to float in the ether of my collective experiences just waiting to become part of a "teachable" moment.

25 years ago, I backpacked through parts of Europe with my friend Heather. Along the way, we hooked up with other travellers...sometimes just for the day.......sometimes a little longer. It depended on the connection and interests....it depended on which direction we were headed. Sometimes, the fates kept intersecting throughout the trip so that our new friends would pop up unexpectedly at another destination unbeknownst to anyone.

This happened consistently with Mike, a beautiful gregarious man from Minnesota whom we had originally met while he was fumbling at the front desk of a dumpy hostel in Athens trying to sort out accomodation. He had just managed to make his way through to Sarajevo for the Olympics and all on his own travelled south by train, crossing a border and dealing with all that entailed. But, for some reason, he couldn't get his act together to communicate his wishes. We watched him for a while....and then went to his rescue. He bought us a beer. We became fast friends.

(shoot! now I'm all wrapped up in ALL the stories of my travels with Mike and I just wanted to share one incident!! ggrr..... gotta stay on track here..... I'll write another piece about him another time because it is a wonderful story about the realness of serendipity...)

So........fasttrack.....we left Athens.....bizarrely reunited on the ferry to Italy.......did Rome in more than a day (AMAZING CITY.....) and ended up in Florence. He and I saw Pisa and Sienna together and loved it while Heather chose to stay in Florence to soak in the art. On the last day together (or so we thought because fates kicked in twice more on this backpack trip to pull us together) we were standing in the Florence train station with plans to go in different directions. At this point, there were two Brazillian travellers with us who spoke English and Portugese.

It was a bit chaotic that morning....notorious Italian strikes the day before had messed up the train schedules. So, Mike took it upon himself to approach a tiny old Italian woman who was standing behind a counter to ask about departure times. Without any hestitation, he asked her in English....not even considering the woman may not speak the language. The woman duffed him off with her hand telling him in Italian, "no english..." So, what did Mike do? He spoke LOUDER and SLOWER!

Hello!? A little smacking of entitlement stirring around in that manboy's body??

Frustration on both sides filled the air. It was classic. The old woman completely dismissed him as an idiot American traveller. And Mike who was a pleasant friendly guy was hurt in some weird way....he was misunderstood. I think it was an ego bite. We added to the bite by asking him YET AGAIN how he had managed to travel solo through Eastern Europe without someone knocking his block off? Why did he always assume everyone could speak and understand English??

One of the guys from Brazil took over. He approached the old woman behind the counter while we stood off to the side, far enough away that we couldn't hear the conversation. In seconds, he had the woman smiling and conversing. Strange.....he didn't speak Italian, and we assumed the woman didn't speak Portugese. And yet, he managed to return to us with the departure time information. Dumbfounded, I said to him....

"I didn't know you spoke Italian..."

"I don't," he replied, "I just changed the accent on my Portugese. There's enough similarities in the language that she was able to understand me."

I hadn't thought about this silly incident for years until I was driving home one day this week. I had just been confronted with the realization that my emotions were eating me up and driving others away. Not only that, because I hadn't been heard....or they hadn't been acknowledged therefore not affirmed as a human being (this is how it felt....I think its an EGO thing!!!), I did what I do best,.....I had been rachetting them up a notch or two. I had been consistently turning up the decibels. And when that didn't work, I sucked them in and simmered in the sludge of pissed offness. I know I have channelled them into my writing, but apart from that venue, they were either being supressed or spilling out scaring people.

Listen to me for God's sake! Can't you understand the language of my emotions???? This was the frustration I have been feeling in all parts of my life. If a person dismissed me because they were afraid of how intense my feelings were, I felt rejected. If a person tried to help me unravel the now pent up potent stew boiling away, I flooded them. No inbetween seemed to be available to me. No explanations or attempts to describe it using the same language helped me at all. It never occured to me that all I had to do is step back and perhaps change the accent. I seemed to have been stuck in a place of entitlement like Mike and expected others to get it.

There is absolutely no doubt that I am an emotionally driven person. I always have been....I feel it in myself and I feel it deeply in others. This is what helps me be a good counsellor. This is what I can POUR out as a facilitator in front of a classroom full of learners. I see how it helps me connect to others who are trying to scramble up out of a hole. The complicated feelings that make up a deep firey belly of passion has tremendous implications, both positive and negative. Cognitively I understand this....and intellectually I know many don't have this desire or capacity to pull from in themselves. Big feelings scare the shit out of most people. My fears are different.....spiders, snakes, flying....death, drowning, being rejected.....the whole God existance or not thing...... lots of fears here. But, I ain't afraid of emotions.

