Sunday, June 21, 2009

limbo....wet with tears?


Daring to trust and to let go of power....
To be holy and to be whole.
To find one's own unity inside of oneself,
to find unity so that we're not just in the head or just in the flesh,

not just in the heart;
that inner wholeness is a type of peace and wisdom.
And we need wisdom.
Jean Vanier, Encountering the "Other"


I seem to be caught between having too much to say and not finding the words to say it and I've come to the conclusion this morning that this may be because I'm in the middle of some kind of transformation. I had been looking at it as a merely a transition, but I think its more than that. I think its bigger than inching along because it seems to be more than a move physically. What is shifting inside me. It feels like a multi-sensory step forward.

The problem is.........? I don't know what I'm about to encounter beyond where I am. Changes mean decisions. Changes mean disruption, both good and bad, painful and joyful. So, I seem to be sitting in the swirl of the new summer wind incapable of stepping off a precipice I've been gazing at for quite some time now. I don't want to feel hurt. I'm afraid of feeling hurt. Maybe it won’t hurt. Maybe it will bring new wonderful awareness. Wounds in the making or a new salve for healing? It's a mystery. How do I learn to take the risk?

I wrote an email to a friend last night, confessing to how I was feeling. I used the word "limbo" because it was the closest descriptor I could conjure up. Limbo to me feels like sitting in a big round waiting room, dimly lit, with an unwelcoming aura. The colours are blandly muted. The furniture is uncomfortable. The air is stale as are my ruminative thoughts. The noise is non-descript muzak and its echoing my disturbed state of mind.

Limbo feels passive and irritating, like I'm waiting for my name to be called while sitting surrounded by the ghosts of others who have been waiting so long that they have passed on!

I rub my temples and I wait.

I pace the round room and I wait.

I sit on the floor, pull my knees up and I wait.

Sleep is disturbed

Thoughts are disturbed

Feelings are disturbed

Questions go unanswered

I cry out. Does anyone hear me?

I learn to shed my ego.

I learn to let go of the tension....

I tune out the freaking musak...and try to find the silence knowing that inside it are words of peace. To get there though, you have to wade through the stewing sound of limbo-ing distrust and confusion. Transformation feels suspended. But it's NOT is it? Is transformation ever halted? That's an ILLUSION, just like how i am interpreting my glazed observations of the round waiting room where all the doors are closed....just like I'm witnessing the faceless people around me as apparitions rather than flesh and blood of people who feel and think and experience the same as me.

And this is what I’m realizing………….

Transformation never takes a holiday even if you’ve been feeling aimless for a long time. Limbo is a necessary part of the journey. Aimlessness is too. Why? Well, I’m thinking that this is where we learn to integrate the head and the heart….the thinking and the feeling in order to prepare for change, in order to prepare for the moment when choices and decision have to be made. Transformation is never a destiny. Instead, it is a process of allowing for the fermentation needed to turn water into wine. It is the process of letting go of the illusion of power we intensely hold tightly to and learning how to honour our wounds as gifts.

Last night, while sitting in the limbo waiting room wallowing in my own stale air, I picked up a book and read the words Jean Vanier shared when he was invited to speak at a conference in Northern Ireland in June 2004. Encountering the “Other….” As I slipped into the wisdom of his reflections, I felt a lifting of my own spirits and a desire to sit in the place he refers to as the “sacred sanctuary.”

This is where we encounter “the Other…” This is where we can feel comfortable looking at our own vulnerabilities knowing God sits with us and loves us for who we are and for who we are becoming. This is where our vision alters in a way that we can see that in order to take another step along the transformative path, we can begin by accepting ourselves…warts and all. This is where we share our stories in order to learn from one another. And then I realized…. There is no better place to share our stories than sitting in the sacred sanctuary of the ultimate waiting room.

Hmmm....maybe limbo is really a sacred sanctuary where we dare to trust and to learn to let go of power. Gee, all of a sudden it's not so ugly a place after all. In fact, I'm beginning to recognize quite a few folks here. They're beautiful humans becoming just like me. Wanna join us?

ps. Pip? I see beautiful you. x thank you my friend.....

Friday, June 19, 2009

a vision of you.....

I could be caught up in the most mundane errand and a surge of awareness presents itself by tickling my intuition located in the pit of my stomach. I'm left with a vision of your being, clear as midday, like you're standing before me rather than an apparition inside a memory. What's so fascinating to me is that there never seems to be a preceding trigger....no song snippet, no reminiscing thought of a time we were face to face catching up over a shared meal. It seems like this surge of you appears like a random flash of light that shines into a crevasse I'm not even acknowledging at the time I'm focused on the routine.

I see you. I see you inside me.
I feel your wrinkled smile behind my own eyes.
You presence warms me.
My first thought is to wonder if the same surge has struck you.....if at that exact moment you have a clear vision of me in you. Then, I wonder if you're alright. Because it is so startling...the poke you've left in my head....the stirring of my senses........, the connection I feel with you right there and then, I lose momentum for a second as I tumble towards you.
Sometimes when there is no way of talking to you or sending you an email, I whisper your name as a way to acknowledge the synchronistic feel, as my way of sending out a smoke signal into the wind hoping it will find you wherever you are, doing whatever you're doing. I whisper a message, send you my kindred echo to flow outward in a rippling wave hoping it will get caught in an air pocket once silent, now filled with a piece of my heart.
I wonder.....do you ever hear it? Do my telepathic messages touch you? Do they ever reach you in the middle of that moment? If I phoned you right then, even after all this time of not directly communicating, would you answer knowing it was me? I believe you would.
Sometimes, and NOT when I'm driving, I close my eyes to process my temporal visit with you, my eternal friend..... to prolong the happening....to register the meaning. What is its meaning, you ask? I honestly don't know the full story behind the reason for our woven souls....why its you and why its me. Chances are we won't figure it out in this lifetime. As you know, most everything I try to find meaning...I try to reason. I'm a "I want to know it person...." But when it comes to why God tossed us together in the first place, I'm calmly fine about it. For me, our connection is a lesson in providence. He does have a sense of humour, God. Who would've thought? No one would've predicted.

