Let the universe look after me please......

Walk away for too long in a non-aligned fashion and sometimes its darn difficult to retrace those memorable meanderings..... can you ever really backtrack? 

Walk on.  Walk on.

Stories....oh, the stories and experiences that have filtered and been felt by this crazy river girl! Accumulated touchstone people stories tucked together, colourful reckonings,  tender truths,  textured weavings of startle-charged news all stored inside me.  I havent spilled them on paper, or sketched them out.  It seems as though I've needed to remain aloof to my little blog........ I've needed to ramble in this noisy life...... you know those outside noises that demand attention?

Until I began to hear the inner growl.  The one that niggles and wiggles and pokes you inside the ribs?  The noises that push you off your presumed path into landscapes that draw your attention away from what you THINK matters.  You know, those noises you can't muffle, stifle or control because they are so big and boisterous you HAVE to listen.

Noises on the outside.......  Noises on the inside......

The walk becomes a jog, becomes a run. You can never really run away from the noises on the inside.

And then..... and then......."STOP!  LISTEN!"  says something deep inside your soul. Life trips you up into a tanglement of confusion.   It's then you come face to face with what matters.  This time, the face I was looking at when all things stopped?  My caring intuitive Doctor. 

Though a tunnel, I heard........ "it came back positive...."

WHAT? There were no lumps.  No bumps.  No sore spots.  Nothing.  WHAT?

Is it crazy to admit that I was not surprised?  My doctor is intuitive.  I am intuitive.  I knew I was going to hear her say those words.  I knew it.  Through a tunnel........ Oh my God. I knew.  Yet, there was no indication whatsoever.

As I looked into her big brown eyes, the same ones that I have looked into after I gave birth to my babies and she came into the hospital room broadly smiling to see them all wrapped in flannel nestled in my arms, when my son had croup, when my infant daughter had pneumonia ....... when I spilled my anxieties and stress over carrying too much of a load at home and work and needed time off, when my then husband had just been told he had suffered a stroke and she forcefully told us it was going to be alright, that he was going to recover fully (which he did), when I shuddered and stammered out the news of a marriage break up and asked her to take away that wretched sense of feeling discarded like a candy bar wrapper....... AS I looked into her trusting brown eyes, I heard the news.   The biopsy was positive.  I have breast cancer.

The noises stopped.  My voice became small.  I felt small.  Startled.  Alone. SO Alone.  The only thing I could do was will myself to stay in that tunnel with her.... to absorb the hopeful side of the news .... tiny .... non-invasive ..... not a death sentence..... going to be fine.... fine..... FINE ...... strong woman ..... early detection ..... caught very early  ......  to hear that she was going to be there with me for this part of my life's ride!  

"I will be there for you all the way!"  

In a matter of seconds, I jumped up from the chair in her office, whipped off my dress, unclipped my bra and demanded she do a double check exam.  No bumps..... no hurts.  Nothing.  I hear myself babbling like a fool.  "If its so tiny," I say, "can they just suck it out with a straw or something like you would venom???"  "Jesus,"  I hear myself say, "I've just come around to liking these droopy breasts of mine!!! I've always thought they were just a pain in the ass until I started dating again."  

She laughed.  I laughed.  But, I was telling the truth.  For the first time in my life, I was beginning to believe my breasts were beautiful.  An asset.  

 

"Why?" I ask, "Why did you send me in the first place?"

"I have no idea." She replies. "It was a gut feeling....."

"I had the same gut feeling."

We stand there stunned and a bit creeped out by the serendipity of the news.

I have always believed her.  She has always taken the right steps for me and my family.  It was intuition that she sent me for a diagnostic mammogram in the first place.  No other reason.  She just did it.   Thank God. She hugged me like an old friend.  We are.  Thank God she is in my life. 

_________________

STOP.  LISTEN.  Look around you.   When was the last time you reflected on your assumptions?? Those noisy mid-life assumptions?  They have been slamming me in the face, in the gut, and straight into my soul-full awareness regularly since I heard the news.  Meaningless assumptions.  They have no power now. 

 Amazing how quickly you realize that all the stuff you've been hoarding ...... everything from the grudges to the resentments, to the daily irritations slide away into an abyss called "it doesn't matter at all.........."   In a short time, which actually felt like eternity as I went through the process of "finding out...."  I've come to realize that all that burdensome shit I carry in an over-the-shoulder-satchels are heavy hitter diversions.  

