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. 

The Transitional Zones. Turning Fifty-licious

"All endings are beginnings.

We just don't know it at the time......"

Mitch Ablom, Five People You Meet in Heaven.

If you were to examine the connection between an ending and a beginning, you'd probably see spaces between the loose threads that bind them.  Or maybe even a gap.  Yes, maybe there's a kind of a transitional zone where the synapses don't touch. This is where I am sometimes, like everyone else on this planet.  No matter who you are, there is a bit of flux happening in your life.  Change is inevitable.  We are not static beings.  As soon as we learn something new, we are in the process of an ending and a beginning.   This past week it has been a theme of sorts as  I've spoken to many as they find their "new beginning" footing as they start taking new courses at the College.  

The thing about endings and beginnings is that you don't just have ONE of them. Our lives are a complicated somewhat messy multi-faceted set of them.  Linearity is not a human condition that is natural.  We are jugglers of many endings and beginnings.  Think about all of them that confront you on a daily basis.  How easier it would be if we were only coping with ONE ending and ONE beginning.  Crazy easy!  But, not reality.  Not only that, our lives consist of coping with them at different stages of openings and closings...... 

It reminds me of the passage in the Bible (and a well known 60's song), for everything, there is a season........ 

Seasons on the calendar may follow one another in an orderly manner.  Seasons in our lives crossover, combine, and create a mishmash cornucopia unique to every individual.  You may be in the spring of a relationship, or the autumn of one.  You may be basking in the summer of your career, or standing on the precipice of retirement...... winter......... with snow covered seeds waiting to germinate a new lifestyle.   We may have all four seasons happening all the same time with respect to different parts of our lives.  And when I consider it that way, I can see how often I find myself in the zone of transition.... not for everything at the same time.  I think I would fall apart if that was the case.  But, living the circle of life juggling the stages and the seasons while the days unfold as they always will........ 

Moving forward,

Staying still,

Hesitating

Anticipating

Letting Go

Denying

Accepting

Keenly motivated

Unsure

Yearning

Dreading

Reflecting

Celebrating

Grieving.......

Opening and closing.........

ALL DOINGS with feelings........ 

Winter Endings blending into Spring beginnings are occuring all around us and in us.  Sometimes with ease.  Sometimes with unbalanced footing.  Whether we want them to or not.  We visit the zone between and ending and a beginning because we need to.  This is where we process the loss.  Every change, every time we let go of old stuff/knowledge/ways of doing or being/relationships/  we experience loss.  This is what is so difficult about change.  Not the change.  The loss.   There is a season for everything.   And a purpose too....... Loss is a part of life.  Loss is a part of living life.  Loss is the hurting part of resolution.

I turned 50 on Saturday.  I would be remiss if I didn't admit that it is a milestone I can't quite believe I've hit already.   I don't think my parents can either!  They don't look old enough to have a 50 year old daughter!!  :)  But, here I am!  50 for God's sakes.  A third of the way through my life!  :)   It wasn't going to be a big deal, or didn't seem like it was going to be when I thought about it.  

But, then life threw a major curveball and it became symbolically challenging.  It quickly turned into a huge hill to climb up and over.  You see, it was the first birthday in 25 years that I wouldn't be celebrating it with my husband.  He has been by my side for half of all of my birthdays.  And now, it's no more.  This is what I couldn't process.  This is the loss I was holding onto.   

To everything, there is a season and a time and purpose under Heaven..... so often it remains a mystery.  And that's alright.  We don't need all the answers.  We just want them! 

Something magical happened last Saturday.  I let go of the loss.  I put my party dress on, complete with a new pair of sparkly silver sneakers I had been saving for just this occasion!   There was a transference from an ending to a big yellow door opening onto a new beginning.  I stipstepped in my silver shoes across the threshold, beyond the gap, over the transitional zone and landed with both feet on new ground.  It could not have happened without the undying support of my friends and family.  Turning 50 all of a sudden became turning 50-licious! 

A birthday party took place in my home........the one I had envisioned!  My house filled with joy and laughter, with song and music, with wine and food and with a cake especially created by my 12 year old friend Maeve!  Everywhere I turned, I saw people of all ages interacting and having fun, including my parents who arrived to surprise me!  All the way from Ontario via Maine!  

Right at the appointed time, God seemed to push away the rainy clouds to let the sun take his twilight bow over the river horizon. AS the day turned into night, the stars lit up the sky with so many points of glimmerlights it was impossible to comprehend.  And before you knew it, the campfire was blazing the in backyard and a circle of friends gathered for warmth, song and stories.  Inside the house, the chatter and music continued to........   people flowed from to and fro.  And life for me took a giant step forward, lighter from letting go of some of the loss.  

I will treasure this milestone in my life.  It was the biggest, brightest, most brilliant gift I could ever have received.  The gift of love, friendship, and belonging to a group of people and to a place I call home.   Thank you.  Thank you.

Endings are really new beginnings?  To everything there is a season......... this one truly has a purpose and a few reasons.    I'll toast to that!

Summer is here.....So are the Guests!

Drip

Drip

Drip......

SPRAY.........

WHOOOSH!

The fans are blowing throughout the house.  It's not even 8 am and the heat is on.  Today is going to be a scorcher.  Today, I have three guest teens arriving for a couple of days to join Max and I in this bungalow of blazing glory......... two are from Columbia, so I'm not worried about how they can handle this weather.  But, the other youngin' is flying in from Iceland tonight!  Poor kid won't know what hit him! For the next two and a half days, we will be hosting them and helping them acclimatize to our part of Canada.  Look out beaches!  Here we come.