God had the original vision didn't He? We are the recipients of a gift. I knew it the moment it happened and I smile knowing that our entwining souls were a part of His gameplan. His lesson for us unfolds as it will.......beyond tangibility outward into a realm where answers are spoken by intuitive knowing.
No words. Just heightened insight. The best kind of vision there is....
_______________________________________
Sunday Scribblings word prompt this week is "vision." Timely since I experienced one of these moments just the other day. Do YOU experience this with a person in your life? There are a few people who "live inside me" and journey with me, some days with more prevalence than other days. What fascinates me about the kindred visions...the strong multisensory synchronistic feelings I receive is that they have grown in intensity since I began writing again and have connected with a few bloggers who have become near and dear to my heart. Though they live far away, I do experience moments when my vision of them are as clear as day. It is a gift I never expected when I began blogging and its one I treasure deeply.
For more eye popper vision...check out the Sunday Scribblings site.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

flooded



No man, when he hath lighted a candle,
putteth in a secret place,
neither under a bushel, but on a candlestick,
that they which come in may see the light.

Luke 11:33



Sometimes you need to light more than one candle to illuminate things. But then what happens if you light too many? It seems to me that it produces too many flickering shadows and you're left standing blindly exposed with an empty pack of matches in your hand worried that your house is about to be torched. I wonder if there are times when its best to sit in the dark.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

feys


Do you know what a fey is? She's a rare little winged fairy from the otherworld who alights her energy and clairvoyance upon humans who believe in her. Like all fairies, she was created from the pieces from a joyful laugh of a baby. Or so they say. And if you're very very lucky, you may have a chance to meet one.
Alex the Fey just may be visiting here in one week...... Stay tuned for more details........




Charles, are they sending you off to cover the troops? Mon Dieu!!


My friend Charles Leblanc has posted his "take" on what happened yesterday at the courthouse when he arrived for the "gathering..." Charles had been arrested on April 22nd for assault and trespassing onto the grounds of the New Brunswick Legislature while attempting to cover the protest that day for his blog. I wrote about it yesterday and received more than triple the number of hits than I usually do. Scroll down if you want to read my version. :)

Amazing how many folks are following the story....and most are good solid supporters of Charles even though he's a CRAZY Blogger!! Nothing like a good hearted crazyman with ADHD out there acting as our city's superhero. Who needs Superman when you have Charles Leblanc keeping an eye on things. Fredericton is much more interesting and far richer because of his unrelenting efforts.

Good to know Brian D. was there with you Charles. :) Bon chance mon ami..... you'll get some answers soon. Can I have the story/film rights to your life story?? Hmmm.... I wonder who would be best in the lead role? I'm partial to Robert Downey Jr. He's a bit nuts too.


Here it is.... and please do leave him an encouraging comment will you? thanks.


Monday, June 15, 2009

where's the party?



My friend Charles Leblanc was invited to attend a gathering in his honour this morning at the local courthouse. He supposedly "earned" this invite because he crossed onto the lawn of the New Brunswick Legislature in April to document the unfolding demonstration of concerned voters who were protesting against closing MacTaquac Park during the winter months. As with many other protests and rallies, our most famous New Brunswick blogger wanted to capture the emotion, the clashing and the stories behind it all. This is what he does and does WELL. This is what drives some folks CRAZY. My "in your face, ask too many questions, tell it like it is, take a slew of pictures, ADHD" friend attended the rally in April and was promptly arrested for trespassing and breach of whatever. You see, he was banned from the grounds in 2006.
In April 2009, after hundreds of visits to the Legislature and dozens of interviews with politicians and other muckymucks....many of which have been posted on his blogsite and on Youtube, someone decided to arrest him! It made no sense to me then, and it certainly makes no sense to me today. Consequently, Charles Leblanc was invited to a gathering at the courthouse in his honour today..... TODAY was the day. And guess what? His name wasn't on the list. Because of this little glitch....his name could not be called out loud. Did those folks who make the courthouse guest list up not see the big COUNTDOWN clock on Charles' blog?
So, what is that all about? Obviously there must've been some planning discussions behind the big wooden door on that cold day in April that the DAY had come to arrest an unsuspecting Monsieur Leblanc as soon as he arrived with his trusty camera and his effervescent directness to document the event. Wouldn't ya think? Or was it some random decision to cuff the guy and take him away, thereby putting a huge damper on the real story let alone the concerted efforts of the MacTacquac Park supporters? Either way, there must've been at least a little bit of discussion that the act of arresting Charles would automatically prove to be a political hot potato and would hit the media sideways.?? Yes? No? I mean, isn't this the same dude who took on the SJ Police force to argue his credentials as a verified media rep. after they confiscated his camera a while back? Isn't this the same person who made the National news by having the guts (or the craziness) to force the issue thereby moving the role of Blogger up a few notches on the journalism food chain?

Did someone think they could arrest Monsieur Leblanc without no one noticing. If a tree falls in the forest, will anyone notice it? Ah....well....Charles would. He'd be yelling TIMBER in both official languages while taking photos and riding his bike out of there. !!! His voice and his manner....and what he does has taught us to listen and to SEE when a tree falls. We notice now. We notice. And if we DONT notice, Charles barks and bellows until we wake the frig UP!
Action = Reaction.