I have been told time and again I'm too sensitive....too dramatic....my feelings are right there on my sleeve, expressed through my vocal chords, in my writing. The most unnatural thing for me to do is to suppress. The absolute worst thing someone can do to me is ignore me....to remain silent simmering in their own feelings. When this is combined with a sense of something being unfair, well I have a tough time coping. I want to fix it. I want to express it. I want equality.

My father always said I was a "do it" person. I am that, and I thank him for this gene he passed onto me. On most days, this is a good thing. Stuff gets done. But, what I've learned this week (again, because I'm sure this lesson has hit me over the head a thousand times before ) is that sometimes my feelings can shut down others feelings because they swamp them. I have enough gumption to express it for a whole ball team if needed. But, sometimes that doesn't help them, nor does it help me. If and when I tackle life that way, I am more often than not shut out, shunned, not believed.

An example on a smaller scale, I could feel it in a team meeting the other day when I was describing a particularly meaningful interaction I had with a client. I could see that some were with me as I thought i was carefully choosing my words and actually keeping my feelings in line. But, there were others who shut down and dismissed me because they think I'm some Pollyanna airhead who doesn't see reality. Little do they know, not only do I see reality, I feel it in my bones too!

Feeling people are unpredictable people. Out of control feeling people (when affirmation or recognition doesn't happen for a long time.....or when life seems too damn chaotic and unreliable) are caustic. Rachetting it up a notch NEVER helps.

So, lesson learned.....everyone has to have the chance to express their own stuff, that many are not comfortable AND WILL NEVER BE comfortable with big emotions..... and that it would be best to learn how to speak Portugese with an Italian accent rather than talk louder. Interestingly, I've always had a thing for the passion of the romantics. BELLA!

happy glowing faces

From a tiny seed planted in the spring, they begin their ascent from the soil. Gathering strength in their numbers, they continue to rise....their stems become stalks.....their potential unlimited. With the support of their environment, they thrive. It makes me wonder if their ultimate goal is to touch the tip of the sky? As they absorb the best of the summer sun, we wait in anticipation for the grand display of their happy glowing faces to delight our gardens. Have you ever noticed how they seem to point their faces towards the warm rays like they are anticipating a kiss?

Sunflowers offer us a glimpse of our own cycle of life.

Seeds are sown, seeds are grown.....

Through our nuturing of one another and absorbing the best of the summer sun, we also have the potential to reach up to touch the tip of the sky....receiving kisses along the way.

I took these photos last summer in my friend Jen's garden. Her home is one of my favourite places to take pictures because there is a feeling of smiling creative energy in the air and it just seeps under my skin. Jen always lets me wander around her property, usually with 3 or 4 dogs in tow and a few hens keeping an eye on us. I think she knows how much it helps me alleviate any built up stress and tension of the work week..... My wanderings allow me to take in deep breaths of fresh air and to let out the weary ones.

This weeks theme at Carmi's place is "floral..." Thank you Carmi. It was great to revisit last summer. It filled me with the anticipation of all that is good of our short summer months, and revved up my desire to get back out in the garden again.

maslow.....

What would your hierarchy of needs collage look like?

Are your needs being met?

Are the choices you're making getting you what you want?

Is what you want the same as what you need?

**tonight's maslow collage homework brought to you by Martha.....good discussions had by all.....***

milk and cookies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hush, hush, hush.....

____________________________

Comfort Inside of a Lullaby

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

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

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

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

hush, hush, hush......

the fixing fairy

Once upon a time, there was a little fairy who never went anywhere without her trusty crazy glue. Known as a fixer amongst the fairy people, this little sprite had the knack to mend wings and wounds. Her crazy glue was a magical mixture, a special secret recipe known for its healing powers. Tucked in the pockets of her bright blue fairy dress, she always had access to it. The key, she had learned as she accepted her role within the fairy family, was to help others learn how to apply the glue themselves. It blended in much better that way. Help them mend their own brokenness....