Like everyone, I  use those smudgy grudges, those bitter tasting resentments and those victim inducing irritations as armour.   Protection from feeling vulnerable.  Mufflers from those tender truths that leave gouges on our hard held innocence.  

Wow.  Vulnerability never felt so raw. It arrived in a rush of prickling heat, jumbled thoughts.  Initially, the diagnosis left me ripped in two.  Disassociated.  Too numb to drive.  Sobbing until I thought I would throw up.  Then, I would remember what my doctor told me.  It was EARLY.  Non-invasive.  Treatable.   From there, those drizzled tears were tucked away.  

Responsibilities took precedence. I still had to do my job as a counsellor.  Being a Mom took top priority.  I am their lifeline.  Their leader.  Their rock solid Momma.  Always.   Other life events were happening...... celebratory ones that were more meaningful.  I was in a place of suspension going through the motions, but rarely breaking down. However, the week between hearing the original news to meeting with my surgeon was a see-saw blur of holding it together and crumpling in a heap.   

I didn't want to tell many people until I had more news....... more information.  But, the people I did share it with were so lovingly supportive.  They still are.  Now, even more.  Offering to come stay at the house, to look after us, to drive me to treatments, to help winterize the house, to make bread, scrub floors, drive kids, sit with me...... anything!  just ask, they have ALL stated.  Community of friends and family.  WOW.  

Blessings and offerings.......

Life altering lessons in a place of discomfort.  

Love, compassion, empathy, action!  This is what matters......

Joy and woe are woven fine...... hope lifts up from the dredges of woe.  Not from joy.  Woe is where hope is conceived.   

Human touch, shared tears, held and rocked....... encouragement and reminders.....

Heart to heart conversations revealed themselves in such a timely manner that it couldn't have been anything but the Grace of God. 

Mysterious ways, God reveals Grace.  Someone should talk to Him about his humour.  I mean REALLY! 

_________________

I had a dream the morning I met with the Surgeon that miraculously transformed the panic that was devouring me into lightness.  Calm, clear headed uplifting lightness.  I still quite believe it. I dreamt of a gathering.  I dreamt of a surprise encounter.  I dreamt about deep conversations with people I seemed to know well.  As I awoke from this dream,  I heard the "ME" in the dream say......... "We have no control of some things in our lives.  We have to let the universe look after us....."   

Hope had gestated.  Hope was growing like a gorgeous weed inside me, nourished by early morning light.  I felt a calm I hadn't experienced in months, much less the previous month of mammograms and a biopsy.  Solid.  Strong.  Focused.  Reconciled.  My dream left me in a place of personal reconciliation.  I was dumbfounded by the change in how I was looking at this mid-life event.  But I went with the feeling.  I let the calm feeling soothe me like a balm.  I lte it lead me.  From that moment on.  It was in that frame of mind I met with the Surgeon.  

Can you know right away that you're able to surrender your trust completely to someone you've just met?  Yes.  It happened as soon as this dynamic woman with energy and intelligence galore came bounding into the room and announced "You're the reason why we want every woman to have a diagnostic mammogram!  You're the poster girl!  Your breast cancer?  It's stage 0!  Its so tiny........... let me show you a diagram."  

 From there, the conversation went into detail.  She described the gameplan.  She told me that scar may not be pretty, but who cares, she says.  Yeah, who cares?   She told me I would need radiation.  That's the routine.  No matter how small the cancer area is.  I'm alright with that.  

It will be difficult and I have to travel to another city every day for four weeks right through the Christmas season, but my friends and family will escort me there and back.  We will sing Caroles.  We will share secrets.  We will listen to good music and sip hot tea.  We will drive through snow and maybe even stay in Saint John some nights and talk late into the night.  About stuff that matters.  We will let go of our assumptions.  Together.  On these drives.  AND we will laugh at the absurdities, and the stories we share.

_______________________________

Blessings and offerings........... my little universe is truly looking after me.  I am surrounded by love, near and far.  LOVE! 

Stage 0!  Who the hell has ever heard of that?  Is this a gift in disguise?  yes. 

Originally, I was sent for a diagnostic mammogram for no apparent reason?  Based on my Doctor's intuition?  The cancer would not have been detected until it had grown way beyond its minute boundaries if it hadn't been for me continually meeting with my Doctor while I was at the worst of my marriage grief.   

Stage 0 is where I'm at.  I'm the poster girl for getting the old floppy boobies squished in those damn picture machines.  I wonder if I can put that on my resume? 