Cause = Effect.
Confused....this is the word Charles used today as he stepped out of the courthouse when he realized his name wasn't on the docket. I'd be mighty confused too, and a wee bit stirred. He has been left with no direction, no explanation, no closure on the whole debacle. I don't see anything right about this whatsoever. Is he on the list or not? Is he charged with anything or not? Can someone clear this up? Puhlllleeeeze!

As much as he has the balls of a brave warrior and the yappiness of a pitbull, he also has another side to him too. The HUMAN side. As much as Charles has documented and played this story up on his blog (and of course he would.....) he also has other stories he works on too. The HUMAN stories. Hardly a soul pays attention to the other stories unfolding..... Charles does and he has introduced us to many of them....people, places, events, the issues of the marginalized....the joyful and the most sorrowful of them all..... as he learns about them himself. He's not afraid to put it all out there. By so doing, he stirs up hornets nests and forces many to discuss them. It's a good, good thing. He pays attention. And you know what, he reaches out to others more than you will ever know. And all of those people KNOW and are grateful. I know I am. And I know of a few others..... :)
His heart is huge. His heart is what leads him. Charles is truly a person no one forgets....
And yet...someone forgot to put his name on the list for the gathering at the courthouse??

So, my friend..... let me be the one to announce you.....

Hey Crazyman Charles!! Come out to play!! Bring your glove and we'll toss the ball around. I know a great locale...it's across the street from the Beaverbrook Art Gallery. Know it? Well, of course you do. You pitched a tent there one summer didn't you?


ps.....Hey Charles...You know how you told me all winter long that good things happen to good people? You were right. Now, I pass this message back to you. Good things happen to good people....especially to those like YOU who do good things for others. It's your turn.

Providence.....


"Providence is another name for the kindness of God. It we could realize how wise the providence around us is, it would give us immense confidence on our journey. The irony is that we don't need to worry. We can take a lot more risks than we realize. It is interesting to ask: What are the limits you have set for your life? Where are the lines of these limits? Why do you think you cannot go beyond them? How real are they? Did you construct these limits out of anxiety and fear? If you we to go beyond your most solidly set limits, what difference would it make to your life? What are you missing by remaining confined?

The awakening to the beauty of your creativity can totally change the way you view limits. When you see the limit not as a confining barrier, but as a threshold, you are already beyond. The beauty of imagination helps you to see the limit as an invitation to venture forth and view the world and your role in it as full of beautiful possibilities. You become aware of new possibilities in how you feel, think and act. The interim, the in-between world is brisk with possibility. And possibility is the gift of creativity. "
I wonder if Bono was inspired by Father O's writings? No Line on the Horizon....... :)
(photos of Miss Martha taken by good friend Miss Phoebe....both are creative beings. I love their energy.)

Sunday, June 14, 2009

alignment....


Recovery is an alignment of the head and the heart. Too much of one knocks you off balance. The key to finding alignment? Accepting love and forgiveness of one's spirit. And a good long walk in the rain.

breath...




I am who I am and who I am is not captured by a label, a role or an attachment to a cause. For if you look behind the face, behind my green eyes, underneath the layers of clothing past my freckly skin imperfections and stretched marks right into the core of my being, there is a light. Within that light is vitality. Inside this vitality is the breath of my spirit. This is the essence of who I am.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

magic and loss


When you pass through the fire
you pass through humble
You pass through a maze of self doubt
When you pass through humble
the lights can blind you
Some people never figure that out.
You pass through arrogance, you pass through hurt
You pass through the ever present past
and its best not to wait for the luck to save you
Pass through the fire to the light.

As you pass through the fire
your right hand waving
there are things you have to throw out
That caustic dread in your head
will never help you out.
You have to be very strong
'cause you start from zero
over and over again
As the smoke clears
there's an all consuming fire
lying straight ahead.

They say no one person can do it all
but you want to in your head
But you can't be Joyce
So what is left instead
You're stuck with yourself
and a rage that can hurt you
You have to start at the beginning again.
And just this moment
This wonderful fire starts up again.

When you pass through humble
when you pass through sickly
when you pass through
I'm better than you all
When you pass through anger and self deprecation
and have the strength to acknowledge it all
When the past makes you laugh
and you can savour the magic
that let you survive your own war
You find the fire is passion
and there's a door up ahead, not a wall.

As you pass through the fire
as you pass through the fire
trying to remember its name
when you pass through the fire licking at your lips
you cannot remain the same
And if the building's burning move towards that door
but don't put the flames out
There's a bit of magic in everything
and some loss to even things out
.......some loss to even things out

Lou Reed
I think Lou Reed was painted with the lyrical poetic brush similar to the one God used on Leonard Cohen. I think God left behind the paint brushes for them to be used as the implements for capturing their creative song spirits so visually and viscerally. While I'm thinking about this....another songwriting alleyway observer fits in with these two....gravel voice and all. Mr. Waits.

Now thats a trinity!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Going down the road....

The photo theme prompt this week at Carmi's place is "road." Surprisingly, I seem to have quite a few pictures of roads, all of which are far more eye appealing than this one, but none with more meaning. Worn and paint scraped with a few bumps and cracks in the foundation.....this a picture of a small portion of the old Trans Canada Highway.

Taken last summer after having dinner at a roadside diner about 20 miles "upriver" from where I live, I was so surprised at how empty it was. I grabbed my camera and stood on the pavement with NO concern that I would be hit except perhaps by a loose Moose! Progress had replaced this portion of our national highway with a much more expeditious route. As soon as it was built, this old one transformed into a designated scenic route that offers wide eyed glimpses of the Saint John River Valley. BEE-UUU-TEE-FULL!

