Trust-Me Boulevard.

 thin skinned beauty

The other day as I was driving home, I ploughed through a mass of dandelion fluff floating through the air.  Millions of feathery seeds once attached to a stem had  uplifted from the field beside the road and then got caught in a breezy travelling draft only to eventually disperse and settle to begin the cycle again on someone else's lawn.  My car parted through the fluff.  Before I knew it, I was on the other side this dandelion storm heading in the same direction.  Smiling.  It was a very cool experience.

I was reminded of this tiny burst of a moment tonight when I was trying to figure out where I've been and why I haven't been able to settle down enough to write.  I realized that whenever I've tried, I couldn't harness my thoughts.  I couldn't remain attached to the stem of an idea.   I have been emotionally, cognitively, physically uprooted.  Spiritually too. 

At first inward glance, I focused on the negative reasons.  We tend to do that don't we?  As much as I strive to be a "glass half full" person and can encourage someone else to alter their inward glances from the negative to a more productive positive, when I'm at my worst I can't make the switch very well at all.  So, I looked at it from that angle and this is what I saw...........

There have been days when I've felt like a train wreck and I'm so bloody busy trying to keep up with everything I have to do around here!  Exhausted, alone, overwhelmed.  Discarded.  I second guess myself.  I let my confidence sag like milkless breasts.  OOOOOoooooo!  I get all chilled and flushed at the same time even writing about it/thinking about it because the most predominant feelings that stream through me are shame and guilt. Failure. My emotions are so raw and on the surface way too much these days. There are many reasons for this which have left me with a sense of stalled vulnerability.... a heart open too wide and for too long.  This leads to serious brain flooding and over reacting!  And a jumble of questions........ ones that certainly don't have easy answers.

How do you love like you've never been hurt when you've been hurt?  How do you truly forget or let go of past shambles so that it doesn't impact a new relationship?  There has to be a way.  There has to be a different avenue.  I keep seeking.  I want the street I seek to be named Trust-Me Boulevard, but I think it will have a new name.  I just don't know where it is or what it will be called but let me catch a draft heading in that direction. Please! 

What happens if allow your inward glance to lean towards a more positive perspective? This is actually where I am tonight.  For the first time in weeks, I am breathing differently.  I think.  For now anyways.  No doubt I have been scattering my energy in too many different directions.  Scampering and scattering.  Unbalanced.  Seemingly floating in air without the tendrils to keep me grounded.  Caught in a draft.  Seeking and fearfully uncomfortable as I take new risks, form new relationships and TRY to juggle everything else in my life I must focus my attention on.  

However, it may not be such a bad place to be at all.  Challenging!  FOR sure!  Taxing? YES!  Messy?  YOU BET!  But, being in this place of transitional movement is ripe for opportunity.  I'm learning every day.  I'm also getting things done around here.  Maybe not as efficiently as I should or would or could.  But, I am.  New front steps.  Repainted another room.  Decluttering as best as I can.  I've got a load of gravel sitting in my driveway just waiting for someone to shovel and level it!  Any offers?!!  

The garden is blooming.  So are the weeds.  The lawn is lush green and where there were patches of winter kill, it is newly seeded.  The laundry isn't folded. There are cobwebs and dust in the corners of my home.  But my kids are thriving and so am I.  In spurts and starts and stalls and stops.  My love life is a bit of a minefield, but that's to be expected.  I'm learning to trust again.  Tearfully, fearfully, bravely.... in my own wonky way.

I'm also experiencing many many many light bulb awakening moments.  Big stuff!  Big blooming stuff..... like how messed up my boundaries are with the people in my life ...... and how much they have altered.  I'm learning that I have a long way to travel when it comes to trust again...... and I realized tonight that the name of the avenue I am looking for won't be named Trust-Me Boulevard.  Rather, the first street I seek out will be  Trust-IN-Me Place.  This comes with letting myself off the hook by stopping the shame and guilt feelings.  Acknowledging them of course, but then telling them to piss off!

If I'm ever going to be like that dandelion fluff and settle down again to begin a new cycle,  I have to be patient with the journey, and accept the fact that it will never be a straight arrow path.  Air drafts, like the pockets of unexpected life messes take you to destinations you may never have seen before.

Hey God are you around these days??  Will you take a moment to check on me... just for some reassurance.  Please let me learn to be more accepting and less sensitive to judgement.  Let me settle where I land.  Let me bloom there on Trust-In-Me Place.  I just know its where I belong........ it's where I can learn that hard lesson of loving again like Ive never been hurt.  Gotta trust in me first, right God? 

love is a direction...

Soft shoe meandering tonight after a week swarmed by the buzzing energy of meaningful connections.  Beautiful, heartwarming, across the waters, fingertip lightening connections.  Front and centre, within my reach, embracing arms connections.  Over the phone, face to face, smiling eye recognition.  

Affirmation from voices, from looks, from shared stories..... texting flirts.  Texting facts.  Texting observations, feelings..... Humans expressing stress.  Fear. Delight. Gratitude.  Humans responding to my request for help with open arms, with encouragement.  Humility.  Me responding to someone else's needs.  Gratitude and humility.  

We help each other.  Its the best we can offer.  Love directing.

I held a newborn this week.  Cuddly little sleepyhead in caterpillar purple.  Sigh.  Time stopped as I inhaled the sweetness of her tiny being. 

Hips groove to a reflective tempo tonight.  Jazzed up salsa with feathery drum touches filters through the airwaves to surround me in upbeat momentum.  Not like a rave.  More like a spirit that moves its limbs like the body suit of a cat awakening.  High notes bleeding into the nostalgic earth.  It makes me feel grounded.  Barefoot on cool pine floors.....