There are approximately 20 teens arriving from all over the world to attend a seminar camp run by the local CISV chapter (Children's International Summer Villages).  It is the same organization that ran the Village Max attended in Costa Rica last January.  But, this one is set up so that the Teens run it on their own.  There will be Mentors with them, but all activities, cooking, team building, interactive sessions, rules, scheduling, consensus building, conflict mediation etc etc..........all the components of group dynamics and living together will be led by the group.  They will be staying out at a local camp in cabins, on a lake......with all the facilities needed for a good time.  However, they won't be entertained, scheduled...... or directly led.  The leading is theirs to grab hold of.  

Because of the different cultures and languages, it will be challenged to figure out effective communication strategies, and their empathy and emotional literacy skills will be tested.  It will be difficult at first..........probably small groups will form based on personality and geographical similarities.  But, I guarantee that within a short amount of time, with the guidance of the CISV Leaders, all of whom have had experience with the organization and in group dynamics in some capacity, they will grow and stretch and learn and mature..........  And they will leave with new perspectives, and an understanding that in the greater scheme of things?  We are all the same under our skin.......below the surface.  Our hearts pump the same.  Our hearts feel the same things.

Sure, there will be personality clashes.... it kind of reminds me of Big Brother, but no one is going to get kicked off the campsite!  Guaranteed there will be a couple of misfits.  Chances are they will have at least one difficult personality in the group that may be suffering through their own homesick issues which may make their behaviour a testing ground for patience.  Let's hope there are a few outgoing ones who stir it up, make them laugh, know how to get along with anyone.  And I really hope for their sake that the chemistry amongst them all is one that enhances their gifts and cradles their weaknesses.  

Originally, I was supposed to have organized this 3 week camp.  But, I had to pull out last fall when I realized things were not great on the homefront and I had taken on enough outside of here to thoroughly tax my waning energy and wonky focus.  I'm grateful I did now, because I wouldn't have been able to lead it like I wanted to.  The timing just wasn't right.  This morning though, as I do the last minute things around the house and head out for a BIG grocery shop, and wonder how in the heck I'm going to keep this house cool enough for 5 hot bodies to live comfortably in until Friday (when the heatwave is supposed to die down!) I wish I was heading to the camp with them to watch the drama unfold.  And to be a part of it all.  

What I will get to observe and be a part of is the before and after.........oh, and a visit in the middle.  

Tomorrow is definately a beach day..............which one is up for grabs?  I'm voting for Parlee Beach.  But, I only have one vote...... so we'll see.   In the meantime, time to don my Hostess with the mostess hat, my camp counsellor enthusiasm, and get a move on!  I may have to teach them a thing or two about waterslides..... Or, I may be the one observing,  standing under the sprinkler cooling off.  Either way, I'll be there, learning too. If you're looking for me...........  Wish me luck.  :) 

crossing muddied waters.......

Boundaries have a life of their own.  Just when you think they are set up in a fashion you can live with, a new situation, perspective or person seems to come along and knock over the fort.  Or they swim across the moat..........or you reluctantly let the drawbridge down and Badaboom!  In they walk....... into your life, into your space, under your skin.  They seep into your awareness circle and alter the boundaries you have so purposefully and thoughtfully laid out.  Space invaders! 

Most of the time, you have some control over who gets to come in close.  Other times, you have no choice.  And of course, those are the times when it really takes a good "letting go" of the control panel to eventually come to terms with the new boundary.  How do you do that?  I've been working on this now for a month or so when I learned that the nefarious other woman was moving into the vicinity.  I know it is illogical for me to be all flustered about it, but dammit I am! 

Personal growth resides most effectively in the neighbourhood of Discomfort Heights.  But, do I want to live there?  Its nice to visit from time to time, but do I really want the neighbourhood I call home uncomfortable ? .......  the few square mile radius to be rattled by a boundary crosser........one who has upturned, upset, and upstarted my life and the lives of my children? NO!

Since there isn't a hope in hell this woman is leaving anytime soon, I have to seriously alter my thinking and feelings even though I certainly didn't welcome her to move close to my neighbourhood.  I don't even know what she looks like, though I've been given a vague description which has only informed me that she is most likely the direct opposite of me physically and personality wise.  Yet, this apparitious paramour is already ensconced as a permanent fixture in my life because she will eventually develop some kind of friendly rapport with my children and obviously has with the person I once considered the love of my life.  So, please tell me..... how do I get to a point of not caring about this? 

For anyone who doesn't live in this God forsaken small town we call a city, this place is notoriously TINY!  There are no degrees of separation between folks.  Everyone seems to be related or at least connected through one friend/cousin/acquaintance.  It's uncanny really.  So, my obsessive compulsiveness concerning this uncontrollable boundary move has some merit.  Even if it didn't, it does in my pointy little head. 

Why do I even care?  It's not rational. But then again, am I normally a rational kind of human being?  Hell no!  I'm a spontaneously combusting emotionally driven overly sensitive trash talking spouse who was dumped because of all those unpredictable feelings!  I AM SCARY!  BOO! What a hellish embarrassment I turned out to be.  Hmmmmmm...........maybe I'm not the one who should be nervous?

I can be rational when I'm forced to be.  I can be when I am emotionally literate.  I can be if I put my mind to it......... if I let go of an uncontrollable issue, if I remind myself that in the grand scheme of things it really doesn't matter and I shouldn't give a rat's ass about it.   But, really..........did she have to move in just up the hill from me?  Weren't there other homes on the other side of the river far away from the shops and services I frequent?  I already know she's a keener for Saturday market from reading her blog last winter, so chances are I'll cross paths with her there.  Its a public place.