Theoretically, this two lane “ribbon of highway” begins in Saint John's, Newfoundland and ends in Victoria, British Columbia. 4,680 miles long, it takes in some of the most beautiful scenery along the way….bodies of water, beautiful forests, majestic rivers, the Great Lakes, breathtaking snow capped mountains, undulating hills, small towns and villages, wide ranging farmland of the prairies and the spectacular rock faces of the Canadian Shield.

It cuts through industrial pockets and rides past enormous office buildings which sprout up and dot the outlying cities. It often parallels the train tracks, many of which have been turned into the Trans Canada Trail system. Designated picnic area stops, drive through Tim Horton’s and tourist information pavilions, and Mom and Pop diners and budget motels have their place along this multi faced road, as do hitchhikers, cyclists and truckers off to the side idling for some shut eye rest. From the shores of the Atlantic to the shores of the Pacific, this long and winding road symbolically connects us. I feel that deep in my bones.

Almost 22 years ago, in a jammed packed car driven by us and a stuffed little truck driven by a friend, my soon to be husband and I made the trek east along the Trans Canada highway to a new life together in a new province, in a new city. After 14 hours of driving, we would’ve made it to this point in the road….where I took the picture…..close to where we pulled off for much needed respite. I thought of that day while standing there remembering the move, but hardly recognizing the old road because in the summertime, it used to be vibrantly alive with slow moving camper vehicles and van of families all headed to vacation destinations. It was well used.

Meaning… this road takes me home…to my family and friends in Ontario and to my family and friends in New Brunswick. In fact, if you were to keep driving from this spot, you would end up driving right by the street which leads to my own. In the wintertime when the trees are bare, I can see the old highway from my living room. In the summer, I can only hear the infrequent echoes of the cars passing by. Some of them are folks opting for the scenic route. Some are people passing through onto a new life, or getting away from an old one. It holds meaning.


While standing there…..I also thought of Terry Fox as I looked down this straightaway and wondered what it was like for him when he reached this spot in his trek across the country. His story is etched into this cracked and worn pavement. I could almost picture him coming towards me. His Marathon of Hope story was picking up steam and being passed along from one person to another....there's a good chance that the people whose homes line the highway were out waving him on..... I can picture it completely.

Our national hero….a young man with a dream as wide as this country. His determination continues to inspire me. Accompanied by his best buddy who believed in him, Terry Fox dipped his artificial leg into the Atlantic to start the run. His plan was to dip it into the Pacific when he completed the journey. 4,680 miles of sheer will.

We all know he never had a chance to finish it on his own. Cancer got him again….knocked him right off the Trans Canada near Thunder Bay. But his legacy and spirit continues to be carried in the hearts of every Canadian….his goal to raise money for Cancer research…to find a cure….was passed onto the people from coast to coast who continue to organize “Terry Fox runs” every September, who continue to tear up every time they think of his stamina and guts! More than anyone else before or after (except for the 1972 Canadian Hockey team…J), Terry Fox linked Canadians together. More than anyone else, this young man pulled a bunch of separate communities together. He ran on this pavement…… Hop, skip, run…..

Yes, this little photo is a patch of the larger ribbon of highway. It holds meaning. It holds the collective history of a vast country filled with people who know one another.

Thank you Carmi for the prompt. As usual, you kick started my memories. For more road stories, check out Written Inc....

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

the vanity of a delusion

There is a cloudy film on her internal lens that smears her vision. It wasn't always there. It developed over years of trying to escape the painful truth ..... the same truth she continues to turn her attention away from and instead towards seducing a chimerical notion.
She never felt loved. She never felt worthy of it. These messages, which she heard inside her head over and over again until they echoed with quickening vibrations like the high pitched cry of a collicky baby. Whether this was the truth or not, it didn't matter. Haunted and hunted, this message became her acidic reality....one that poked holes in her snared heels where her soul drained out. It left her an empty chasm in need of vital attention only restored when she consumed her thoughts with pleasuring. Pleasuring herself. Fed by a powerful anger that simmered under black latex protection, her wants overheated logical thinking and left her salivating in her own ruminations. She set her sights and never turned away.
over and over and over.....
the same self talk....
messages created by an imagination gone awry
over and over and over.....
until she was completely convinced.
Most of the time, she packaged her unrelenting hunger to be recognized as worthy by ensuring that others around her perceived her actions as self-less, helpful, innocently offered. She was a giver! Many only saw her outer persona as socially capable and always giving of herself. Like a flimsy house of cards, however, her projected life was only an illusion. She knew it somewhere deep down in her subconcious, but she had convinced herself so intensely that the fallacies were rooted in rich soil. They were real, NOT fantasy. She held onto this belief......

When anyone questioned the contradictions she portrayed, she was able to sway them somewhat with her fabrications or poked her finger into their triggerpoints. She protected her stories by learning to embrace the role of the martyr .... a victim of the bile of others. Her answers to others were never exactly the same, though they had one thing in common: they were vaguely written perambulations which never answered the questions.
Her bewildering lies soon became her truth. It was like living inside a blender where there was absolutely no way of knowing what the original ingredients were or of what was natural or artificial flavouring. The more someone questioned, the more incensed she would become that someone wouldn't believe in her soft downy innocence. Even with evidence foisted under her twitching nose, she would never relent....never let down her guard to admit that she was a product of a delusion.

Sadly, more and more saw the picture she painted as a mirage until the early life message she convinced herself was true, that she was unloved, became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Her vanity fanned delusions took her full circle. But, she would never admit that failure to herself. Oh, no! She wasn't wrong!! She hadn't created the mess!! Instead, she blamed everyone else for being so screwed up that they would NEVER understand how much she sacrificed and how much she deserved her pleasures.