I watched my children cocooned in their deep sleep..... burrowed under favourite covers.  Dreaming their own colours.  Their own beat.  Completely safe.  Utterly relaxed.  Sigh.  

I love late night radio..........  with its static touches from far off sounds beyond the woods.  Down a well travelled road.  Along the winding river darkened by a starless sky.  Settled under streetlamps moistened by raindrops.  Never ending raindrops....  It brings music that shares its own stories from a musician's zone flow.  I can picture them completely immersed in creating emotion from their strings..... making them laugh, cry, whine....... the human and the instrument blending together emerging from a studio....... from one microphone outward to reach my ears.  Absorbing it......

I listened to young love conflictions.  New complications.  Big flooding feelings and what to do about them.  His own Mom was away.  On the week he REALLY wanted her guidance.  I replaced his Mom for a short time.  He needed to tell me how happy he is to be with the girl of his dreams........ but what to do about the best friend who likes her too?  What to do?  I listened.  I asked......... tell me what you think you should do.  What do you think you're Mom would say?  He smiled......... and thought and remembered other coversations with his gentle soul Mom.  "Do what is right...."  she would've said........ Then, he knew how he would handle the conflictions.........

"Do you know what is right to do?"   It all depends.  On the complications  and the situation .......  

I'm tired.  Good tired.  Deep rooted gladness fatigue right down into the tips of my soaken soul.  

It wasn't all gladness.  This week.  No.  Sometimes it felt like I was pushing heavy air up a hill.  Sometimes, it felt like I was going to burst out of a tear bubble and land flat on my sorry ass.  Sometimes, all I could do was put one foot in front of the other.  Sometimes, I allowed someone to play hopscotch on my heart.  No soft shoe hopscotch. Heavy shoes.  It hurt.  It was confusing.......  It triggered my feelings of rejection to a point where I thought I'd be swallowed up again. 

Then, something would happen to turn the rain clouds upside down.  

Like a reunion with someone I can shed inhibitions.... let go of the roles, the masks........ escape for a while.  

Like meeting a new friend who burst into my life like a rainbow of blending personalities.  We only talked for a short while, as we shook our heads wondering how the heck we had never met before.  So much in common.  

Like watching my friend cross the finish line after running her very first 1/2 marathon on sore sore feet and a wonky muscle in her back.  She bested her time by a whomping amount.  How bursting proud I was of her overcoming so many personal and winter weather obstacles to be able to run with her head held high and all of us watching her achieve this goal.  She's now soaking her feet in Rome on a trip with her Mom.  The first time they've ever been able to get away together just the two of them. 

Like seeing the pre-midterm nervousness zip through my daughter's whole body only to see her hours later relieved that all of her hard work paid off.  Her smile melts my heart.  Her hugs melt me too.  A month from now, she'll be graduation from high school and heading off to camp for the summer.  Bittersweet life forging ahead.....

Like seeing my son........ with the crackling voice galoomp into the kitchen with new long legs raring to share a few funny stories from his day............... head in the cupboards looking for crackers!  His delight peaked too when he found out that the trip to Toronto next week is now on the agenda.   My 13 year old off on an independent adventure.  Am I ready?  He is.  I am. Maybe.

Like accomplishing the practical things around here.   Painting my bathroom, even hanging up the heavy mirror on my own without breaking it!  A guy named Shirley fixed my lawn mower and gave me shit for not properly storing it for the long winter!  Ooops!  Thanks Shirley.  Next week, a big hearted man named Edgar will fix my front steps.  It's all happening........... so often this spring I've been overwhelmed by these practical things.  Now, I see progress......... Upside down clouds! 

Like having a friend lending me her black heels to wear to a fancy dress ballet gala at the last minute so I didn't look like a flat footed underdressed fool beside my man in his tuxedo.  She is always one phone call away.  Just up the hill.  My angel.  

The music is becoming more ethereal, more experimental as the night lingers on.......... as my thoughts and feelings float down into my soft shoes......

And I remember that today, a stranger man my age called me Kiddo! He said......... " you helped out a lot Kiddo...."  after I tried to lighten up his anxious moment of having all of his groceries come tumbling out of the back of his SUV by informing him that he had just been struck by the luck of Friday the 13th!  

Kiddo!  I patted him on his sleeve and wished him a good rest of the day!  Our eyes met.  We smiled.  Then drove off in our own direction.  

Did you know that love is a direction?  Did you know that you can choose that direction?  You just have to put it out there.  

This week, I took a risk or two.  I put it out there.  And what came back?  Well, you guess.  It was beautiful.  So marvellous that I stand here tonight in my soft shoes smiling a sense of gladness and fatigue, looking forward to crawling under my own favourite covers and letting the dreams find this young little Kiddo. 

Thank you to everyone who made my week so fulfilling, challenging, loving, encouraging and important to me and for allowing me to truly begin to put my once quiet thoughts and plans "out there....."  I have miles to go before I sleep. Tonight though, I take a break ......... and soft shoe my little tushie to bed. 

delight

Spring, the season of delight begins with discoveries so enchanting it lifts spirits out of cocoons and offers the gift of wings. 

Softly coloured lightness, delight touches hearts with whisper breezes that tickle like pink feather boas wrapped with spontaneous glee.  

With crocus determination, it turns trouble into carefree bubbles on a blue sky canvas freeing our hope once overshadowed by heavy linen. 

Delight pleases the senses, sending rippling goose bumps up our barefooted limbs until it reaches our lips leaving wide smiles.  Wide eyed smiles.

Delight is....

Daffodil giggles ruffling in tall grass.

Pleasing music strummed by revelation.

Shared laughter of little girls skipping on the street.

Mirth that decorate spiritwings with iridescent flutter finery

Melting chocolate surprises on awakening taste buds

Chickie peeps celebrating their feathery birth.