I can get over these soulfully hurting feelings if I turn my cheeky cheeks, and just carry on. I have to let go of my ego driven selfish thoughts and give it up to just another situation I must learn to surrender up to a Higher Power.  There seems to be an awful lot of surrendering in life isn't there??

I have such an abundant life, and am even surrounded by neighbours who are looking out for me.  I have friends and family who protect me and most importantly help me get on with a new life.  And I have worked purposefully and slowly with this grieving and healing.   I've made unbelievable strides simply by taking new risks, forming deeper friendships, allowing my vulnerability to express itself, praying a lot, doing my own thing, finding waterfalls.........!  Do I need to put in any more time thinking about this? 

It all comes down to why we have boundaries in the first place.  They protect us for different reasons I guess......... and what do my boundaries protect me from?  Quite simply (but in no means simple) rejection.  The moment our paths cross, I just know I will feel the biggest jolt of rejection I have ever felt, and believe me this has been the most predominant feeling I have face in the last couple of years....... my awareness of how much it grew inside my marriage has ballooned over the past few months as I have chipped away at trying to understand just what went wrong.

So, where do I go from here?  How do I detach myself from these unhelpful thoughts?  The first step I've just completed.  I've given the issue wings and words.........I've flushed it out of my inner thoughts.  Then,  I will continue to remind myself that what is such a big freaking deal right now won't be a year from now.  It's just that when you are in the middle of living it, a year from now seems like eternity.  Then, I rethink and re-establish my boundaries and move on.

I wonder if she is still reading my blog?  I doubt it.  She's probably busy unpacking. 

creature comforts and riding the coaster....

Its not just family and friends who stumble through the painful transition of a marriage meltdown, it also includes the whole atmosphere around you.  Our lenses alter dramatically,  foisting us into seeing things in such a different way.  Its like a multi-sensory seismic shift on top of a teutonic plate of moving perspectives, shaky perceptions, and growing alternatives.  Everything has a different meaning.  Some things become more powerfully symbolic.  You can do your best to predict what may trigger your sensibilities, but you can't  prepare yourself fully.  

I guess this is all a part of the roller coaster ride I am on at the Camp Destructo Theme Park.  Frig, I wish they would shut down the power and turn the lights off for a spell!  They keep playing our songs! They keep throwing me curveball items that are attached to meaningful moments in the 25 years I shared with this man I still refer to as my husband but shouldn't.  Even where I am writing this (my kitchen), all I have to do is lift my eyes and I'm surrounded by "things" that were wedding presents, birthday gifts, pieces I use when we've had fabulously fun parties.  It is a minefield of memory triggers that tend to hit the hardest when I am the most raw and tired. Sweet Jesus!  I'm staring at a Bugs Bunny cookie jar that seems to be smiling back at me!  A birthday presnt to a Looney Tunes fanatic who despite everything still makes me laugh.

This list of these unpredictable triggers seems endless, even if I'm not so consciously aware of them because they make up my home.  The esthetics of comfort which display our personalites as individual family members, and as a whole family that we have carefully accumlated are like rings inside a mature tree.......... a giving tree.......... a tree we planted together with hope and dreams in our hearts.  

My home is shifting.  The pictures on the wall, the photos lovingly framed and displayed throughout the house, the furniture and colour scheme, the knicknacks and dinnerware, the bookshelves brimming with favourite stories, pottery given as gifts or chosen because it fit who we were,  shells picked up on beaches, candles which burned so brightly not so long ago..... all seem to have a layer of archeological dust on them now. They sit in inanimate silence, but hold stories that all seem to start with the same sentence..........."Once upon a time......"  Sometimes, their silence is deafening.

It used to be that this home felt like a haven, not just to me but to my family and to our friends who have joined us in many celebrations over the years.  It is an extension of us.  It is an extension of me, especially this kitchen.  I created this haven....... this place people felt so welcome to walk into.   It used to be that I was his home.  He told me so. Often. I was his home.  Like a broken platter, once used to carry cheer, I have been replaced.  His home is somewhere else.....restyled and fresh. It's where his heart is.  Comfort in a foreign land.

My heart is here.  The person I called home is gone.  I feel adrift. 

Its easy just to brush off the idea that stuff really has no meaning.  It does and not just for me. It holds meaning for all of us.  It holds meaning for my children......... much of it allows them a sense of security inside a place that is shifting. So, I can't just push it all away and start again from scratch.  I wouldn't want to do that anyways, because I know my sharp jolting feelings I get when the roller coaster takes a nasty curve will eventually slow down so I can readjust my senses and fix my windblown hair.  

Some of the things will be moved out to join his new home (or maybe not....his new home may not want that.) Some will be tossed onto a heap for a yard sale, refreshed by a new colour scheme, a new "look", a new feel.  And some, will eventually be used over the seasons when the time is less ripe and more right and will represent a softer look back on a different time and place, when this was a dwelling for a family of four and a dog who hasn't quite figured out the lay of the land yet.  We are all suffering from a bit of canine confusion.

What triggers me now, I will eventually come to terms with.  What may take a much longer time to settle is the way I define home and the way he has chosen to define his.  In the meantime, I think I will avoid a few cupboards and choose carefully the soundtrack of music which used to send me into a place of comfort and joy....... which used to ground me into a sense of love and belonging, until the dust settles a bit.  Its the best I can do.  That and sometimes gather the courage to press play on a song from our past and have a good long cry.   Unfortunately, Van Morrison will have to wait a long, long time before I can return to his melodies.  It just too painful.