Hmmm......I wonder if she should consider running as a candidate in the next election?? She seems to have the right kind of profile.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

soulmates

(dawn's early light...the view from my backdeck, june 8, 2009)
It happens in a flash
when you're least expecting it,
under sleepy eyes opening
to draw in a dawning of something very special.

In a blink,
two flames merge
channeling into one spirit
of effortless honesty and mutual understanding.

Soulmates....
move to a rhythm of blending lifetimes
and form from a mixture of tears and clay.

Simple yet deeply eternal
Clear yet vibrantly profound
Effortless yet energetically alive
Comforting yet soulfully emotional.
Pleasing yet discomfortably stretching.
Surprising yet divinely meant to be.

Spiritual beyond reason.
Rare beyond a dream come true.
Anything is possible when fate alights
like catching a firefly on a winter night.
When you encounter your soulmate, its like tasting mountain spring water from their cupped hands after a long walk alone in the high altitude. You have no idea where they have come from, but they arrive under a clear blue sky when there is a mutual need to quench each other's thirst.

this week's Sunday Scribblings (yeah I'm late....) is Soulmate..... For more kindred interpretations, check out their blog.

Monday, June 08, 2009

blindness

If you look straight into the middle of the sun, you're left with dark spots floating before your eyes. Too much light is blinding. Temporarily. Too much reality is blinding as well. Temporarily. Both shock your system leaving a sense of discomfort you want to flee. What happens to your body if the shocking light stays on and on and on?

Panic
Palpitating heartbeats
Racing thoughts
Shallow breaths
Electric impulses
Sensory overload
Rushing adrenaline........over and over and over......
Anxiety.

If you walk into a theatre after the lights have been turned off.....just before the movie is about to begin, your hands automatically go up in front of you as your grope around for something solid to grasp onto. Darkness disables our sight. Temporarily. "Coping" with our own reality, by repressing, supressing or pushing it off into a recessed corner disables our sight as well. Temporarily. What happens if you continue to live in the absence of light?

Panic
Palpitating heartbeats
Racing thoughts
Shallow breaths
Sensory overload
Anxiety time and again...
Numbness, numbness......dulling the pain......
Depression.

We try to do everything in our power to avoid the extremes.....those deer caught in the headlight moments and those dank dark tunnel times.....especially if they lurk too often. They make us feel completely discombobulated....incapable and weak. Survival mode kicks in and we put up the shell of self absorption, or try to turn our attention on someone else possibly even overreacting to their drama because its a place to put our own anxieties. We turn into helpers, rescuers, lifesavers....or this is how we see ourselves. Others may see it very differently.

Quite often, because we are so determined to avoid our own house of horrors, we overdo our "helping" and get in the way of someone else's growth and learning. I have been guilty of this. Because of some circumstances where I have tried to "help" or to "rescue," I have neglected my own shadowy demons to a point where I realized the light was TOO bright and I completely backed away. Another time that comes to mind as I write this, I pushed too hard to help and drove the person away. I think its called smothering.....or perhaps "s'mothering" is more apt! Not that I did it out of anything but kindness....but I did it for the wrong reasons....to avoid my own shadows. Not good for either side of the equation. It wore me out rather than energized me and it impacted a friendship.

There are times when I wish I had a magic wand to take away someone else's pain. I wish I had a magic wand to take away my own when it comes to visit. But, I don't. No one does. Pain, which is the offshoot of anxiety and depression, gets a very bad rap. It HURTS! But, it is also a necessity for survival and for personal growth. It is essential and according to Paul Brand is "the gift nobody wants." When we FEEL pain, whether its physical or emotional....whether its a great big dark crevasse spiritually.... we must learn to recognize it for what it is.... a beacon, a signal in need of attention.

We never have to go it alone, though it is an option offered to us. Isolation rarely heals because of its massive potential for internal cyclical ruminations which eventually leads to a sense of believing there is no exit from the darkened theatre. But, being rescued is no better as it never allows for new learning from the experience... (and can I just add here that this is THE worst thing a parent can do for their child is to continue to rescue them..... how the heck will they ever learn to personally deal with life???).

Too much light....not enough light......signals we are in crisis. The very best thing you could for do me and the very best thing I could do for you? NOT to go into rescue mode...not to take on someone else's suffering...... Just to quietly sit beside one another right in the middle of the mess. Tough to do, to sit in someone else's suffering, or to allow someone else into your own, but if we can't do that as human beings for one another, then we've completely missed the point of why we are here on this planet taking part in God's creation of humanity aren't we??? This is compassion. Sitting in the suffering.
Interestingly, temporary blindness has the capacity to lead to new sight...."insight..."

So how do we get there? How do seek out that beacon, where the light is just right?? How do we adjust the light so it isn't so darn blinding?? All it takes to make this happen is for one of us to utter three very important words...to a friend, a doctor, a minister, a psychologist, a psychiatrist, a stranger .... someone you can trust....

"Please help me....."
Why is it that we choke on these words so often? Why do we dredge the suffering on by denying we need help?

ps. I chose the photo to accompany this piece because I loved the fact that this geranium was a slip cut from a plant and is re-rooting. Such a beautiful bloom, but also it has a few leaves that are damaged and dried up...and the stem isn't straight. It has lived long, perhaps in the garden last year and was reborn into a different form of beauty. Last night, it sat in a vase with such elegance over my friend Jen's kitchen sink. The late afternoon sun caught in its spaces.....its red petals sung with a promise of strength....its roots replenished with goodness. Soon it will join the rest of the garden.