Delight is......

the dawning of wonder.  

the first note of renewal.

the awakening of love

the yeast rising in joy

the emerging tip of grace

that leads to a wondrous sense of gratitude....... 

Mim

My Mother in Law, Mim's childhood home and summer home

Spencer's Island, NS

To get on a different writing track, I've decided to post stories for the month of March of people or a composite of humans I've had the opportunity to spend time with.  The collection will unfold as their "faces" and stories rise up from my memory bank.  So, I don't know who you'll meet....... because I don't know yet whom I will revisit yet!  I'm excited to try to share snippets of when our lives crossed...... 

Mim

Her voice had dry gravel in it to go along with her dusty sense of humour -- remnants of sucking back more than her quota of unfiltered Buckinghams.  "Just like Gswoski," she'd announce proudly.  Then she'd laugh.  A hearty cackle cough as she lit up another to compliment her fourth cup of coffee.  Strong Joe.  No fancy pants frothy drinks for her!  Oh no!

Mim loved her extra scoop percolated Maxwell House, straight up.  She liked her conversations that way too.... especially early morning ones while resparking the embers in the old woodstove.  For the rest of the day, she hid her feelings under a bulky sweater while diverting the talk with sarcasm and bravado.  But in the morning, with a hot cup of coffee close by and a Buckingham lingering between her fingers, she spoke the truth. To me. 

It was when we connected "in the real."  It was when she was the most comfortable in her own skin...... those early September mornings when the haze had lifted, allowing for the sharp blue to envelope the skies and offering slipper wearing crispness in the air.  After a long summer of beachcombing, head clearing, raspberry picking, lobster feasting,  jelly producing, and blueberry pie making, mystery reading, crosswording, flower arranging and just plain putting at a pace completely different than the daily strife of a politician's wife, Mim's whole demeanor was revived.  

Our conversations ran the gamut, but her favourite topics revolved around politics and the news. She was a brilliant woman and maddening too!  So well read.  So bloody opinionated.  Sharp witted.  So much so, that you had to be on your own game to confidently create a rebuttal.  Nothing frustrated her more than having to spend time with someone who spewed out opinions but could never intelligently support them because they were "too God damned lazy" to read the paper. Patience wasn't her strength.  Maybe that's why we got along most of the time.  Like our shared sense of humour, we had that in common. 

Salt air. Tidal breezes.  Being at home.  "At home" didn't represent life in Ontario even though she had lived there for her entire adulthood.  No, home meant being surrounded by the secure familiarity of the place where she grew up. Spencer's Island.  Feeding the fire, listening to the CBC, putting on another pot of coffee, and sitting down to tackle the weekly New York Times crossword, as the smoke drifted off her freshly lit cigarette nesting in the ashtray. 

Mim?  Are you at home now? I believe you are. 

snapshot

The wind is picking up outside while the rain continues to pelt the earth with an incessant fury. The river belches in fullness and flows with determination down towards the Bay of Fundy.  High tides ream the coastal shorelines, already saturated with this deluge.  Where is it all coming from?  In other parts of this country, it arrived as snow.  I can't imagine how much snow this would be if the temperatures were lower.  Up to the "window sills high" I'm sure.  Instead , my town is getting a thorough rain cleansing.  I will do the same.  By writing ..... a cleansing of a few thoughts which have been logjammed while I pushed through my restlessness.  

Tonight, I'm safe, warm and dry in my home.  Inspirational upbeat music is playing in the background, encouraging me to write, but also to sway to the beat.  There are a few tasks on the "to do" list that are vying for my attention, but dammit, I'm going to blog tonight!  Not only that, I'm going to FINISH a piece and post it!  It seems as though I begin a new piece and run out of steam halfway through it....... or maybe my attention gets redirected .... or the restlessness I have been feeling kicks in.  All of those things, plus I've been busy.  Man, have I been busy.  But, you know........ it still seems like it takes me 5 extra steps per usual step to accomplish anything.   Focus still wanes.  Certain tasks don't seem to get completed on time.  I'm trying.

Maybe i'm just always trying to catch up to the learning. That's how it really feels.  My learning curve which has been created by so many amazing experiences this fall is as steep as Everest!  As I have journied forward, tackling hard heart things as well as welcoming tenderness back into my broken heart, I am learning to step out into the world of discomfort to feel the yawning stretch of opening the door to surprises!  

Wide-eyed ones.  Whispering ones.  Courageous ones.  Scary ones.  Expressive ones.  Risky ones.  Shaky ones.  Deep pit in the stomach ones.  High flying catapulting ones.  Prayer-full ones.  Surprises parcelled in promises of learning.   

In order to continue the flow of this piece however, I refuse to get all jammed up trying to write about everything that has happened.  As much as I would like to do just that........ I would need a week or so to give the stories the attention they deserve.  My restless soul won't allow it right now.   Instead, I decided to provide a snapshot of where I've been and where I am.  That way, I am hoping I can begin to unravel what is in my heart and head.......... AND get back on track with my writing and blogging.   It is too important and meaningful to me to let it slide any longer.   Writing isn't a choice anymore.  It is a life force.  Like breathing.  Like any creative outlet.  Part of me feels like I've been holding my breath!   

So, without further hesitation....... a snapshot complete with headings........ 

What have I noticed recently?   The other night, I was walking my dog down the street.  The winter stars were glistening jewels in the black sky.  The moon was a sliver of itself.  From this vantage point, I could see the lights on the other side of the Saint John River.  Some of them were stretched in blurry reflection on the water, bobbing with the currents.  Golden yellow, candescent white, a flashing red from the tower which welcomes the planes into this city.  I expected to see flickering Christmas colours beyond the river, decorating the homes I couldn't make out in the dark.  What I noticed?  The only predominant colour of light that night was blue.  It was like it outshone all other colours.... left them in its wake. The blue light shone in random fashion like they were fancy stars hovering low to protect the people who lived over there.  Or maybe they were remnants of summer fireflies.  I stood and watched them glow on and on.......... my hands in my pockets to keep warm......... my big blue scarf wrapped up around my neck and ears in silence.   I wasn't restless.  