Yes, she was known as the crazy glue fairy....the fixer. It was expected of her. It was what she expected of herself. Sometimes she'd make the mistake of trying to mend when she wasn't invited to and when that happened, she was tisked away, dismissed and admonished. She tried hard not to do this, not to jump in when she wasn't wanted but her desire to help others coupled with her intuitive ability to see the need sometimes overwhelms her rational thinking.


Her biggest challenges were the internal rips which were difficult to see and more difficult to stop the bleeding. Sometimes she was successful in helping the wounded fairy become more whole. Sometimes all she could do was offer a couple of dabs of her glue before the fairy would be off and away.


There were a few hurts though which stumped her abilities, and try as she might there was no way to help those internal bleeds. This upset her beyond description because for a long time she thought her gifts were wanted and were enough to mend and to fix most everything. But after trying and trying and trying.....looking at the wound from many different angles, offering up her hope and ideas, creating new potions of her crazy glue, hitting up against walls of unacceptance, she grew so tired of fighting against the rejection she felt from the wounded.

It was a emotionally difficult realization that the fairy's crazy glue wasn't wanted and that some of the other fairies were actually afraid of her take chargeness. It left her feeling completely at odds with how she had pictured herself, with what she thought was expected and warmly welcomed. After a while, her sadness turned into resignation as she realized her crazy glue fixing was seen as threatening...

Somehow what she thought she was doing was a good thing had turned into a problem. As much as she tried to remind herself that her role as a fixer was only a part of who she was, it was too entrenched in her own definition of herself. What would she do if she couldn't fix? How would she deal with this and did she have the strength to let go of the role and move onto something else?


Funny though, she was sick and tired of being the fixer. The problem was......what was she supposed to do with all that crazy glue? And what would she do to replace her role as fixer? Its all she's ever known.

Alone and so exhausted, she sat down surrounded by her own self pity and feel asleep thinking about the wounds she failed to fix and wondering if she was a phoney fixer all along. She could feel an internal rip and she didn't know if she could tend to it anymore. Perhaps it was time to let it bleed. She laid down, pulled her wings in and her legs up and went to sleep.

attachments

“We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.”
ee cummings

I was wondering lately about the concept of attachment. It seems that most of what I've read rings with negative vibes. If one attaches to iconic beliefs, one sees the world through a myopic filter. In order to find self, one has to detach. To many, it seems that the idea of attachment reflects a leech-like one sided existance......of dependence and blindness.....of selfish need fulfillment. This surprised me. I hadn't looked at the meaning of attachment in this way. Rather, my thoughts led me in the opposite direction.

Sure, we become attached to material possessions. How many times do we say or hear, " I can't live without my...." Yes, we can easily become dependent on a belief system that lacks the fluid opportunities to question and challenge it. It's easier to swallow a message from the Bible whole rather than find the confidence to boldly question it. Relationships too can become one-sided, when needs of one consistently far outweigh the needs of another or when one person in the relationship displays control tactics in a power play. We all struggle with these unhealthy attachments as we figure out a way to balance and fairness. It's all part of life's learning....life's journey.

I want to look at attachment in a healthier sense because to me, it represents fellowship and belonging. Healthy attachments reflect mutual affection........an affinity of like minds. Healthy attachments can offer new insights of who we are, and how we are perceived and what our value is to this world. Possibly producing snippets of self- revelation. It is a bonding between two individuals or a connection to a place of worship, or to a community that allows one to find the confidence to show a vulnerable side. It allows one to feel an open-hearted sense of being able to show true colours thereby feeling accepted no matter what. The strings of attachment, when the feelings of affinity flow back and forth, are wrapped in acceptance and self-confidence. We are then able to strive for personal independence. Affirmation and attachment are the foundation to build on our independence. WE need love and belonging as much as we need air to breathe.

There are times when the balance of a friendship tips......personal circumstances pull on the strings in one way. Need for reassurance, need for more understanding, more commitment, more attention puts pressure on the relationship. It alters the role each person may have assumed in the attachment. Sometimes it's difficult to know how to help or to know how to ask for help. It may be new territory, especially if the friendship is newly forming, or if the needs are deep.Questions from both parties can arise, on both sides of the attachment, felt stronger when there is a unique sense of kindredness one doesn't find just anywhere.........