Saturday, June 06, 2009

deception....


Who lives on the island called Fool's Paradise surrounded by a mirage of delusionary hope? YOU DO! I know, I know ... you deny this vehemently ....
Who cries out with incessant histrionics too painfully misguided to be believable except to the one who cries the purple tears? YOU DO! Yeah...sure ... I hear your whacky explanation. I don't believe it.
How does someone function under such fantasies instead of the truth? And why? Why does someone work so damn hard not to be honest about their behaviour, both past and present? Is it because they spend all of their energy living a lie, creating many facades that NEVER interact with one another that somewhere along the line the truth has become so diluted by crocodile tears? Have they been so wounded and abused in the past that they don't have the capacity to act any differently because they really don't trust anyone? Wow, what a lot of work!

For a long time, you tried to keep me close as you manipulated your way through the maze of deception. I saw through your act ages ago. You know this.....and it terrifies you. I have become part of your deepening haunting shadow and you hate me for it. I have joined the previous folks who saw through your convoluted web and into your obsessive need to play a role, to wear a mask, to don a people pleasing persona even though deep down... the folks who clearly see that you think you're better than everyone else on this planet and this scares you to a point where you're determined to try to keep me close. Sad, pathetic, so alone YOU. Yes, entitlement is your achilles heel, as is your unrelenting belief that you are pure and unblemished.....that YOU do nothing wrong. You give, and give and give.....and why does the rest of the world not understand all that you have forfeited?

You trust no one.....NO ONE..... but like a hungry black widow, you keep this secret under wraps. Too bad your hunger is too ravenous, which at times makes you let that false skin down only to reveal your vulnerabilities.

What is interesting is that when you write.....you attempt to describe your vulnerabilities. You choose words carefully..........NOTHING comes out of you that you havent poured your energy assessing, contemplating, regurgitating. But, once someone realizes how wounded you really are, your vulnerabilities, used as weapons to trigger others seem juvenile.... pendantic.... pathetic.

What you hide, you hide from yourself. What you reveal? Here's the secret..... you reveal your sorrowful soul.... exactly what you are trying your hardest to keep under wraps. Why can't you just be honest about how you really feel, what you really think instead of trying to hammer a wedge between others? Why can't you just admit you're threatened and you need help? Why can't you come forward and admit your wrongdoings?

Why? Because the feelings you so aptly write about are feelings you never dare to embrace fully. Or maybe you do, but you can't imagine anyone else feeling the same way. It's like the intensity of how YOU feel outweighs anyone's elses. It's all very strange. I call it passive aggressive foreplay. Play on... by yourself.

What would happen if you did decide to leave the island of Fool's Paradise? Gee, maybe you'd find your soul.......and leave behind the "poor me" fashion and the "Nobody understands me" bullshit. Maybe you'd get real....to admit who you really are and learn to love yourself.

Deception....you intrigue me with your mind twisting confusion because I want to know the reason behind your need to control the relationships you eventually mess up. I wonder how you can keep things straight.... how you keep the revolving door of people in your life straight. Who have you told what whipped up story to????

I guess it comes down to the fact that you don't trust a soul. Always on the tipping point of being revealed as the con artist human you are, you never relax except when you drown yourself in the addiction of choice.....food, booze, drugs.....sex. When does it stop? Can you stop or are you suffering something greater than a good look in the mirror would help.

Can I suggest something? Can I suggest that it's time to seek help.....professional help and begin to admit the reason behind your incessant lies, rouge cheeked faces, your phoney posturing? Its time to stop the emotional manipulation. It's time to lift your veil to reveal you own brokenness. It's time to fess up, deal with whatever demons you harbour and heal.

And please stay clear of my life.... I'm sick of your head games, your lacey cheap perfumed attempts at empathy, and I won't let them or YOU interfere with my life anymore. Your mind games have become boring. The time I have spent trying to help and to figure you out has dried up.

ps....HEY! Anyone out there who has felt the whoring of deception in their lives before?? It's a mindtrip, thats for sure.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

summing it up....and looking forward....


17 years ago, I was an instructor at the local Community College. It was a contract position, which in some ways forced me to take on subjects I would never have considered teaching. When I was asked if I was willing to take on another course, I bravely accepted the challenge (and went home freaking while I figured it out.) When you're flying by the seat of your pants, trying to develop a portfolio of marketability, when you're the one paying the bills putting your spouse through university while establishing yourself in a new city with a minimal career network, when you are the lowest on the totem pole, you dig deep into your own reservoir of skills and open yourself up to learning as you go. That's how I saw it. That's how I approached it.
For four years, I worked from contract to contract without a break between them. Because one can't turn down an opportunity when you're a casual/contract staff person I worked my ass off, sometimes teaching by day and night!! However, teaching and facilitating was not how I had envisioned my career. I had never taken a teaching course ever!!!
I had always thought I'd be working with children, and had studied in the field of counselling and assessment of children. I even focused primarily on pre-schoolers and had a few years while living in Toronto at a rehabiliation centre establishing a sensory stimulation program for children with multiple disabilities. The program I created continues today. Needless to say, I was determined at this point in my career to find this stream....to work with children with special needs in the school system or in a hospital setting. I struggled seeing myself as a teacher of adults. In many ways it was so far removed from my perceived career goal. But, I loved it. I loved it.