Currently reading...... I wish I could state that its a big juicy novel that I have escaped into!   Not yet.  Soon I hope.  Maybe over the Christmas holidays.  However, what I am reading are stories and explanations of the Season.  Advent stirs in and around me.  I have a thirst for it.  No matter how busy I am, my thoughts don't stray too far from it's guidance and lessons.   All year long, I have said to myself that I wanted to simplify........ to let go of the layers of complications ....... to pry my fingers off life's steering wheel ... to learn to be more accepting and less controlling of how events unfold ..... to surrender rather than ADD more to the buffet!  I kept adding more..... more and more...... making life more complicated than I could handle, until it forced me to dive undercover to hide.  I was doing the opposite of what I wanted!  How masochistic is that?  So......... here we are, in the  middle of Advent, and I see how I actually have been simplifying.... not in the traditional manner, but by reflecting on what is most important and what is gravy.   I may be busy juggling home, community, work, and play, but inside the layers of complications are letting go as I prepare for Christmas Day with my family and friends in Joyful Hope.

Currently creating...... I can't tell you that!  It would spoil the surprise!  I've got a few little gifty projects on the go right now.  I love this time of year!

Favourite things.... Kissing ranks high on the list lately.  I forgot how wonderful it was.  Yeah, I'd walk a mile in a snowstorm for a lingering romantic kiss.  hmmmmm......... what else? Gee, all of a sudden my brain is fogging up with passionate steam!  hahaha!

What I am thankful for:   Absolutely no question.  I am so grateful to be a Mom to two of the most beautiful human beings around.  Yeah, I'm a little biased, but honestly?  Last night, the three of us sat down for Sunday dinner and my whole being filled up with love and gratitude when I looked into their eyes.   We are doing alright, the three of us.  In fact, we are doing just fine despite our personal stressy days and busy ways.  Both are excelling at school and in their personal pursuits.  I am so proud of my daughter and my son.  They give me strength everyday, and i hope I do the same for them.  

What am I listening to?  Life, traffic and music all around me ...  students in need of spilling their stories, the voices of my friends and family, my inner voice, choral hymns, lessons in nature, sermons that touch my heart and soul, the spoken words of a friend whom I have spent meaningful time with this fall as she successfully SOARED towards making her personal vision come to life.  Her fierce determination to bring 1000 people together to promote much needed treatment services for Youth in this province with mental health issues culminated in an amazing rally last week!  It was a grassroots community movement that only happened because of my friend Maureen's shared testimony and connection to groups and individuals throughout the city.  AMAZING!  I was honoured to be a part of it from the initial planning stages in mid-October.  Here's a link to the latest story about the event.   I will write more about this when I have time to reflect properly over the holidays.

Plans for the upcoming week...... SO MUCH GOOD STUFF!  And of course, the other stuff I don't even know is going to happen!  Gifts.  Blessings.  New learning.  Illumination.  Worries resolved.  New worries rooted.  Projects continued.  Music to stir.  Feelings that run deep.  Meaningful connections.  Love.... giving and receiving.  Beauty in all of life's imperfections.

How about a picture?  This one is my favourite of the week.  Youth learning about the importance of community gathering to support a cause.  These kids were very involved at the Connect the DOTS rally in front of the legislature.  My Max is in the middle!  It was awesome!  

So, here is my snapshot.  A little rambling, but I just kept writing and let my fingers feel the keys again.  No edits.  One draft.  C'est tout!  I feel blog unclogged a bit!  Hopefully I can reach inside to find that creative writing side of me again.  I've missed it sorely!  Here's hoping it will return as my restlessness disappears.  Joyful hoping!

night rain webs.....

 Some days are more emotionally draining than others.  The nature of what transpires during the course of an average workday may appear to be similar on the surface.  Same tasks.  Same timeframe. Same kind of interactions.  Same types of stories.  What alters the emotional context of one day to the next is what you bring to it.  We alight on an seemingly ordinary weekday with a bag of sticky tricky worries, a list of MUST DO's,  a whole set of emotions stretched and challenged by fatigue, or new energy..... by stress or by a wicked sense of wonderment.  

Fueled by how we choose to see, hear, feel, touch, inhale, give and receive life in and around us, the day unfolds as it will.  Even if we make our best attempt at looking through our lens with beauty, circumstances can throw us off course and quickly deplete our energy.   Today was one of those kind of days.  Rainy, slow shuffling pace, tired.  No amount of caffeine could artificially boost me up beyond the rainy grey skies.  My energy was perpetually damp and sluggish.  My feelings were easily tipped.  To say that its very difficult to work in a counselling environment on days when you're not at your best is understating the obvious.  Feelings and energy aside, you've got to rise to the needs, knowing that at the end of the day, you won't have much left in the reserves.   

I recently met with a Spirit Guide who amazed and astounded me with the "messages" he passed onto me through the "angels" who have been hanging out around me all my life.  The messages were bang on accurate that I have yet to really process the whole experience.  However, one of the comments made (and this guy had no idea I was a counsellor or a writer OR had a strong desire to alter my career path from counselling to writing/facilitating and he hit on all three over and over again!) was that I have recently lost the ability to let go of the emotional spillage of others.... that it is seeping under my skin more readily than it used to.  He warned me to be more aware of this..... that if I was feeling sad or drained it was more than likely not my own "stuff" I was reacting to.  Rather, it had more to do with the feelings and stories others were sharing with me.  He was right.  I realized that today as I kept attempting to find the balance in myself and failing at it.  