What does this person want from me?
How can I reach out to help this person without being misperceived?
How can I explain my pain and anguish to another when I can't even describe it to myself?
Why is this person reaching out to me when I have nothing to give in return?
Is there an underlying reason why this person would want to help me?
How worthy am I?

Are there strings attached to this person's desire to help me?

When it comes to connecting with new people in our lives, we are often untrusting beings arent we? Unconditional acceptance is a foreign entity in our lives, expecially if one has been burned before by someone who at face value seemed to be offering an open heart but then trumped you with a different agenda. And, yet unconditional acceptance, where harsh judgement plays no role, does exist between two people. It's a hard climb to make, but well worth it because these types of attachments.....this kinship is the most satisfyingly rich than any other.

Vulnerability, self-doubt, pain and confusion can easily block the questions from being posed. However, if the attachment is based on mutual admiration, on desire to give and take, on the awareness that the friendship can offer both enlightenment and personal growth, the questions need to be asked.........and answered........feeding the depth of affinity and feeding confidence in the reliability of the other person.

All relationships shift, all friendships breathe Commitment to making it work, to wanting to learn more about ourselves, desire to giving and receiving, and the expression of words allow attachments to flourish. Both parties must see the gift, and must want to take the risk to learn to trust to make it work.

No one likes to feel like a misfit. No one wants to feel lonely. We do want to be understood, accepted, loved, nutured.............no matter how large the scars are. We all need unconditional love provided through healthy attachments to thrive to feel alive. It's very real...........

***I wrote this piece a couple of years ago and reread it last night with new and different eyes. So, I thought I'd repost it again. Maybe there are new eyes out there too.

disdain

split second flicker in the eye

tightened judgement lips
a passing glance over head....

disinterested gaze

one hand gesture, finger up

scoffing tisk

yeah, right

sure

you don't measure up.

loser

such a loser

like you matter

no reply
never a reply
unspoken mouthful swallowed whole
unworthy of my time the silence roars
why?

human venom pierces through dismissed hisses

B-O-R-I-N-G

back turned, shoulders up

talk to the butt...it says

talk to the butt...

you matter as much as a stranger

pretend blindness

hard of hearing

arms crossed

defiant stance

fuck you.......you don't exist.

I know you do, I just don't want you to

condescending tone

who do you think you are?

deafening silence

defensive guard as offensive reaction

blocked off

walled off

unlovable

untouchable

unreachable

wonder if he's just shy?

maybe he's going through his own shit?

maybe she's just having another hissy fit?

avoidance....too intense

too many pleas, pushed into a corner

hidden meaning revealed

she's too much

she's too much

what the fuck does she want from me?

i can't give it.....

gotta get away

gotta get away

leave me alone says the silence

what's wrong with you?

You can't read my signals?

Seems pretty clear to me...

loser

such a loser

rejection

dejection

disrespect reflected, of yourself perhaps?

my mirror shows your flaws in a light too bright?

naked realism

torn

scorned

blemished cuts to the heart, your unhealed pain bleeds

guard up.......do not enter

DO NOT CROSS THAT LINE, YOU HEAR ME?

GET OFF MY PROPERTY!
misunderstanding stuffed in a pocket of pity

don't tell me you need me

you're too much work

ugly old puss, I can't even look at you.

gotta walk away
gotta walk away
gotta walk away

Disdain is the fashion of the day. Mean and rude...where is the shame?

The lingering echos of abandonment harken in the deafening hallway after the party's over.

Neil Young in Saint John

The Godfather of Grunge.....never stopped. Rust never sleeps, right? It was like he was in the zone as he played his guitar, which seemed like an extension of his self. He's been going at it since the mid-60's. His repetoire is extensive.....his eclectic musical interests range from rockabilly to country to the pure rawness of rock. His folk tunes are where I meet him mostly, but my deep awe for his talent and gift of being able to rock the place out after all these years knows no boundaries..... He is the miner for a Heart of Gold.

A few photos....not great and they won't win any prizes, but I think these three capture the energy and the feeling of the concert as best as I could.

The crowd was predominantly my age and some my parent's age, but there was a smattering of youngin's who have found their way to Neil Young. It seems to happen with most kids who are interested in learning how to play the guitar....whether it's a screaming tune or a folk song......there is something for everyone. When he played Cinnamon Girl....a song first recorded in 1969!!!!!.......it seemed just the right mix of folks.....three generations loving the tunes.