I remember the first subject I was hired to teach.....Developmental Psychology. It was a night course for childcare workers who were taking courses towards their diploma in their field. I had been given a text book and a syllabus with a bunch of objectives and learning outcomes listed. That was it. It was up to me to lay out the 2 nights a week for 10 weeks.....all of it! Daunting? You bet!! No internet....no computers. I had reference books and a typewriter. I had my knowledge of the subject matter and the field of childcare/preschool. I started by thinking about the teachers I had learned the most from and why.....and went from there. It was an instinctual jumping into the wild. That's how it felt. I was determined to get the class to talk....to share and to learn from one another. It would not be a passive classroom. They were sitting there as experts working in the field. They had the answers. And they did......and i learned. And it worked. Trial by immersion!!!!!
Human Relations, Effective Writing Skills, Family Dynamics, Introduction to Psychology, Early Childhood theory, Working with Exceptional Children, Goal Setting for Employment, Life Skills, Preparation for Employment, Career Orientation, Stress Management, Counselling, Human Services...... I taught them all and repeated a few of them. The Life Skills program, a 4 week interactive group counselling program for people on Income Assistance.....the first step to moving into the world of work.....?? I ran 24 of them back to back. The skills I developed and honed have been invaluable. And somewhere along the line, I accepted the fact that I really enjoyed the field of Adult Education....even took a couple of courses in it after the fact. It was a good fit for me.

One of the activities I did on the side was individual counselling. It just sort of evolved. Students sought me out, and I was more than willing to lend and ear. At the time the College didn't have guidance counseling services on site despite the evidence of how much it was needed. I tried to lobby for it, thinking that perhaps this could be a niche that may lead to full time permanent employment. But, the political will wasn't there. I continued counselling the students, lending a listening ear, encouraging them, motivating them,.....helping them process their own stuff, helping them make some decisions. I kept tabs on the numbers of students I helped in this way in order to prove to the powers that be there was a need. No such luck.
Eventually, I was hired away from the College....there was no job security there.....to work as the counseling specialist in the frontlines of the welfare office. The skills I had acquired and the love and interest I had to working with people who were living on income assistance trying to find a way out of the margins and into the heart of the work world made this job a good fit. And over the ensuing years, I jumped at any chance to develop training, consult, coach, facilitate, counsel, deliver workshops. I worked on special projects, trained staff around the province...... I had my wings....a lot of creative freedom and a respect from the powers that be that I had gifts which they recognized and wanted me to utilize.

For much of the time, I still had a vision that I would eventually make it into the field I had such a passion for ..... Early Intervention..... working with little ones. Somewhere along the line, I was given this opportunity but quickly realized that what I wanted to do in this field and what the bureaucratic jungle wanted me to do was very different, so I dropped that and moved back into the frontlines working with adults. I'd come and go.....working on different programs and projects, being pulled to deliver workshops to staff in other cities, designing and developing, but I always returned to the counselling.
After 10 years of accumulative learning and honing my skills and seeing how comfortably and easily I connected with the individuals I met and walked a mile or two with, a light bulb went on (I remember the moment it happen.....!) and I realized I was living and working in my calling. It hadn't occured to me that I was where I was supposed to be. As much as I loved working with children..... once I acknowledged that my ability to connect with adults, many of whom were in crisis, I felt a sense of calm inside me which I had never felt before. This "calling realization" happened around the same time that my writing returned with a vengeance along with my interest in my faith. I began to see my work in the marginalized trenches of the world of poverty as where I was supposed to be.

Fast track over the last couple of years, which I've written about ad nauseaum on this blog. It has been an unrelenting struggle, working in a place that had changed some dramatically. Fear enveloped leadership, communication consisted of veiled and direct threats. My wings were clipped. I went from being a part of a team who felt like family to being ripped away from them and thrown into another division with a group of people unfamiliar with what I could offer under the so called guidance of a person who obviously felt threatened by my energy and presence.
For two years, I languished in a setting without a gameplan, a workplan, without much acknowledgement of how i could help out. I was told I was a misfit....that I was difficult to work with.....that they didn't know what to do with me. When I complained, I was told to recognize how lucky I was to have a job and to try working under the radar. It numbed me, challenged me, wounded me....but it taught me (and most definately fed my writing!!) I tried to get out of there. I applied for different jobs, was shortlisted and interviewed for a few of them. Even this process ended up being tremendously painful emotionally as I somehow in the long run losing 2 close friends over it all. This part of the story is still hurtful.

Thank God there were friends and family who were there to support me through this emotional minefield....who knew what I was capable of....who knew how it was impacting me.... who literally saw me at my worst. .... who continued to encourage me to keep putting my neck out, to apply for different jobs, to continue with my writing, to keep paddling my canoe. Thank God they knew I could push through the mess, because when my job was cut I was alright. It didn't hurt as deeply emotionally as it did for others. I had been through too much prior to that.... the job cut seemed like a surface scratch in comparison. Knowing I was moving into another position, albeit temporarily, I was hopeful and glad to get out of the toxic work environment.
A month ago, the first day of my new gig, I received an email from a person I had been in touch with on and off for a year. She and I had met and worked together years ago at the College.... and now she's the Principal. I had held hopes that a teaching position would surface for me.... So, when her email popped up on my screen, I thought it was about this possibility. It wasn't. Instead..... she was getting in touch to inform me that a full time permanent counselling position had been approved and was I interested? WAS I INTERESTED????

Yesterday, I was formally offered the position and I enthusiastically accepted. Starting in July, I will be moving back to the College to set up counselling services.....from birth. It's mine to create.... from 20 years of hands on personal learning, with a city wide/provnice wide network, with counseling and facilitating skills, with my whole heart.
When I phoned home yesterday to touch base with my son after his school day, I told him the news.....