My surgery is on Wednesday October 26th at 10 am AST.  9:00 am EST.  From there, I heal.  From there, the universe will be all around me......... as will caring people, spirit companions until the treatment and intervention is complete.  

Can I leave you dear bloggie reader and friend with one request?  Will you share a little of your light on me Wednesday morning? I'd really like to feel all that warmth.  No worries.  No negative thoughts.  No talk of survivor.  I'm NOT looking at this as a combat battle in the trenches.  I'm looking at it as a LOVE bombardment, and I need your help sending out that energy!  Because when it comes right down to it, nothing soothes any beast better than open hearted LOVE.  THAT's what matters.

Time for bed.............. dreams matter too.

from the earth.....

"One of the greatest dangers in the spiritual life is self-rejection. When we say, "If people really knew me, they wouldn't love me," we choose the road toward darkness. Often we are made to believe that self-deprecation is a virtue, called humility. But humility is in reality the opposite of self-deprecation. It is the grateful recognition that we are precious in God's eyes and that all we are is pure gift. To grow beyond self-rejection we must have the courage to listen to the voice calling us God's beloved sons and daughters, and the determination always to live our lives according to this truth."  Henri Nouwen.

A friend sent me this quote.  It came at just the right time because I had been thinking about this very topic!  My fractured thoughts...........

 Humility is a complicated concept to describe, yet it seems to be the most simplified levelling way to be. Living, thinking, feeling, breathing, acting with a sense of quiet modesty?  Its not something you can openly aspire to "be."  Or is it?  No one announces:  "My New Year's Resolution is to lose 20 pounds and be humble by March 1rst."  Or, how about..... "Look at me!  I'm so darn humble!"  No, a person who would be described as having a presence of humility has no ego-driven arrogance around them.  Rather, it is more of an unspoken (because it doesn't need to be broadcasted) realness...... an authentic respect for themselves and others.  Humility is an equalizer.

Based on Nouwen's interpretation that humility is not the same as self-deprecation, can you think of anyone in your life whom you would describe as a humble?  There are a few people that come to mind right away.  Automatically thoughts of them bring a grin to my face and a knowledge that whenever I see them, I want to be near them. 

We describe these people as "salt of the earth...." They are "comfortable in their own skin...."

It's like they have these massaging waves of comforting energy wafting out of them that affirm you.   Friendly, balanced, forthright in what they believe in, respectful of other's thoughts and feelings, receptive to listening, kind, aware, keen to learn ......  Sure, they can be spontaneous.  Yes, they can express anger and frustration especially when it has to do with justice.  The thing about someone who would be described as humble is that when they seek justice, they also measure their responses with kindness.  Quietly.  Without showmanship.

Humility..........

Comfortably from the earth.

Balanced in time and place.

Contentment with self.

Confidence in others.

Believes answers may never be found

Embraces the mystery under the cloud of unknowing....

Always barefooted in the sand, walking along the shoreline, living freely in that moment.

Receptive to beauty in all things.

Justice sprinkled with kindness.

May we taste its salty presence from time to time.......

Beach in Souris, PEI, May 2010

where humility met up with a seeker

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.

the magic of writing

The other night, I was trying to explain to someone about my penchant for writing, and how it is an avenue for learning, both personally and hopefully for others.  It makes me think.  It allows me to feel openly with abandon.  Writing allows me to express feelings beyond what is socially acceptable.  I put it out there with the hopes of punching a hole in the beliefs of another and allowing the feelings to seep out.   

It was difficult to find the words to describe how much of it is the process rather than the end product .... how I choose a topic and then allow the words to find me then flow through me like I'm simply a vessel to allow those words to carry thoughts out into the public domain.   I don't know whether I made sense.  It was after sipping on a Mojito.  Since they tend to numb the lips, there is a chance I simply clouded the conversation with gibberish.  

Tonight, a friend sent me a video that really hit home.  The woman is a fictional writer from Turkey named Elif Shafak.  Her message, which included some of her own story, was so compellingly accurate to the beliefs I carry with me about writing fiction.  Though it appears that I write autobiographically, and indeed have done more so in the past couple of months, the art of writing fiction is where I gather the most pleasure from. There is nothing more sacred for me than to slip into the abyss of my imagination only to be able to hook onto a story that is created simply for sharing as fiction.  