You know, I used to LOVE the amusement park.  I guess I still do. Roller coasters are my favourite rides.  Water slides too!  Maybe its time to chose another form of amusement.............. calm.   NO!  That's just not who I am. It may be what his other home offer more of........ calm.  But, here?  The rides may be painful and long at times, but they also offer an exhilarating array of joy and a sense of LIFE living.  I'll take the Polar Express option any time over a bland merry go round.

ps.  I have started making changes............. I now live in an indigo blue bedroom thanks to the help of my sister who came to visit over the Easter weekend. More to be done in there before it feels like a sanctuary again, but just by changing the colour and some of the decor I see hope through this long transitional time in my life.

I'll work towards refreshing my soundtrack too...........slowly.

blessed spaces

"There are places I remember all my life,
Though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain.
All these places have their moments
Of lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I loved them all."

The Beatles 

Our capacity to conjure up a full colour multi sensory picture of a place so vivid that it almost feels like you've magically transported yourself in one blink, is gift we all share.  Sometimes it leaves us with the melancholic scent of nostalgia, and sometimes it can lift you right up out of the harmonic blues.  Sometimes, it can be the balm one needs in times of strife.   It's almost as good as being there for real. 

Since last week, I've been thinking a lot about the various locales which have left me with an almost indescribable feeling of connection as soon as I arrived there for the first time. What generated this thought was an evening spent with a friend who lives "up river" in a place called Keswick Ridge enjoying the transition from twilight to starry night outside in front of a bonfire.  We have been blessed with the best weather I can ever remember for the month of March.  Well, today doesn't count.  It's miserable out there.  But usually we have a month of todays.  To have had the chance to feed the fire to boil maple sap under a sky of standing room only stars while sharing deep heart stories came as close to inner peace as I have felt in a long time.  

I have always felt that way about Keswick Ridge, no matter what the season.  Its like a little piece of heaven to me.  It has all of the ingredients that other places in my life have to make me feel like I am connected to something sacred.   It allows me to inhale a wholeness of spirit as I stand firmly balanced on the clay under my feet.  There is an uncanny sense of belonging as well as an association to a much broader timeline than my own.   

Since that evening, enjoying simple pleasures while soothing new wounds, I have reminded myself of the other locations that grab me the same way.  I recognize them as holy and thank God for the opportunity to have felt it deeply.  

New Brunswick has a multitude of places like that for many of us.  Aside from the spots I can get to that are close by....... down the hill  by the river shoreline, up the hill along Springhill road, I'm struck by places like driving along the Kingston Penninsula, the Gagetown area, the road that winds along Grand Lake.  These are a few that come to my mind quickly.  Then there are those blessed places I have spent good feeling time in that aren't within within physical reach right now, but I intend to visit them as soon as I can finangle it.  Prince Edward Island, along the shores of a village called Maximeville......  Spencer's Island, Nova Scotia (where the accompanying photo was taken), and my old camp Kawabi.  It makes me smile just thinking about them as I write.

When I sit still and contemplate any of them more deeply, there are specific parts of those larger places that I can easily visualize. From that vantage point, its like honing into that home place of love and belonging.   Quickly, the intensity of how precious they are increases and showers me with a sense of place and space that offers life abundance.  

Perhaps it is a touch of grace?  A wonderful a sense of feeling alive?  It always leaves me with a glimpse of eternity.

Not a day goes by when I don't recognize the importance of sacred places.  I gather energy and a sense of attachment to the clay under my feet when I visualize these sacred places in my own life.  What pulls me to mine may be very different than what captures you.  I think part of individual attraction to place comes down to a sensory aesthetic that is comparable to our unique fingerprints.    

This is the gift we all share; the ability to pull good light and good feelings into our world whenever we choose to.  And if we are very lucky, we can get ours physical selves there to inhale all of its healing salve. 

My thoughts leave me wondering..... Where do you go in your visioning, (or if you're lucky and can visit in person) when you want to remind yourself of feeling that sense of holiness?  

And how amazing is it when you stumble across another one of these spots on the planet that simply feels like you have been a part of the scene all along?  What is that all about??  I think it has something to do with receiving a wink from the Cosmos.

ps.  We sung a traditional hymn at church this week.  This first verse has remained with me since then and carried me through the writing of this piece.  

Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee.
Holy, holy, holy! Merciful and mighty,
God in three Persons, blessèd Trinity.

redundant? never!

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

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

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

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

Why do the things that connect us slowly pull us apart?

Old Man Willow lives in the concrete part of town, his roots upturned and tucked in the scuffed shuffle of exhaustion. Living on the streets, his shadowy presence looms large. His broad shouldered bearing tackles the comfort of passersby who are afraid of this man with the flowing treebeard and weathered eyes. He rules the streets and in the middle of the night, Old Man Willow owns them outrightly.

"When everyone in this city is safe and warm in the comfort of their homes, when everyone in this city has gone somewhere where there is a roof and a bed, I sit in a hallway at 4 am and wonder if I'm going to make it through another night. Even in the middle of winter, I'm out there and I know I'm the only one. I'm the only one," he says with burdened vulnerability I didn't expect to hear.

Demons and drugs have pulled Old Man Willow into a life of distrusting isolation. His road of darkness has dragged him into the soul of sorrow where defeat eats flesh and leaves weeping wounds. The storms he has endured forced him to bend and twist over and over again and it shows. Life's hurricanes have taken their toll on this human being and have left him with deep in the bone marrow aches and abandoned youthful dreams in tatters.