There's colours on the street

Red, white and blue

People shufflin' their feet

People sleepin' in their shoes

But there's a warnin' sign

on the road ahead

There's a lot of people sayin'we'd be better off dead

Don't feel like Satan,

but I am to them

So I try to forget it,

any way I can.

Keep on rockin' in the free world,

Keep on rockin' in the free world

Keep on rockin' in the free world,

Keep on rockin' in the free world.

I see a woman in the night

With a baby in her hand

Under an old street light

Near a garbage can

Now she puts the kid away,

and she's gone to get a hit

She hates her life,

and what she's done to it

There's one more kid

that will never go to school

Never get to fall in love,

never get to be cool.

Keep on rockin' in the free world,

Keep on rockin' in the free world

Keep on rockin' in the free world,

Keep on rockin' in the free world.

We got a thousand points of light

For the homeless man

We got a kinder, gentler,

Machine gun hand

We got department stores

and toilet paper

Got styrofoam boxes

for the ozone layer

Got a man of the people

,says keep hope alive

Got fuel to burn,

got roads to drive.

Keep on rockin' in the free world,

Keep on rockin' in the free world

Keep on rockin' in the free world,

Keep on rockin' in the free world.

Young teased the audience into thinking the song was over again and again.....guitar licks would begin to die down and then he would turn around and kick into the chorus again. The crowd responded like a frenzied Revival! Dancing, singing, arms swaying.....lost in the moment together. I love the last photo because of the blur of the swaying arms and bright lights blending them all together. Uplifted in the moment.....just like a good preacher can! :)

passion through another lens....

So often it slips away unnoticed by many, but those who know its medicinal magic seek it out. Cradled in the lonely remnants of the dark night where sorrow hovers like an ancient dream too complicated to comprehend, a blushing thinness appears over the sleeping hills.

Just when you thought hope had been smothered by the lingering heaviness of standstill time when your soul is clenched to ward off despair, it winks a deep pink so enticing you can't help but be pulled into its promise. A feast for your eyes. Salve for the spirit. At the very same moment when the pink blush smiles into a broader swath of pastel tangerine and touches the darkness all around turning it into a tangled blue, a choir harkens....no words, just a welcoming invitation to sit in the rising passion of dawn.

If only it could last forever, held captive by a living snapshot. But we know it would fade away into a outdated design. We would grow tired of its beauty. Besides, hope never remains still. Its very nature carries us forward in its inspiration.

We are kissed by the joy of a sunrise and rejoice in its loveliness. Its softening warmth is sweeter when we have waited on the wings with the lights down low. Let it lift you up into its arms away from despair, to show you a new day.....fresh with no mistakes.

Let your gaze be beautiful.....and know there is always a hand to hold. The sun RISES this morning and I sit in the darkness with You and notice.

Happy Easter.

Let the miracle of the day bathe you in comfort.

rockin' in the free world....

There are only a handful of singers who frame my youth like this man. Whenever I listen to his music, especially the old gems from the 70's, I am completely transported back to a place I hold near and dear to my heart.....a wonderful summer camp on the shores of Big Hawk Lake, where love and laughter, tears and learning, sweet surrendering nights, big starry skies.....a place where friendships were born and continue on today. Camp Kawabi was where I first heard Neil Young. Tonight, for the first time ever, I will get to see him live. I can't believe it's taken this long to attend one of his concerts.....

And when the chords for this song are struck, I will most likely be smiling a big goofy smile with tears in my eyes thinking about one particular night before the campers arrived when three very good friends had Camp Kawabi to ourselves. We sat on the porch drinking a beer, listening to this on the old stereo......

Comes a Time.........when we're driftin....Keeps me searchin' for a heart of gold....

bring out the harmonica Neil....I'm on my way. ! :)

true meaning of passion......

Was He afraid?

How did He bear the pain?

What went through His mind?

What went through the minds of the people who stood there watching His suffering and ultimate death?

How were they feeling when He drew his last breath?

Hanging on the cross

Bleeding

Suffering

Head down

Thorns piercing

Vulnerable beyond words

Surrendering beyond love

Tears flow as we pause in reflection

As we wonder about the true meaning of passion.

We are weak, He is strong.....