So often,  I write a piece and automatically there is an assumption that the feelings expressed through a character are ones I am feeling personally.  Sometimes, even when I write in first person, I am writing fiction. Or if I'm sharing a story of another person I have met, it is assumed that this is the full story of one person.  Particularly when I write a piece that is oozing in emotional description, its not uncommon for someone who is close to me to ask me if I'm alright because the intensity of what I have written frightens them into thinking I'm some suicidal crazy person.  I'm not.  I am definitely not myself these days, but I am pretty solidly grounded. 

One the points this woman in the video made resonated with me.  As she described what it was like to be labelled a "multi-cultural" writer, not only did I realize how often we do that....... expect someone from another culture to only write about that and nothing else ..... I realized that my own writing pegs me with certain labels.  I hate labels.  I write what is in my heart at the moment.  

Most wholeheartedly, I write from experiences but also from my ever vivid imagination. It is therapy.  I love the process.  And when it flows out of me like it is tonight........ so that I feel like an open vessel channeling words and expressions that I have no clue as to where they originate, except to believe they are my way of connecting with God?  I feel blessed.  I feel responsible. I feel that the power of connecting unanchored thoughts to the visceral reality of words is something I wish I could bottle and sell. It is a beautiful feeling. 

What is in me is in you.  The gift I have been given is to be able to find a way of sharing this so that sometimes a reader will have an AHA moment.  It may be fiction that I'm writing.  It may be a true story I am sharing. Whatever avenue I decide to share, it is in hopes that I do cross into your boundaries and hopefully and tap on what is perceived as truth.  

"I feel therefore I am free"............... this is a quote she used in the video.  It jumped out at me!  How true !!!!  Writing is the way in which I feel the most freedom to feel openly.  So often, this is totally unacceptabel to others if it is done in any other manner.   When I attempt to express myself in person verbally, I often threaten others with how comfortable I am in being direct and honest.  I am who I am.  

Through my writing, I can express the same thing, but it is less intrusive.  It allows the recipient to either read it fully and absorb the intensity of what I am trying to describe, or they can walk away.  Being present face to face live and in person is sometimes too much for others.  When I heard this quote spoken by this woman, I smiled knowing that it is through our feelings we can embrace a sense of freedom far more reaching than if we live in a place where only intellectual thoughts are shared.  Who the hell really cares about theory or acquired knowledge if it isn't expressed from the heart in a passionate manner?  No one.  If you FEEL the thoughts and ideas, you are more authentically received.  Tell a story, you have a receptive audience.  Chatter away about theories, you have an audience nodding off.

Writing is therapeutic.  For me my writing began around this time 5 years ago.  It hasn't stopped.  It flows, unfolding as I write.  I usually start with a thought.......... one single idea, and then I open my heart and mind to let it flow.  While I type it comes to me. Not before..... Even the autobiographical stuff.  Rarely do i have pre-meditated intentions.  I may have sketched it out in my head, but it always, always, always surprises me where the thought and the ideas and even the sketched out story in my head leads me.  I love these kind of surprises.  I don't like surprise parties or the ones I have been tossed my way recently whatsoever, but I like when my own thoughts morph into a surprise!

What i hope is that it leads me to you.  I hope that what I write and how I write leads me right to you wherever you are, and wherever you long to be.  For me, it is a transcendental state of being.  It allows me to stretch beyond my own borders to a place where learning and shifting occurs without struggle.  For you?  I don't know.  It is such an individual thing.  What i write about may resonate.  It may even hit a raw place in you.  Or, it may simply miss the mark because of where you are in your life journey.  All I can do is put it out there for consideration in hopes that it is fodder for contemplation. I have no control over that. 

Actually, I have no control over a damn thing, except what I choose to put out there, and how I choose to react to what is offered to me.  

Was I successful in explaining how pivotally important writing has been in my learning journey as well in my spiritual healing one?  I doubt it.  Mojitos have a way of clouding the brain and sending you into a place where you want to talk about other dreams rather than something that makes you think too much.  It's best to inhale the scent of the evening primrose and sink into the lulluaby of personal story telling connections.  It's heart stuff.... which eventually nurtures the writing. In fact, moments like those are the nuances filtered into writing from the heart.  This is where the magic formulates.... in the connections with others.... where the process begins.

Here is the video.  It is a little long, but well worth our attention....

http://www.ted.com/talks/elif_shafak_the_politics_of_fiction.html

across the waters.......it's so peaceful in here

I think I've discovered a new type of therapy.  Waterfalls Therapy.  Not the Niagara Falls kind..........the hidden in the woods, away from the world kind.  It's like finding treasure and serenity all rolled into one gift. 