His dream was to make it to the "show..." He had the natural ability, the athleticism to rise above the ranks of amateurs....to breathe in the glory of the migthy crack of the bat. He was born to play ball in a place where it is a religion. It was in his blood. The ball field was where he belonged. It was what he connected to. It was his love. His love...... but not his fate. His fate was stamped by the choices he made. It pulled him apart like the seams of a worn baseball and left him facing the reflections of acquainted glory in the hallways and on the streets alone, panhandling for a hot cup of coffee.

Beyond the raging anger which sealed his fall from the gracefulness of a limbered soul, Old Man Willow shares his insight with anyone who will ask. Few have asked. He knows it was his own fault, but he also knows he was a victim of the dysfunction he grew up in. Always tough, always on the defence, always fighting to scrape by when others had an abundance of support soared around him, he developed a crusty outer shell. Authority didn't exist in his mind. They were the enemy. They were all stupid. He knew how to throw heat on the mound, but he didn't know how to be coached. He failed at this part of the game.

"I had too much attitude. I didn't listen. I loved to play ball," he says with a life affirming gleam in his eyes, "but I had no discipline. They wouldn't take a chance on me and I don't blame them."

"What happened then?" I asked....

"I partied too much. I fell in love. I figured I had it in the bag then.....that my talent was good enough to make it even though I didn't listen to them......I kept partying and married my childhood sweatheart. We were too young though when I took her away from her family. It only lasted a year and I took her back home and moved on.....I had a few tryouts but I had this big chip on my shoulder. I see it now. I didn't then. I just didn't know how to play THAT game. I thought I was better than everyone else. It was just anger talking. It was just my anger. Nothing's ever come easy."

He sat back lost in the song of his undoing in a place of long ago.

"I could've made it....I was that good. I threw it away.....I threw it away."

The cold years have aged Old Man Willow. His treebeard is predominantly and prematurely grey. His blue eyes have faded. His thick outer shell is calloused with weathered beatings from drugged numbness and broken relationships. Still, when you look beyond his scuffed remnants of this broken man, you see the strength he used not on the ball field, but on the mean streets in order to survive. He used his strength to survive and it has slowly pulled him apart from what he loved the most. It happens to the best of us.

What was glowingly apparent to me as I sat with him in the comfort of a warm office and listened with a combined sense of awe and pity, was an awareness that this man felt emotion far deeper than you or I. He may have had the physical prowess to dominate in a game we shared a love for, but he didn't have the filtering capacity to protect himself from the onslaught of life's feelings thrown with heat. Old Man Willow may scare down the passersby. He may have a shadowy presence which looms large over the concrete part of town. He may even throw a few swings at the demons and not have the self discipline to walk away from a fight. But his true persona is of a sensitive frightened human being who couldn't guard himself from hurt. This is what slowly pulled him apart from the rest. This is what finally took him to a place in his hurt where he finally asked for help.

His help was heard.....by his doctor who has grown to admire his unique patient.....by a doctor who took it upon himself to "go to bat" for a man who has burned many bridges in life. And because of this respect he has for a broken human being, Old Man Willow is going to receive some help. Tomorrow, he moves into his own place. Tomorrow night, his hallway will lead to a bedroom where his own bed awaits made with crisp and fresh sheets. His head will have a pillow. The community, many of whom have wanted to help Old Man Willow, has pulled together to help him. Hopefully he can make the transition from the mean cold streets to a place called home. It won't be easy to break lifelong habits. But, we're all willing to give it a try.....again and again...

and again.......this is life itself.

A Letter About a Gathering

Wilmot United Church, Fredericton New Brunswick

Hey there my beautiful special friend....x

It's been a long time since I sat down to write you a proper letter, what with the efficiency of emails, texts and the phone and of course blogging it somehow didn't feel necessary to put pen to paper. But, I had such an urge to do so today, partly because I wanted to hang onto the pace I am feeling and partly because when I write to you, I feel enveloped in your presence. It's happened already......and I've only just started. Your smiling face is so vividly present, it's warming me up.

I recommend you go put the kettle on and make yourself a cup of tea, your favourite flavour, and go sit comfortably in your favourite chair because.......well, you know what I'm like when I get going. My own tea sits steaming beside me. Dinner is in the oven. My family is off busy doing their own thing and the dogs are tuckered out from a romp in the fields. So, I have time too. Time to savour a Sunday afternoon with you and the silence nestled in the music playing in the background. It feels like all is right in the world and I can give you all my contented attention. Ready?

I've had a tough weekend but won't dwell there now. It just seems like everything is piling up in my ever churning head, and it spills out in uncertainty and fear. I don't know what is just around the corner but I am feeling a strong sense of change. As much as I want change, in fact seem to be craving it, I'm scared. I went to my doctor last week for a check up and even she said to me......"follow your dreams......." and she's not one to use terms like that. It made us both laugh, but I know she's concerned about how I'm not handling my stress well. Thank God for therapeutic writing. Thank God for friends like you. Thank God for moments like this when calm and your love sit with me.

Yeah, I could fill a journal with all of my complicated ruminations. Instead, I want to write to you about my morning because I prayed with you in a place of worship .... a place where I believe you would feel a sense of belonging too. It felt very much like I was praying with you because you were so present in spirit sitting next to me. Yes, today for the first time in who knows how long, I went to church....Wilmot United Church. It was a special gathering to celebrate the Minister's last time in front and surrounded by his congregation. I think I have written to you about him before, Peter Short? He has now retired as of today and is moving into a world of writing, which I know he will be just as influential. This man has a gift...a beautiful magnetic gift of words and passion and reverence I rarely see or feel. His beliefs seem so deeply imbedded in him, though I'm sure he's just like us in that he has days when big questions leave perplexing doubts. It's only human.