I am certainly more focused than I was a few months back and am capable of performing my job, but there is a residual sense of vulnerability that gets tweaked too frequently/rapidly than it used to.  A transference of emotions happens quickly, like my empathy valve is open too wide.  It has made me really question whether the time is ripe to seriously take some formal steps towards a new career.  I don't feel burnt out from counselling.  I still love it.  I love the connections and I know I'm just as effective.  My focus is sharp when someone needs me.  Uber focused even.  Its just that I'm in a different frame of mind.  I've changed.  The shift has happened. Vulnerability is a raw place to be, but it isn't a bad place to be.  It is where creativity dwells.  I want that opportunity to dwell there........ to create.  The timing may be right now.  

I write this tonight........ after going for a walk with my dog.  It is still raining.  Most of the snow has melted away.  The street was dark save for a few lights along the abandoned gardens in my neighbours' yards.  I shuffled along thinking......reflecting on the day, trying to figure out why the blues grabbed hold of my soul when in fact it should be the opposite.  And I remembered what the Spirit Guide told me.  I am harbouring the emotions and stories of others, allowing them to weigh me down. 

However, as I turned around to walk back up the street, my eyes gravitated to the lonely streetlight that happens to be on the edge of my front lawn.  It's rays shone through the leafless trees, and touched upon the hydro wires and telephone lines leaving the rainsoaked limbs and lines glistening   The light and water droplets formed a large web filled with diamond sparkles.  Silent light to catch whatever worries, fatigue, frets, feelings you want to toss into it.  

I stood just below the big tree on my front lawn....... the one that captured the streetlight strength the most and was left in awe of its beauty..... nature touched by manmade light.  Then, I threw my thoughts and feelings UP into its magical web.  A nighttime dreamy web....... and let go of what I truly can't control and let them attach to the light sparkles in the trees.

And here I am now........ still tired, but lighter.  Still wondering whether I am ready to let go of my original calling I have honed and loved dearly and step into the wilderness of something brand new........... Interesting times. Interesting thoughts on a rainy December night full of glistening webs of diamond sparkled limbs.  I LOVE the last vestiges of the evening before bedtime.  For some reason, resolutions feel so much  more gratifying.

Tonight's photo theme is Night.  For more photos and interpretations, check out Carmi's blog. 

you win some....

 a cross of limbs

But you might get lucky now and then

You win some, you might get lucky now and then

You win some

 Mark Knopfler, Get Lucky

I have learned to find stillness inside my core.  Not all the time.  When I need to seek it. Music guides me there. With its soothing melodic sound, I allow it to surround me like a warm comforting shawl wrapped around my whole body. Soft earthy colours that gently touches my senses but doesn't impede my freedom to allow life's hymns to penetrate my flesh. In fact, it seems to do the opposite.  It opens me up to receiving the flow of thought and feeling as I breathe.  Accompanied by candlelight clarity and ancient hymns, I have learned to seek out a relaxed sanctuary where I can embrace vulnerability with a sense of soul safety.  

Sometimes, I don't have to set up my own little chapel of stillness.  Sometimes, it finds me when I'm least expecting it or when I need it the most..... when the sounds of my world resemble clashing cymbals, offbeat noise generated by loud obnoxious fumes generated from life out of hand.  Ringing in my ears.  Ringing in my soul.  I've learned to recognize those off kilter moments, especially if I am physically and/or emotionally spent, and do something about it.  Then, I gather my outgoing energy and turn it inwards.  Just for a brief respite until I can reach the end of a stressful, busy, loud noisy day when I can snuggle into the comfort of the shawl for a longer period of time.  It makes me smile as I write this. Regeneration. 

Paradoxically, it's a process of regaining some control of what is allowed to penetrate me and what I long to release by letting go of the controls.  Recently, I learned itt's a form of centring.  Integrating head and heart with something far deeper and mysterious in the core of my soul.  That is where the guiding light is.  Down this dark shadowy tunnel, a guiding light awaits.  Its glow awakens calm, courage, clarity.  Its glow invites resolution by letting you safely look deeply into the place where tears are made.  Not the ones that flow down cheeks. These soultears are the ones that weep into muscles and bones.  They touch upon the tension and untie the bruising knots that stiffen the body and mind.  Just by breathing.  Alone.  In candlelight clarity.  Inside ancient hymns.  Healing happens.

Since I'm not a person prone to following directions or rules, my drummer beats to its own cadence.  In the summer, I sat outside on my back deck under the stars surrounded by the warm wafting breeze, enraptured by the fireflies while listening to music.  Sometimes I had a hot mug of tea close by.  Sometimes I poured myself a glass of crisp white wine to sip on.  Behind me, music would play out of the speakers, filling the air around me with loving familiarity.  A whole evening would slip away as I sat in peace, allowing the thoughts and feelings transfer in and out of my consciousness as I listened to a few selected CD's.  One of them was Mark Knopfler's, Get Lucky.  This fall, I misplaced the CD.  I don't have a clue where it went because I never took it outside of the house.  Mysteriously, it disappeared and it has bothered me that I have lost my copy.  Since then, I have found other pieces of music..... some classical, some traditional choir music..... some jazz melodies.

Memories, ideas, beautiful faces from the past, fears, grief, gaps of wondering if I would ever find the answers.  It helped me to immeasurably learn that not only are there many important situational events in life that have no resolution, it doesn't matter if you just let go of their hold on you. Ah, but then there were moments of clarity when the messages reached me........ of how blessed I am.  How loved I am.  How contented I felt.  How you win some.  How letting those tears hiding inside the soul come alive when the light is shone on them. 