Sometimes it takes a bit of exploring to find the falls, nestled secretly in the woods, out of view unless you know where to look.  But the journey is a part of the thrill of finding one of these treasures.  And in turn the first glimpse is guaranteed to put a smile on your face as well as the kind of child excitement that tickles you from your toes on up.

Our trek took us down a dirt road.  Initially, we walked too far because we were talking too much and missed the sounds we were supposed to be listening for.  When we turned back, we began to hear the rushing of water. Though we couldn't see the waterfalls from that angle, we took a chance and headed down a steep decline through the woods........taking it slowly and using the tree roots as footholds and branches as hand security.  As we made our way down, the view of the waterfalls came into sight.  It was gloriously cascading through a gorge which cut through the granite rock like a precision instrument and showered into an accumulating pool of cool, cool water.  The site was enough to take your breath away.

We made it down to the bottom of the falls, surrounded by the cliff gorge resplendent in pine and greenery ..... every single shade of green was present.  The sunlight filtered through the trees landing in patterns of its own making........ lighting various plants and ferns......... touching down on the moving water with a kiss of goodness.  With not another soul in sight, we had this little piece of heaven all to ourselves.  To say it was magical doesn't do it justice.   

A line from a Van Morrison song came to mind........ "This must be what paradise is like........it's so peaceful in here..." 

The irish have a term for that feeling when an acute sensory awareness of body, mind and soul merge into one.........when you feel that you are lifted up out of an ordinary life into an aura of enlightenment.  They refer to it as a "thin place."  You feel more alive and energized, but it is combined with an inner sense of calm that I can only describe as bliss.  When you reach this place the air is refreshingly oxygenated.  The more breaths you take, the more bouyant you feel. As your pores open up to receiving the happiness and hope floating all around you, it seems as though you reach a point where you believe anything is possible.  Anything is possible because you have been given the gift of inner completeness.

The feeling is fleeting......bliss never lasts.  But, the long term impact is life changing.  You enter a thin place, body mind and soul, and you are never the same again.  How can you be?  If you've tasted, touched, seen, heard and inhaled beauty, the lens with which you use to see your own world has shifted.  It reinforces one's belief in a Higher Power.  It offers you the best opportunity to slip a prayer into God's mailbox.  

You never ever forget the moment.  It is gratefully etched in memory.

On Canada Day, I quietly sat on a large rock in the middle of the woods halfway up a small gorge created by the flow of one river.  In front of me was an eternally cascading waterfall dropping down into a pool of water glistening in the morning sun.  Right beside me the water rushed past in rapid churning down to the bottom of the gorge where converged with another river forming swirling pools of water.   

The welcoming rumble tones soothed as well as exhilarated the thin air.........it's constant sound echoed off the granite walls in lullaby fashion, similar to the rolling in of tides.  I had no desire to move. In fact the whole multi-sensory experience allowed me to relax into a meditative repose of being placed right in the moment where time releases itself.  

Unburdened by all of the responsibilities and constraints of daily life, I sat in bliss.  In front of nature's altar, beside the rushing water, bliss kissed me.  And all the air went thin......... leaving me in a place of awakening I will return to in mind and body as often as I can this summer.

 Herman Hesse wrote, "Within you there is a stillness and a sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself."  When you've experienced, JUST ONCE, the holiness of thinness, you have been given the key to finding that inner retreat again.  

The moments when you are captured inside a thin place may be fleeting, the sense of wonder nestles deep into our hearts where they glisten like prayerful gems, which reflect a dawning comprehension only felt when we are touched by God's grace.  Our lives are far more enriched when we are receptive to the possibility of this experience because I truly believe these may be our best attempt at understanding the mystery. 

blue light

Service....... 

It's all about the journey to an awareness of our gifts.  Its all about being open to sharing them.  Whatever the venue.  When we give, we receive more in return.  Sometimes what we end up receiving is new awareness of how we are being perceived, both negatively and positively.  Sometimes, there is a clear indication that our gifts are not welcome.....not wanted.  Sometimes they are embraced by the receiver with gratitude.  It's a bit of a crapshoot because all you can do is give.  Your gifts.  Be who you are.  Say how you feel.  Share kindness.  Be a good friend.  Listen and learn. You have no control really over how the other person will react, respond, receive.  You can choose only how you give and what you give out.