What is so lovely about his gifts is that they put him right in the middle of the community as a leader from within.....humble, with a good caring smiling eyes face and manners which make you want to grab hold of his arm and say............"c'mon Peter, lets head to the pub and talk about Jesus...... let's talk about the world we live in and how we can make it better. Will you share with me your thoughts because I can learn from you. And, can I tell you what I'm thinking and feeling because it matters to me that you know. I don't know why this is so, but it is..... maybe it's because I think you'd understand. " Yes, I think he would give it a try......... to walk a mile in my shoes, or at least be there when I was trying to walk that mile in my own shoes. Do you know what I mean? I think you've probably met a few of these special people throughout your journey too.

I grew up in the United Church...........a different church setting in another province, but the same approach to religion and faith......the same message of all being one.....united. This church has traditions I am comfortable with and even though I havent attended regularly at all since my younger years, it's like I never stopped going. But it's been years and it feels like a life time ago and when I think of it......the only other time I had the same feeling with a Minister was with the man who presided over my confirmation classes and ceremony and then my marriage. Reverend Johnson took on a young group of 15 year olds to teach them what it means to play a role and to be welcomed in the the body of Christ.

Every Thursday evening throughout the school year, a whole slew of us showed up eager to hook onto this man's wisdom and non-judgement.......this man who seemed to enjoy hanging out with a bunch of adolescents whose hormones were raging and bouncing off one another, kind of half listening. He did have our attention though and handled our unpredictable predictability as a good mentor can. He knew what he was doing as he took us out of school one day, rented a school bus and showed us another world to the comfy one we were used to. Homeless shelters, soup kitchens, rooms and rooms with bunk beds for lost souls, group homes........he took us into Toronto and gently but firmly made us open our eyes to poverty, mental illness, to human beings in need. Throughout it all, he was there to answer our questions the best he could all the while expanding our horizons and our sense of what community really means.

I saw this in Peter today as he interacted and responded in compassionate spontaneity throughout the service. From the woman who fell ill just before the service began to the little boy who stood with the group of kids at the front of the church and uttered every single word of a prayer Peter was saying like his echo. I saw it when after the choir sang Every Time I Hear the Spirit in such beautiful harmony, he spontaneously applauded, welcoming us to do the same. And I felt it deeply as he gave his last sermon.

There is something amazing about feeling a sense of wonder and belonging in a church, of being right there in the moment experiencing a connection to a Higher Power. The word that comes to mind is affirmation. Affirmation in fellowship. Its rare with me to feel that because most of the settings I am in, I am looked upon as unique, as an oddity. I feel judgement and the quizzical looks.......and sometimes I think I scare people just by being present. Yes, the combination of what makes me who I am seems to be a different sort of puzzle for some reason. Its not that I can't get along with people.....I genuinely do and thrive on it. I am a person magnet, no doubt about it. My family laughs at me because I tend to get into conversations with just about anybody from the young kid behind the counter at the local convenience store to the old lady who collects bottles from the dumpters downtown to the aspiring politician types. Funny, thats what makes me odd I think! How weird is that??

Anyways, there are few places where I can relax knowing I am accepted as me, eccentricities and oddness included. I do share my opinion maybe a little too much and my politics are seen as a paradox to my passions though not in my own head. Whatever it is, that sense of not being "on" and a bit on the defense rarely happens to me......today I felt it..... affirmation in fellowship. No big conversations, simply a blending in with the congregation, singing, praying, being, listening, pondering...........all internal happenings and it was a good, good feeling. Just to be. Me from the inside out.


Today, I listened to a sermon I could relate to. Peter spoke of the cruxifiction and resurrection of Christ.....of the symbolism of endings and beginnings. He focused on the time between the death of Christ and his rising, which I had never really thought about in depth before. He spoke of the fear and anguish.......fear during the witnessed act of killing Jesus, fear of the unknown after he died, fear of the newness of the Holy Spirit.......anguish over Jesus' death, anguish in the process of mourning, silent anguish felt on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday which wasn't ever documented in the Gospels.......loss, change, transitions, endings and beginnings.

Like a good storyteller, he used the sacred words of a story we know reverently well and emphasized it as a lesson we could absorb and take with us as we carried on in our own journey while touching on the idea that as individuals we may be at different stations. Some of us may be grieving deeply, some may be silently in anguish, fearful of what happens next, and some of us may be rejoicing. "It is finished"......he stated as Jesus did according to his Disciples..... "Be not afraid, peace I leave with you, support one another." And like a good storyteller, he repeated the message as a way to allow the listeners to absorb it. To take it to heart. By the time he said it the third time...... "be not afraid........peace I leave with you........support one another...." I felt it pierce my outer shell. It struck right in the heart of my own fear and it softened. It softened!! The tears welled up in me quicker than I could find a kleenex. I hadn't expected that at all.......why I don't know because you know what i'm like!! I cry over commercials for God's sake! But, I can honestly say it was a huge surprise to feel such a pang of light.

My fear of what will happen to me didn't go away altogether, that would be a MIRACLE. But it did soften as I realized how many others were sitting around me feeling exactly the same thing. It's not a unique feeling, fear, but it sure is powerfully capable of sinking you into a pit of darkness if you let it eh? So many layers of fear we allow to pile up on our shoulders and in the deep crevices of our dark night wanderings that sometimes we mistake it for something else....