This gift I have been given first revealed itself over a year ago when I attended the Greenbelt festival and found myself exhausted and jittered with stressy complications walking into an ethereal feeling room called Soulspace.  I wrote about the experience, here, here and here.  (I had a lot to say!  It was so new to me that I wanted to capture its full essence....)  Yes, I had to fly across the deep Atlantic pond to find a way to stillness!  I am forever grateful because it has been my companion, my guide, my way of resolving the pain and hurt I have felt during my marriage break-up more than any other activity.  It was only this fall though that I learned while at a writing/meditation retreat that what I had been practising was a formal way of praying!  And to think I thought I was moving to an original beat! Of course it is a process tied into the school of the eternal. 

So, why do I bring it up this morning....... a seemingly typical November day that is about to welcome daylight in shades of grey?  It has been a while since the music from my summer moments sitting out in warm healing breezes under the stars returned.  But, when I open my eyes, I swear I could hear it playing...... you win some........ you might get lucky now and then........ you win some........ Knopfler's reliable voice was playing in my psyche.  Needless to say, I awoke calm.  I awoke with a smile on my face of memories of stillness... of sitting alone but never feeling alone.  

No need to seek out the place of centring.  It found me.  Its a part of me now.  Symbolically, this is truly a good thing.  Because this morning, I will meet the person who has played a key role in the pain and grief I am gradually to let go of.  For the first time, I will meet a stranger who already is meaningful in my life journey, who has altered it in ways I never predicted.  Revisiting the music and stillness I gravitated to last summer has set me up with a sense of readiness for this encounter.  It will allow me to express myself in a manner that has a tone of forgiveness towards a human being and not the ugly monster I had conjured up in my head.   All the nasty accusations have disappeared from my internal conversations....... I'm ready to be human to another human.

Healing comes under different shawls of comfort.  Healing comes when stillness leads you to the internal light that shines on a place where tears are made.  Healing comes when you feel the breath of God in every breath you take, knowing you're not alone.  Healing comes when the hymns of life transform the energy from the outside zip to the inside stories unfolding.  It's soul work.  Not easy.  It was the hardest work I've ever done...pushing through all of those raging feelings, learning how to pray in my own manner.  But, now that I am capable of it, I'm free.  And lucky.

Ps. By the end of the day, I will have another copy of that CD! 

this day

Some people will never forget this day. It will become etched as a memory, a milestone, a turning point, an ending, a beginning, a trial, a celebration.  This new day, invisible in its potential and how it will play out, could hold a spark that sets afire a brand new relationship, an oppportunity, an idea.  It could also hold an empty cup. Birth. Loss.  Rebirth.  Or something in between.

Dreams may be fulfilled. 

Longing may be met with affirmation. 

Tragedy may crash down heavily. 

Thresholds may be crossed.

A gorgeous exotic fish may be caught......because we all know there are plenty of beautiful fish out there in that deep blue sea.  It may be a day that will change your life. Who knows?

For some, the anticipation of this day holds hope.  For some, it harbours gut busting intensity.  For many, its just another day sliding and bumping into the next and the next and the next.  No difference in texture.  No difference is how it is seen nor how it is perceived.  The freshness is off the bloom before the sun peaks over the horizon.  

Resignation is just another word for apathy.

Serenity may visit.  Sorrow too.  On the same day.  Today.  Who knows?

Nervous energy may fill the air all around this day until it is time to relax, put our feet up with a sigh at the end of it.  Love may beam through a crack when you're least expecting it.  Or it may remain cloistered in a closet under a heap of discarded summer clothes until the search reveals it again. 

Hmmmm.......love. Real or imagined? The gut feeling of love bleeds from the same heart valve.  Sometimes though when you're really lucky, love can make the angels do the Highland Fling!  Now that would be the best kind of love to gaze at.  Such joy!  Could this be the day when real love radiates with such brilliance that it tans the soul? Who knows? 

Some people will never forget this day.  The one before us that hasn't even stretched out its sleepy limbs yet.  Grief may lift.  Hurt may replace it. Or perhaps mercy.  A softening of the heart that allows the memories sitting on the curtained windowsill gathering specks of dust to re-smile again.  To be admired, relived, cherished.  Pull open the drapes.  Open the window.  Let the breeze stream carry the grief away.  Or, let it tickle the tears until they stop their flow. Maybe thats what this day will bring.  Tears.  Who knows.  It hasn't started yet.

Or maybe you are an early early riser.....before the sun riser and your day has begun in a soup of rumination.  In comtemplative prayer.  In throwing the first load of laundry in the wash before "the day" really begins. 

Hesitation from indecision may wrap around the heart of this day. We just don't know yet.  Oh, sure we may have plans.  We may have a FULL ON agenda that keeps our feet from touching the ground for too long, while we grab a slab of fast food wrapped in greasy paper to scarf down in one gulp........ no time, no time....... gotta get through this one!  How often do we wish a day away even before dawn has arrived?

What is your vision of this day?  How will it play out?  Do we have a say in the way it flows?  Are you someone who will never forget this day? Maybe it won't be one for the record books.  Maybe this date won't matter in the long run. But surely, it is one to remember.  It will never pass this way again.  

N'encore jamais.  Je veux me souvenirs aujourd'hui.  No matter how it unfolds.  I may not remember the events.  What I will remember are the emotions stirred and felt.

give us this day.......

Have you ever stopped at the end of the day when nighttime chimes its call to slumber and asked... Why was I given this day?  Tonight, as I try to answer, my mind seeks out a beginning point only to find a series of other questions rolling out of the original one.... 

What seeds did I plant?

What seeds did I sow?

Who touched me with their presence, both in person and from afar? 

Whom did I touch? 

Learning....what did I learn? Was I able to pass on any of my knowledge?

If I could capture the essence of feelings that accompanied me today, what colour would they be?

Who did I remember?

What did I do and how did I feel while I was doing it?