Hosannah.......

twin peaks

when accumulative past failures conjure up

clouds of trampling tensions

and fills a pail full of sorrows

when you find yourself

in the heat of an argument

where no wins, only losses are in sight

when bitter replaces all remnants of sweet

and numbness engulfs you in a shell of a victim

when you realize you have no control of the past

no matter how abusive, neglectful, or strange it was....

the only thing left to do is

to soften in the freedom of

surrender.

when the shared airspace sends signals

punching in all directions

sensuous warm currents of electricity

when mindful closeness conjures up

clouds of tempting tensions

and hypersensitivity clings

to the catching breaths of finger tips

no words, only unspoken desire is heard

when steps together spin a rhythm of the heart

and two bodies reflect one entrancing shadow

no matter when or where or why....

the only thing left to do is to reach

beyond yourself to a releasing

sweet surrender.

Interesting how we can reach the pinnacle of life's surrendering whether we are in belly of the angry beast or whether we are floating in a climactic feast. Who knew?

nature's jewels

At the end of the summer when all the other berries have long ripened, before the apples grow red hanging from their branches on the trees, these deep purple jewels make their appearance. Under the shade of the prickly vines which wrap around the alders, they congregate in small cathedrals of their own making. Away from sight, away from sunlight, they gather their tart sweetness from earth's moisture. Quietly and with no fanfare, these glistening plump candy grow heavier in succulence waiting to be discovered and consumed.

Or not! Maybe they don't want to be found. Maybe they are just fine ripening and surrendering their goodness back into the hallowed earth, letting their juice seep back to where it originallycame from. Far from showy, they remain protected behind scratchy stinging burrs and thorns in places where no paths have been tramped down. Perhaps they are quite content in their quiet role in nature....

It is only the brave explorer, who chooses to don full body covering, half a can of bug spray, and boots to muck about in who will forge into unchartered territory to enjoy these mouth watering treats freshly picked off the vines. And it is the brave blackberry lover, scratched up and bug bitten in their efforts to find the perfect offering who knows where these reverential jewels dwell who knows the quiet untouched groves they settle in.

In a quiet whisper, so as not to disturb their beauty, the gatherer tugs tenderly on the discovered jewel allowing it to slip gracefully into her hand and gently into her mouth letting its skin bursting fragrance awaken her taste buds.

All good things come to those who wait.


This week's photo theme is Edible. For most mouth watering offerings, check out Carmi's blog.

religion and curiosity = religiosity?

Am I religious? What does that mean?

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

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

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

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

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

I have been touched deeply by sacremental communion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

showing compassion

accepting others differences

being kind

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

affirming the goodness in another

remembering I am not better nor worse than anyone else

recognizing the pain and the joys in others

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

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

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

awe

Awe is not as intangibly distant as we think. It doesn't have to be an earth stirring experience where the memory is etched onto lifetime pages in scrapbooks. Rather, awe is found in small daily meditations. Life changing on its own? Maybe not. But, if we continue to live with our 5 senses and our hearts wide open to the wonder of the movement and feelings around us and in us, these minute reflections pull you to joyful affirmation. Small affirmations accumulated evolve into life changes.

As we stood, glass of wine in hand, beside a bonfire where the maple sap was boiling and looked up at the ever changing sky, my friend Heather and I whispered to one another....."arent we blessed to be living in such a beautiful place?" Given that both of us usually have big enthusiastic voices and are easily excitable when conversing, the very fact that the sky and the landscape moved us to a whisper.....we knew without verbalizing it that we had been experienced a cleansing moment when awe came to visit.

In unspoken reverence, we stepped out of real time and enjoyed the show....knowing we will never ever take beauty for granted.

ps...do you see the heart in the top photo?

hurtin' bunnies

Is there a moral to this?

Think before you hop?

Cover your cottontail ass?

Communication begins with actively listening?

Bunnies are tasty?

How about...protect your wee bunnies.

Rabbit stalking season's just around the corner.

Yikes!

redundant? never!

Unemployed, out of work....laid off.....on the dole.....but never ever ever redundant. Changes bring on toothaches that must be recognized and dealt with. Ah, but once that snaggy old tooth gets attention, sometimes what one is left with is the new smile of stretching awareness, eh? Oh, and if you're really really lucky a shining gold nugget to replace the cavity. :)

Pip, you were looking for a song about unemployment? Mr. Boss Springsteen is your man my emerald friend. This "hymn-ster" has been singin' about it for decades and look where it got him? :)

ps. Did you know redundancy is a term only used in the UK. I prefer abundancy. And abundancy is where creative compassion and love comes from. You radiate all of that and more. Love to you.