After the service, which included a few of my favourite hymns, I shook Peter's hand and wished him well on his new beginnings....he asked me if I was still writing and I told him yes.....and he told me he will be writing more. I could've stood there and talked to him for a long time....I had so many questions........so much I wanted to say, but there was a line up behind him of well wishers. It wasn't the time. I don't when that time will be........ as it is with my wonderings about when you and I will have a chance to meet without any disruptions or time constraints. Someday....one day.........soon? I'd like that.

Life is mysterious isn't it? I mean who knows when our paths will cross? Who knows when my path will cross with the people I am meant to walk a good long mile with? It seems to happen when it's the right time and it seems to happen when God's hand is stirring the pot. There are some people whom we are destined to spend time together, to learn from. It will happen. How do I know? Because somehow God managed to mix up the clay in the creation of you and I and put a pinch of me in you and a dash of you in me, and it is that belief which makes me feel less afraid, more at peace, and affirmed.

I'm sorry this letter is so one sided....I honestly do want to know where your heart and thoughts are these days. I just had so much I wanted to spill out to you, and I feel like I've only touched the surface. I didn't even describe some of the folks who were sitting all around me.....many familiar faces from different parts of my life.....people I didn't even know they were connected to this church. Another time......

The house is filled with the aroma of the roasting chicken. It must be almost ready because I just noticed the sun setting. It has filled this wonderful Sunday with a salmon pink glow..... You know my beautiful friend I don't think twilight is going to be all that lonely tonight. Ah! The dogs are stirring..... must go.......pour myself a glass of wine.

love to you as you are always......xx Write me when you can.... a good long letter full of your thoughts OK?

"Peace I leave with you;

My peace I give you,

Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid......."

words to live by, eh?

d.





Christchurch Cathedral at sunset, November 2008

filling up.

"We all must hold the cups of our lives. As we grow older and become more fully aware of the many sorrows of life -- personal failures, family conflicts, disappointments in work and social life, and the many pains surrounding us on the national and international scene -- everything within and around us conspires to make us ignore, avoid, suppress, or simply deny those sorrows. "Look at the sunny side of life and make the best of it," we say to ourselves and hear others say to us. But when we want to drink the cups of our lives, we need first to hold them, to fully acknowledge what we are living, trusting that by not avoiding but befriending our sorrow we will discover the true joy we are looking for right in the midst of our sorrows. " Henri Nouwen.

I had many coversations yesterday through various venues........on the phone, face to face, through the internet, across the table, standing in line, when i was ordering tea at the Deli, in my office, in my home and in the van driving 5 boys to baseball tryouts (that one was a keeper, and will blog about it separately!). I had a great chat in the evening in the garden with a friend which stirred up lots of feelings. I think I even had a few conversations with myself...........don't know if I listened more than that I rambled on, but they seemed like good chats nonetheless.

Interactions, conversations, updates, thoughts shared................love them all because it is what fills my cup of life. Big feelings, little moments, wondering........all meaningful droplets into my goblet.

One of my student interns and I discussed whether altruism really exists. Thought provoking! We agreed that it didn't, even if you were Mother Teresa.

Over lunch with two of my dearest friends from work who have since retired, we tackled big heart stuff as well as shared more than a few bawdy laughs. If you had walked into my friend's kitchen during our lovely lunch, you may have thought you had walked into a conversation with three sailors............the expletives and colourful language would've taken the hair right off of your chest.......! But, it was a blowing steam kind of lunch filled with eye brimming tears and doubled over laughing and stuff in between.

Kibittzing and joking in the office................and some serious work too all brought people flowing in and out of my day. I love that.

I spoke to a woman on the phone to book an appointment to see me. So anxious is she to come in, she spilled a great deal of her story in the first 2 minutes of our very first connection. She needs to tell it...........and I told her I would be all hers next week for as long as she needed. It's what I do. It's what I love to do.

Lots of chatter at home too......updates, organizing stuff, sharing how we're feeling..........how's it going.......touching base.....always touching base. Home interactions begin and end my day..........like beautiful bookends of belonging.

We fill our cups daily with joys and sorrows, with frustrations and yearnings, with anger and confusion, with curiosity and craziness. And by sharing our cups, and by adding to others and allowing others to spill their reflections into our own, we link arms in kinship as we toast life's reflections. Personal fulfillment needs other human touch to add the silver clarity we yearn.

Yes, it seemed like a "three cupper" day..............a silver goblet day filled to the brim......

I'm off to see what today brings................and wonder what I can take to the party.

Canada, eh?

Gateway to the Green from Buckingham Palace to Picadilly

I was standing in line in the WH Smith store in the Gatwick Airport with a bunch of last minute goodies in my hand when the fire alarm went off and an announcement over the public address system told all of us to vacate the area. It was kind of scary, but I did as I was told and followed the other lemming touristas down a hall to what I thought would be an exit. Instead, it was a long walk to another part of the terminal with no airport employee to meet us or to direct us or to tell us what was going on.

Along the way, I ended up talking with a young woman East End of London who was heading to St. Lucia. We chatted about how disorganized things seemed and whether or not we would be forced outside and whether or not our flights would be late in taking off. Before we were told, we turned around to head back to the area from whence we had begun this journey of hallways and tunnels (with 500 other folks..........we werent the only ones not attending to the one announcement we had all followed). On our way back, we shared a bit about our trips............mine to return to Canada and she to visit friends and relatives.

Then she asked the question............... "What's Canada like?"

I am not someone who spends much time whining about the fact that most of our neighbours south of the border have no real clear picture of who we are and what this vast and magnificent country is all about like so many Canucks. This is a pasttime for some.............a way of trying to figure out our identity by pointing out the differences. I've travelled enough in the United States particularly to have had my share of bizarre conversations with people, some of whom live within a baseball throw of the shared border. Not a lick of knowledge.......... and as much as i find that strange, especially from people who live near the border, I certainly don't lose sleep over it.