From one seemingly simple question, a plush red carpet rolls out of my reflections revealing more to consider.  Each one offers a gift of a deeper look into the day I was given as a gift.   In prayer, we request from God,  "give us this day our daily bread...." sustenance to thrive on.  We request this.  Upon reflection we can assess how we utilized this gift of days we are given that make up our lives.   

Did I stop.........just once to look around me ..... to see the beauty of my surroundings?

Where did I find the beauty?

Did I stop ... just once to look around me ..... to see the woundedness in my surroundings?

What shocked my senses?

When did I laugh?  

Did I reveal frustration, anger, confusion or did I stuff it inside because no one wants to see those big time uglies.  

Did I allow someone else to express the uglies, to help them rid them? 

What did I create today? 

How did I stretch my imagination?

How did I challenge my sensibilities?

What made me uncomfortable? 

Who was with me in spirit helping to guide me at some point today?

Did loneliness come to visit?

Why was I given this day......?

Was I kind to someone?

Did I scatter more seeds than I sowed?

So many of our days, we push through the 24 hour cycle like our lives are situated on top of a treadmill, our pace the same, our steps the same in order to keep going, keep balanced.  Maybe we need sameness because our lives are just too startling and stressful at the moment.  Just to "get through" them is a feat.  Maybe we dread stopping for fear of being accosted by the stark realities burdening our hearts, weighing heavily on our shoulders.  Maybe we skip through a day with a madness of last minute shopping before Christmas and forget that its the joy of giving, the satisfaction of finding just the right gift for someone we love not the completion of the never ending list of "to do's" that matters.  Some days seem so lacking in any stimulation that you feel like you've lived it over and over again. 

I'm left wondering if perhaps these are the kinds of days when asking the question...... Why was I given this day ...... matters the most?

Ask the question, the treadmill stops.  Ask the question and the opportunity to nurture the startling stress with attention happens.  Ask the question and the burdens are acknowledged and greeted by awareness.   Ask the question and that omnipresent fear of being alone is filled with the real connections you made with others......... face to face, over the phone, through an email, on facebook, at the store, passing someone in the street, at work, in the classroom, out in the parking lot, in your mind's eye. 

Did you know that there are at least 3 people out in the big old world who not only thought of you, but love you too.  You may not get to see them every single day, but they are out there rooting for you!  Cheering you on!

Ask the question to God?  "Why was I given this day God?"   He's a good sounding board.  However, chances are like a good therapist (the ultimate therapy dude, really) God will reflect the question back for you to answer.  "You tell me.... Why did I give you this day,"  He asks...... and you're left figuring it out, with His supportive touch guiding you through the perplexities any opened ended question promotes. 

Before the darkness around you folds into your own internal quiet lights out, let your dreams evolve from the abundance of silent reflections.  Let your day flow into the refreshing slumber with your gaze be filtered by a sense of resolution. No matter how difficult or trying it was, it can be transformed from an ordinary day on a treadmill to one that actually mattered because of the gifts you gave and received yourself.  

I may never have all the answers I want by the time I'm sound asleep....... sometimes the questions keep me up way after my bedtime and that's alright.  What I do know is that if I take the time to ponder, even the most wretched day holds a few gems.  And if I know I have a handful of gems, it seems to make the struggles all the worthwhile.

So, tonight I ponder, and peak into the wildness of my broad question.......  "Why was I given this day?"  To fill with as much life as I could..........with as much colour as i could.  And I believe I accomplished just that.....

Now its time to dream........of you.  Why?  Because you are with me every day.... in my actions, in my feelings, in my imagination, and in my soul.  You.  And I thank you for sharing this bountiful life with me.  Little did you know, but you eased my suffering, added to my joy, challenged and stretched my abilities.  It was you and the connection I have with you that turned this ordinary day into a recognized bouquet of blessings.

 

friendship bouquets

Life has a way of throwing flowers at your feet. For goodness sakes, don't stomp on them! Pay attention!  Fancy blooms and a few  buds ripening ready to open are just laying there in a heap. Untouched beauty.  With a little attention and care and some creative panache, the bouquet is yours to add a warm glow to your surroundings.  I love bouquets and I'm determined to keep my eyes wide open to see them when they land. 

Conversations that ebb and flow with ease, and the sharing is a deep shade of indigo, bright yellows, perky orange, and the intimacy of a palette of pinks can have the same impact.  Connecting with another, knowing the conversation will be one that continues on into another and another, is like having flowers thrown at your feet every single time you meet.  With a little attention, care and some creative panache a relationship will add a warm glow to your surroundings....both inside and out.  These friendships come from a garden eternally growing blooms of cut flowers to admire from afar, or to snip off in order to create a unique bouquet to beautify your visual field.  

No two bouquets are alike.  No matter how hard you try to replicate an arrangement, it is always different.  The shades of colour, the straightness of the stems, the shape, and the size all play factors in creating a unique display.  The container you place them in, the way you handle them, the light reflecting off them, and the surroundings you put them in all.........external factors play a key role in enhancing or distracting from the blooms.  But you know what else is just as or even more important?  Its what you put of yourself into the creation of the bouquet.  Just like any relationship.  

Feed them both with love and tenderness.....with appreciation and respect for their beauty.  Take care of the little nicks, rough spots and blemishes while admiring the fact that this is what promotes uniqueness, and their gifts will reflect back to you.  Gifts you never even imagined.

Blossoming friendships need attention and respect.  When they land at your feet, don't ever question why they ended up there.  Only God knows that answer and he's not going to be blabbing about it!  And for goodness sakes, take good care where you tread.  Eyes wide open..........these blossoming friendship are everywhere.  This is what makes life so beautiful.  

Today, a new bouquet landed........... I will gently arrange the colour and contrast in one of my favourite vases and let it bloom as it will.  