Oh, and one more thing my beautiful friend? Home is where the heart is. You and Joan are always in mine and in many others. In fact, I would hazard to guess that you two crazy cats have more homes than a whole darn neighbourhood. xx Lots of places to put that old jukebox without ever considering it for a new garden planter. :)

footprints

Travelling light works best with a friend.

Carrying the load

Singing a tune

Speaking inspirations

Tossing snowballs

Teasing

Laughing

Standing in awe

Wandering in wonder

Sharing secrets

Exploring the mystery

Expressing reflections

Sipping from the cup of life.....with a friend.

Travelling light....

2 sets of footprints...much better.

Let the journey be the unfolding of your prayer.

For my friend Mr. C.....my reply to your thoughts and the stunning photo you posted today.

ps. I came upon this little deer a couple of weeks ago during my work travels. I asked him where he was headed. He smiled and told me he was just waiting for his buddy and they were headed down the road to Alaska. Fancy that eh?

it's true....i guess....

10 truths?? Good Lord! I'm pretty much an open book on this bloggie gabfest, except the deep dark secrets and I ain't sharin' with the world. It's a dilemma I tell you, but my beautiful friend Niki has tagged me to spill 10 juicy bits......lets hope what I come up with isn't too darn redundant.

Ready??


1. A bunch of eeejits told me that boobs shrink if you nurse babies. I am here to say that not only is that complete and utter bullshit, nursing makes them LARGELY SAG! I thank the Good Lord for push up bras.

2. While I'm on the topic.......a couple of years ago, I decided I wanted to go to a tanning salon. I was going to a reunion and wanted to look my best....as best can be.... So, I asked around at the office and it turned out most people had been to a tanning salon. I felt like a freak because i had never been. So, off I went with their blushing blessings. Well, the first time was very very weird. There I was buck naked lying on a heated, lighted bed in the basement of this spa.....knowing NO ONE knew I was there. I hated the big LID too close to my face. it made me claustrophic, which I am on my good days. Anyways....got through it and went back to the office proud of myself! The girls were proud of me, but also warned me to be careful next time..... They told me it was easy to burn my nipples and to place a towel across my breasts to avoid the pain. ok, fine.....

So, I go the next time....WITH music to listen to so I wouldn't freak over the coffin feeling of the tanning bed. I lay down, music on and then go to place the small towel over my breasts to protect those sensitive nips. Well guess what??? No worries there! The damn things were tucked under my armpits! Thank God for sagging breasts from nursing!! I had that going for me.

3. You want to woo me? A big bonfire, guitar strumming and some cheap white plonk......I melt. But, who the hell wants to woo a woman with saggy breasts whose nipples tuck under her armpits?

4. I collect phallic Pez dispensers. Everyone has to have a hobby, right?

5. Stir my brain and you've stirred my soul. In my books, there's nothing finer than a good mind......****

6. I had dinner with the Queen. She slurps her soup. Well, that's not true....but I did have dinner with her Royal Highness. Charming woman. Though I knew better not to touch her or put my arm around her unlike Michelle Obama. God, where did she learn her manners???

7. Absurdity is my best friend. That's why I believe nice guys finish lunch....not last....lunch.

8. If I won the lottery, I would flip the bird at the hand that feeds me, and take the trip of endless possibilities. Along the way, I would stop and pick up a few folks to join me because i don't like to travel alone.

9. My favourite parts of the week are Saturday mornings when I am FREE with no strings, time constraints, responsibilities.... I do as I please.... just me. Part of the morning you will find me at the local market....loveitloveit.... And, Sunday afternoons... I love Sunday afternoons putting in my kitchen and in my home... making dinner, writing, listening to the radio or music.... comtemplating, thinking, creating. I wish the whole week was a compilation of Saturday mornings and Sunday afternoons.

10. hmmmm.......I was invited to go backstage once to meet Kenny Loggins (this of course was before nursing babies and I was still very perky!). I went, and it was quite anti-climatic because he was short and shy and had nothing to say, unlike the time I met and interviewed Harry Chapin...now that completely lived up to my expectations!! He put his arm around me and said.... "Now what can i do for you??" I was left freakin' gobsmacked....!