"Are you happy?" he asked

"Yes I am!" I replied.
"Good....I want you to be happy, Mom...."
It's been a rough ride for my whole family. My son's reaction and response spoke volumes.........my misery is theirs too. My happiness is felt by them as well.
Last evening, I headed down to the river to capture the evening light reflections as the sun went down. I watched two women dock their little boat after an evening fishing. I watched two men paddle upstream in their kayak right to the river's edge. And I took in the evening routine of a momma duck and her little ones head to the tall grass for the night after a day of learning ducklife skills. Their collective activities....calm and satisfying mirrored my own feelings and my own desire to grab a paddle and stern my canoe again into a cove I was destined to return to.

Life is good. And this turn of events....this little/big twist in my convoluted career path is bathed in the light of a blessing.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Dusk on the Saint John River

A tip of the hat

A wink and a nod

A soft shuffle exit

A touch of elegance before the final curtain

One last beautiful breath

captured in the smooth sound of Sinatra....

Melodic right down to the last croon.

Encore!

Nice and easy does it every time......

Bravo!


This week's theme at Carmi's place is dusk. These photos were taken a couple of weeks ago just up the hill from where i live. We are blessed to witness the glory of the sunset simply by looking out our window. But the best view is up on Springhill Road or down by the river's edge on an evening when the water turns to a pool of glass. Tonight, we are in for a stunner. You know, my dusk is someone's elses dawn. I like that thought. For more natural beauty, check out Carmi's blog. You're in for a colourful show.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Cointreauversational Questions and Answers....


I seem to be having a tough time pulling my writing thoughts together over the past couple of days.... short attention span....... other priorities ...... hovering in limbo waiting to hear some news related to my career (good news, but still waiting...) I suck at waiting. Just ask my family who make me wait for them at least once a day, and then stand back as my head explodes.

Tonight, Pip posted these questions on his blog and they intrigued me. They stirred up a bunch of golden thought threads I may tug on beyond here, where I can delve a little deeper into the secret "whys" and "how comes." As much as I share quite a bit of myself on this site, it is only the tip of the iceberg, some of which is still hidden from me. Questions like these provoke and poke, twist and braid, tug and pull at the golden threads..... unravel too. I like that process.

1. What colour would describe you interior right now?

A dark shade of purple.....the colour you see long after the sun has slipped beyond sight. I love the idea of mixing red with blue. Vibrant heat with Azure cool. Purple is the colour of royal contradictions. Paradoxical purple.... moving into dark.

2. What colour would describe your exterior you right now?


A much lighter shade of purple ...... though if you looked at the back of my neck you'd see red. I was gardening all afternoon and was slapped by the sun. No pain....just heat and it feels good and healthy.

3. What feeling is predominant right now?

My feelings seem to run the gamut these days. I blame whacky blasts of estrogen on top of a continued sense of being unsettled which makes me impatient, uncomfortable, doubtful on top of hopeful. But, if I had to pinpoint one predominant feeling right.at.this.moment as I reflect on the day?

Satisfied.....

4. Which human person is inside your head right now?

One of my oldest friends has been visiting me in my head tonight. Its a rare occasion when we have a chance to catch up, but its a rare day when I don't think of our friendship at least once. In fact, I am convinced that our thoughts are often simultaneous. This comforts me on many levels.

5. When was the last time you prayed?

I try to keep a prayer going all the time, and began to believe so after I read this quote by Frederick Buechner... "Everybody prays whether [you think] of it as praying or not. The odd silence you fall into when something very beautiful is happening or something very good or very bad. The ah-h-h-h! that sometimes floats up out of you as out of a Fourth of July crowd when the sky-rocket bursts over the water. The stammer of pain at somebody else's pain. The stammer of joy at somebody else's joy. Whatever words or sounds you use for sighing with over your own life. These are all prayers in their way. These are all spoken not just to yourself but to something even more familiar than yourself and even more strange than the world. "

When I really stopped and focused on a prayer was the other day. I was sitting in my van in the parking lot where I now work. I had been rushed and feeling discombobulated over all the changes in my work life. In order to calm myself, I sat quietly and repeated the words of St. Francis ..... as a way to seek some inner peace. It truly refreshed me.

6. When is the last time you wept?

Last night. I was exhausted and felt emotionally drained. It seemed like a cleansing. I slept soundly afterwards.

7. Describe the connection between 5 and 6?

Tears are never too far away from me, but I'm fine with them. They may make others feel uncomfortable, and its not that I don't care about making them uncomfortable, but I actually don't care if I make them uncomfortable. Sometimes tears hit me when I'm praying. This happens mostly when my cup is too full and they just spill out of that place.

Tears come from a place of joy too, or when I let my guard down in order to feel deeply when something profound occurs. This happened yesterday morning when a colleague was describing an amazing encounter she had over the weekend. Her stories often leave me with a rush of tears because she has such a strong spiritual side to her and can encapsulate it in a story that always moves me. I am blessed to be working closely with her every single day.

8. Name three activities which help you in your wholeness journey?

Writing, photography

and connecting with people .... counselling, facilitating, emailing, blogging, over dinner, just hanging out.

9. Say when you last actually participated in those activities?

Every single day..... as much as I can.

10. Will you think of a question for me and send it?

Yes..... and if you would like me to send you a question, leave me a comment and I will custom design one for you....!! And if you would like, you leave your answers to any of Pip's questions as a comment here. I would LOVE to read your thoughts....!

Pip? Here is your "cointreauversational" question my emerald friend..... :)

Is there a book you've read which impacted your way of thinking and living to a point where you felt an internal transformational shift?

"The greatest friend of the soul is the unknown..."




"Fundamentally, there is the great silence that meets language; all words come out of silence. Words that have a depth, resonance, healing, and challenge to them are words loaded with ascetic silence. Language that does not recognize its kinship with reality is banal, denotative, and purely discursive. The language of poetry issues from and returns to silence."John O'Donahue