The key is trying to find the right venue, because if you're stuck in a place where wings are clipped and free spirits are not welcome nor understood, gifts collect dust in the back corner of the pantry. 

Meaning.......... Our lives are a journey of gathering awareness while letting go of our egos.  What I may want, what I hunger for is more than likely driven by obsessed ambition.  And we all know that when our vision is clouded over by salacious needs, we lose our footing.  We lose our way because our Spirit disconnects from our ego driven actions.  It doesn't want any part of it. 

Luckily our true Spirit...... like God is patient.  It knows that most of us humans are slow on the uptake.  WE seemed to need several toe stubbing, head slamming, body jolting, heart stabbing life events to finally realize that our lives are in good Hands if we allow our own to be open to give and to receive.  

So, how does one marry the two?  Service and Meaning? God knows.

Hey God!  You wanna shine a little more blue light on me?  Just a little more of that meaning-full blue light?  I promise I will sit still more often this month.......I have a feeling that's what you would like me to do.  To stop, look and listen........ with an open heart and a pair of open hands.  It's time to seek out answers to just exactly what venue would I fit in to be able to be of good service....where is this place that will allow me to offer up my gifts?  It continues to be a mystery.  My destiny is still behind a curtain.

If anyone is looking for me this month?  I'll be close to some body of water.  Light catches in blue down by the water.  And it is blue light that I am seeking..........

a week of good energy......

A few weeks ago, I had my tea leaves read.  It was a spontaneous reading one night when I showed up at my friend's house up the hill from me in need of some TLC and a glass or two of wine.  My friend, who has been an unconditionally loving angel to me, whose taken me under her wing and returned me to church..........this lost waif....... and has dried my tears on several occasions this spring, made me dinner, and poured the wine once again and let me talk. 

Her Mom, Joyce was there........ a beautiful woman in her 80's whom I've always had a strong bond with.  She reads tea leaves, tarot cards, and numerology.  So, on the spur of the moment, I told her I was in need of a reading.....I wanted to know what was in my future.    Before i knew it, I was sipping on tea wondering what the leaves would reveal.

Even though Joyce was aware of the turmoil happening in my life, when she does a reading, she goes so fast and is so minutely thorough that there is no way she is reflecting back on any information she is already aware of.  It's hard to explain.  Suffice to say, she gets into the tea leaf reading zone.

There is a process to this.  The tea is made with loose leaves.  You must drink it all and try not to leave any liquid behind.  Once you've consumed it, you turn the tea cup upside down on a plate and turn the cup around three times.  Joyce then lifts the cup up and turns it right side up.  Whatever liquid and leaves are left on the plate signify tears and issues that need to be resolved. She then promptly begins to describe what she is "seeing..." both on the plate and in the tea cup in detail that simply blows the mind.  What a gift she has.  It is so cool.

Of course there are general statements, but what always gets me pulled into the otherworldly aspect of anything psychic like this are the seemingly small points she mentions....... and the things that are repetitive in the read.  This time through, she kept going back to information about my daughter..... how she is handling her parent's marriage break up, how her year will unfold, how she will resolve her conflictual feelings etc.  I have no doubt Joyce's description with all the small details will be the structure of my daughter will come to resolution about her new life.  In fact, many of the details have happened...... obvious through a few recent conversations with her.  Uncanny.

Joyce described my summer, highlighting a few important events........ people I will meet, trips I may take......... she told me I will be spending time in Nova Scotia, which at the time seemed completely out of the question because I had no intention of visiting my beloved Spencer's Island this summer.  It would be too painful and the whole area is ancestrally connected to my ex-husband's side of the family.  Now that is a strong possibility as well as a few other opportunities to go exploring that province.  Weird.

She also described how this summer will be an awakening for me.......... transformational as well as healing.  That sounds pretty general, but the details she provided narrowed it down to key connections I will make and what they mean in the greater scheme of things. I could feel this strange sensation in the pit of my stomach that was replacing the standard dread I had been having for breakfast every morning for two months.... excitement....??  maybe....

As Joyce continued with her predictions, I jotted them down..........asked questions for clarification and generally got into the whole thing.

Out of the 15 or so predictions she made, 6 have already occured.  2 of them happened the day after the reading.......  The other 4 have made their presence known just in the past week alone.