There you go Niki. Ten truths....after sipping on a bunch of crushed grapes....xx Gotta love plonk....now where's the fire??

time suspended

suspended between the blue shaded darkness
where light awaits on the threshold of time
liminal time
open ambiguity of the unknown
under the clock stars of night
straddled illusions resting in sleeping dreams
where reality of daylight awaits on the platform
behind the horizon
to take centre stage
in a fire of colour bursting up into the sky

Between now and then
meditative silence surrounds whispered hopes
streams of relaxing thoughts stir slowly
culminating in breath focused anticipation
birthing transition
liminal thresholding
blood and sweat pushing
of new life

fear and excitement collide
through the barrier of dreams
where blue shades fade into the light of a new day.
now becomes then.......becomes now.

and it begins with a healthy cry
and it begins with a relief sounding sigh
and it begins with a heart melting high.

new life craddled in dreams.

I heard the birds singing this morning before daylight. Its a welcoming sound....one i have been yearning to hear again. To know they have returned to this place where sleeping willows stood naked in the pale winter light brings me a river of hope. It is life unfolding anew.

Today, I awake as well with thoughts on a newborn. She's three weeks old. I met her only a week ago. She was all wrapped up in pink fleece, with her beautiful perfect tiny face and alert eyes staring up at the world from her car seat. She melted my heart. Today, her mother is struggling for her life after a debilitating stroke on Wednesday. My thoughts and prayers are for you Lacey. May you soon cradle your baby again. Get well dear Mom. We are all pulling for you.

silver stillness

It was stated by Meister Eckhart......"no one knows what the soul is. But, what we do know is the soul is where God works compassion...." I'm wondering if our deepest compassion for recognizing and accepting our imperfections as well as those in others can only truly happen when we find the courage to peel away the layers of silence, past the point of the loud pings and into the sanctity of a reflecting hymn......maybe that's where the soul dwells?

Silence has many layered meanings before we can reach what John O'Donahue described as the intimate innocence of the soul. I envision this as an internal place where an eternal moonlight shimmers smiling ripples on the surface of a calm lake on a summer night. Meditation needs no encouragement when we can reach this place of tranquility. It simply happens, captured in our even breaths of belonging. This vision brings forth a feeling of being in the moment-- restful and awake at the same time.

I believe we have the capacity to lasso this intimate silence where we find the guidance of a Higher power whenever we choose to find the time to peel away the meaningful layers first. I also believe it is an important endeavour as it allows us to sit in a tender place where we can disrobe in front of a mirror which reflects our true essence, bruises and all. It takes courage. It takes time and effort to peel away the layers.....

The outer layer's initial silence shivers in shyness. It has a self-conscious blush to it. We yearn for interuptions....anything to break the awkward adolesence.

The next layer is still trapped in a doubting uneasiness. We are caught thinking......"should I talk to fill in the silence? I wonder what others around me are thinking in their silence? What can I think of to fill the discomfort? This silence is so damn loud!"

ping,ping,ping,ping,ding,ding,ring,ring,ring

The third layer is a stepping away from the noise, though it can be heard in the murmuring echoes. This silence is where stillness begins, in the drumming of reflections. Every now and then we can hear the pongbong of the reflection, like a stone thrown into a pond. Ease is coming......the stone has to settle........the stone has to settle.... the senses heighten and turn inward.

The fourth layer of silence is found in the lapping of the ripples under the eternal moonlight. We envision a mesmerizing rippling on the surface as the eyes gaze inside the deep welling place. It is there where a sense of vulnerable brokenness finds some comfort. It is where you feel the most honest and strong while looking at the shadowy reflections of life’s realities.

The fifth layer brings a harmonic meditation........a kneeling thinness of even breathing, where palpitations are replaced by cradle comfort rocking to a welcoming hymnal hum. Standing on the shore, under the moonlight smiling shimmers, compassion in the silver stillness of our souls offers us the gift of seeing the beauty of our imperfections....our unique signature written in the sand. It's worth the trip.

**the photos of the silver pieces were taken at an auction I attended with my friend Jen last week. When I looked at them afterwards, the phrase silver stillness came to mind.....

This weeks' Photography theme is "Reflection...." no drab there! For more reflections check out Carmi's Written Inc site.