As it will..........

Today, life threw flowers at my feet..... This friendship bouquet is for keeps.

Heart Grenades and the Art of Looking Sideways.

Strange to look at life sideways.  Strange, but oh so imperative.  It stretches the muscles in our eyes in a way that doesn't feel natural.  However, if ever we really want to make changes in this world we live in, and in our own individual lives, we must look off to the side for the options.  Conformity, the lemming kind, is the death knell of our society. The routine of sameness depletes our energy, sending us down a heavy footed path of apathy, dulling our senses.  What always perks up the brain, kisses the heart, zippity dips the pace is a fresh perspective.   Fresh awareness.....

Lemon scented fresh.

First kiss fresh.

After the rain cool breeze fresh. 

Puppies pouncing in the snow fresh.

Pussy willow promise fresh

Blooming pink blossom fresh

New slivery moon fresh

Stepping out of the shower rinsed and naked fresh.

We drop the blinders, take off the armour, stretch out our yawnings, open our minds, and look around?  Suddenly our way of seeing, which became our way of being, alters.  We shift.  In a blink. Aha! 

Here's a NEW way of looking at this issue!

Here's some light seeping through the dark realities of our sufferings

Here's a possibility!

But, am I willing to make the shift? Do I have a choice here?  MAN! What a frightening thought!

Life is easier to stay confined in a pocket of protection, away from new perspectives.  It seems safer, more predictable, more sane.  Yeah, right! What an illusion that is.  Still, we hold on tight to what we consider is the truth. It's what we know.  It's what we built our lives on.... those beliefs that you had some control over the events in your life.  Maybe that's the purpose of those "heart grenades" that often get lofted at us?  To wake us up?  To make us question everything around us??  To shake the inner stuffing loose.  To help us lose our balance in order to feel vulnerable?  When we are shook up enough and the vulnerability is ripe for the weeping, there is no more truth to hold onto.  What is left is an opportunity to look at life from another vantage point. 

God, will you help me do this?  Give me the strength to look at this life sideways...... to stand it on its ear.... to relax enough to let go of the ruminations..... to open the valve and let the possiblities flow upon the shiny rocks which I continue to stub my toes on! 

Shut off the valve of possibility, our whole being dries up. Turn it on full blast and the pools of creativity fill up and up and up with the cleansing spirits to quench the thirst we sometimes didn't even know existed.  At first, when new perspectives arise, we want to gulp it down....God, we're so thirsty for answers, for comfort, for colour!  When we first realize that how we are living, doing, being is not working, we want to change it ASAP!   Because of desperation and the motivation to douse the flames licking at our shame, we shuffle forward without taking the time to learn how to use our refreshed senses properly.  We need time to "retool" as well as to assess whether this new perspective is the right fit.  An oasis of water flowing to a thirsty person wounded by a heart grenade can be just as dangerous as staying in a pocket of protection.....

hmmmmm............maybe we need to look both ways, allowing the green twinkle of our eyes to cast beyond the first glance.....  looking beyond the sideways just at our feet......... over the horizon sideways... leap of faith sideways..... There is an art to it.  But there are no clear cut linear instructions.  You have to figure out your own glancing, looking, observing, assessing, glimpsing, gazing.  Not alone.  You don't have to learn this alone.  There is a Holy Spirit all around us to guide us. 

Sometimes we are the last to know how dehydrated and thirsty we really are.  Until we learn the art of looking sideways.  If we allow it to, it can soothe the wounds left by the blast of a heart grenade.  Late night loneliness does not have to smell like napalm.  It can be soothed by the aroma of perfuming comfort and the essence of insensing courage.......... let me turn my head to the left..... to the right....  Now?  let me look up and out.......... and what do I see?  Delicious possibilities.

Tell me...... What do YOU see when you look sideways?

_____________________________

ps.  This post was inspired by two things. I found myself in the valley of emotions today, so much so that I think I need to get my hormones checked!  The dips are too severe and I'm now thinking that there could be a medical reason feeding this trip I'm on.  Heaven help anyone who goes near a PMS-ing 49 year old in the throes of a divorce. You have no idea how ugly it looks from the inside! But, I'm relieved to report that I'm pulling out of this mass of snottiness and will be myself once again tomorrow.  (thank you Mavis!!)

I am also thinking a great deal about the upcoming Greenbelt Festival which I had the pleasure and the opportunity to attend last year.  In some respects, it was life changing.... many shifts occured and insights were gathered.  Sadly, the one which was so predominantly recharged in my being.... to return home from the festival with a clear desire to work through the issues in my marriage, I wasn't even able to kickstart.  It was over.  I just didn't know it.  

However, on a spiritual level, the depth of my faith and interest in pursuing this path of believing strengthened beyond my expectations.  Consequently, it has provided a foundation I sorely depended on last spring and continue to.  So, I wish I was going again this year....... to Greenbelt.  To refresh, to remind myself, to recharge, to remember, to reflect and to have some really really good fun with a group of people who are a part of my life and my heart.  When I think of them fondly, their beautiful faces and friendliness feed my soul with such delicious soulfood.

The theme for the Greenbelt Festival this year is "The Art of Looking Sideways..."  It's such an inspirational theme.... and fits nicely with how I try my best to look beyond the sides of my life.  The creative side of me, whether it's writing or photography, or even counselling (there is a lot of creativity and openness in the field of counselling) embraces this theme wholeheartedly.  So, I thought I would try to capture my feelings of this day as well as my thoughts on the theme.  I guess you could say, I was a multi-tasking blogger tonight.  And it worked.

  

My head cleared.  

I looked sideways.  

And you know what I found? 

MY SMILE!  I found MY SMILE! 
The little bugger was smirking 
off to the side!

Love to all of you............ xxxx