Outside Canada house, beside Trafalgar Square

I'm cognizant of the lack of information provided through news and in schools etc about this country. On the grand scale of global things, our role is minor. Yes, we may be a member of the G8, and unless something changed today, we are active members of the British Commonwealth. But, we arent ever going to be a big player........... we aren't going to be the ones picking the music at the dance. Ah, but we will be there to dance!

I didn't expect this in England though. I don't know why, but I guess I kind of thought there would be some awareness and knowledge of my home and native land. Given the historical links, the same parlimentary system, basically the same social welfare system, our penchant for the same kind of humour..........the fact that the Rolling Stones played a pivotal role in our political history by partying in the 70's with Trudeau's crazy hippy dippy wife..........given that Old Bessie's profile is on our currency..........that we probably love dogs just as much......... I guess I thought I wouldn't be asked the broad questions.

Travelling I have found offers me a chance to re-visit my own interpretation of what it is to be a Canadian and of what Canada is all about. Though there is usually some goofy article in the newspaper on a pretty regular basis harping on this very thing, I personally don't spend much time navel gazing on our identity until I am standing somewhere outside of the border. And it is then that I have such a strong surge go through me when I realize just how damn lucky I am. As much as I would LOVE to spend time living in Notting Hill (fell in LOVE with the area). As much as I know I would LOVE to live in many places around the world, I can't ever imagine calling any place but this country home. This feeling is always strengthened when I have a chance to be someplace besides here. Maybe everyone feels that way when they have had an opportunity to leave their familiar borders.

I loved my week retreat...................my week of seeking and being on my own in the UK. I felt comfortable, connected and happily ensconced in the welcome arms of my bloggie friends......so much so that it felt like we've known each other forever. Though there are many differences between the UK and Canada, there are enough similarities to give a wayward Canuck the confidence to explore on her own, and to seek out the differences. I guess I assumed that this was a known thing........... it certainly didn't bother me, but it did fascinate me.

What's Canada like?



How does one answer that without spewing forth some psychological/political/philosophical thesis?
ummmmmm..................



We like hockey? Though some don't believe it or not.....

There are a lot of lakes?

Anne of Green Gables is only a fictional character but would probably do well if she ran for Prime Minister, but she'd never ever beat our classy sassy Don Cherry?

We export Divas and Comedians? For the record (mine anyways, you can keep Celine)

The majority of us own toques..............and know what they are used for?

Atlantic, Pacific, Arctic...............Rockies, Great Lakes, and lots and lots of trees?

Beavers, Moose, Deer, Loons and Geese............most of which share our currency with the Queen.

We are into a thing called a musical ride........just ask any Mountie.....


Our greatest hero was a young man who tried to run across the country on one leg and a prosthesis?

Where does one begin? It was a wee bit daunting really to be asked this by that young woman in the airport, but I think I managed to sum it up as best as I could................

What's Canada like?

"It's vast and magnificent," I replied................"and it's home."

Saturday night sunset

I just got back from taking my dog for a walk while taking a few pictures of tonight's artistry. We took our usual route, up the hill from my house and along a rural-ish road which has the most spectacular unobstructed views of both up and down river. Isn't it stunning?

I have a strong wish too that one day the old farmer who owns most of the land along this part of the road will knock on my door to let me know he would like to sell me a little patch to build a log home with a wrap around deck. I'd situate it quite close to where these pictures were taken, up a little higher on the hill. Every single time I walk this stretch, I picture myself living right there.

I never grow tired of living in this part of the world. Sure, there are times when I long for the pace and variety of the big city. I do miss the multicultural flavour of Toronto and the excitement of attending concerts and pro sports events. But then, I stop and look around at the realness of the landscape and the every evolving artwork in nature........... and my deep breaths fill my lungs with clean fresh goodness.

As well, I'm only 10 minutes (no rush hour) from my office........both schools my kids attend are close by. This allows me a chance to take part in the events at their schools without it being a time constraint issue. I couldn't do that living in Southern Ontario. Everything would be so much more weary producing, and no doubt I'd miss most of the important things my kids are involved in.

Last night my daughter Martha and I took Lily for a walk after the sun had completely gone to sleep. Our walk took us down our quiet street and up a path to a small field........initially our chatter consisted of sharing a few snippets from our individual days until we looked up into the sky from where we were standing in the little field. The whole sky was filled with stars............millions and millions of stars winking down on us. With very little artificial light around us, we could see even the tiny pinprick stars that would be lost from the view from a city. Views like that truly leave you whispering in awe.

Lucky and blessed, on so many levels. I loved sharing that quiet moment of grace with her. We stood there for a period of time oblivious to the cold night air, soaking in the canvas, whispering our acknowledgement of how lucky we really are. Who knows, maybe one day when she's having a tough day like we all do, Martha will channel her thinking back to one of these whispering awe moments to help anchor her back to where she belongs. I know I do.

welcome......

A first impression impacts the way we welcome one another. What does your personal front door look like? Are you open to receive visitors with colourful smile or do you keep the deadbolt on at all times so as not to be invaded?

Come on in! Let's have an afternoon chat.

Bienvenue mon ami.

I'm SO pleased to see you......come in, come in......the more the merrier!

How does this welcome make you feel?

If you can climb over the heaps of snow, you're more than welcome to join me up on my sunny afternoon porch.

Reflectively shiny......reflecting back to you.

You will always find a kindred spirit behind a red door.