Its not that I am manipulating anything.  I havent gone out of my way to make them up as I go.  They just seem to be showing up...... on cue!  Its funny, I have been so busy juggling many tasks, wearing many hats that I havent kept the details of Joyce's reading in my head.  But, when one happens, BADABING!  A light bulb goes on.  I remember her predictions and it stops me in my tracks laughing.

An awakening this summer?  Summer started early.  So did the awakening.  It began with a re-emergence of  faith, and continued to travel down a new footpath which has brought people connection surprises I didn't expect and opportunities I had no inkling would be in my destiny.  Some of these surprises have occured because I found the guts to stick my neck out........ to accept an invitation when I may have in the past excused myself and not gone.

Sometimes it has happened because I let go of regular time restraints and allowed a friendship I always knew was there for the blossoming to be fed by some conversational fun.....good sharing stuff.  Sometimes it happened because I said no instead of yes, or I said yes instead of no.  Some of it is happening because I am reflecting on what it is that I want and how am I going to make it happen?  What is important in my life right now? And if a strange and beautiful invitation arrives at my door, do I embrace it or do I hide away and protect myself from any more hurt?

Now that summer has officially arrived.......school is out.......College graduation was celebrated tonight.......... I told a friend today that I am awake for the first time in 10 years.  And as soon as the statement left me......a little light went on!  BadaBING!  

It has been a week of good energy.  Good energy.  Not the kind of energy I expected.  It's not the zippy kind......... its the "I'm alive" kind.   Good thing I have my new sexy party dress on.  Gotta be prepared for the dance.  Maybe even a dance across the waters..... 

reverence....

Being open to the ineffable moments of nature stretches our spiritual realities. Look no further than your garden for lessons on being patient, on evolving beauty, on miracles hidden within the petals of one blossom. As we stand in wonderment and awe, we recognize a place cupped in mystery.  Words slip away into silence.  There's no rush to find the spoken words. For, it is in the silent reverence in the presence of one of God's creations where we feel the most enlightening affirmation of life. 

We don't revere the known. We revere the unknown which in turn feeds our creativity through inspiration from the Divine.  The essence of the unknown drives our insatiable need to understand... to learn more.... to seek out the words to describe the indescribable. There are so many wonders without explanation. That's reality.  
Reverence is an electrical prickly skin feeling.  It is an invisible energy to grab onto, for it allows the transcendence of a symphonic faith permeate the space inside which is holy.

Reverence allows us to see the outline of the Apparition who dwells in our hearts and souls by shining a light of believing onto the Holy Spirit.  Without a sense of reverence, we would never explore the depths of our own caverns......

sleeping dragons

This morning, I tried to pray in my own crazy convoluted way, but my imagination got the best of me.  All of a sudden, my attempts at prayer were interrupted by intrusive thoughts and hard feelings.  Pretty soon, my imagination  saw them as sleeping dragons... Hence, this perambulation filtered out of me instead.  

I thought if I could capture the wildness of my morning wrestle, it would provide some insight. I think it did. Maybe?  Who the heck knows.  It made for a more interesting awakening on a cold winter day. 

______________________________________

 Silence on a January morning has such a different feel to it than it does in May.  In actuality, silence doesn't exist  when May dawns.  The whole atmosphere is alive with birdsong and blooms.  May is a loud mouth busy time of external growth......... wide-eyed bright even before the sun has revealed one ray.  Whereas, the quietness at the height of hibernation is fettered by layers of inner meaning. January is dark.  Even in daylight. Even when the sun has opened her arms as wide as she can, January bleeds memories into empty cups. It is a time of reflection and replenishing.

In January, growth resides deep inside the holiness of the soul, where seeds still encased by a protective shell wait patiently to be discovered, analyzed, fertilized. Invisible to the naked eye, but not to the contemplative mind. This morning, I sat inside the coven of winter's landscape where silence awakens the sleeping dragons who guard the seeds like they are rare diamonds..... the frighening, needy dragons who project distorted shadows intended to make you feel inconsequentially tiny. Vulnerable.

I listened to the echo of my meditative footsteps and realized there was no other means of travel when it came to slipping past the dragons.  I attempted a tiptoe kind of walk in furry slippers..... the comfortable ones that save you from the bone chill resonance of their freshly irritated drafty snore. Completely inappropriate footwear for any outdoor exploring, but the very best for inside steps. Cozy slippers to ward off sleeping dragons. And a blanket wrapped around me to ward of the chill.  My feet were safe, my body was safe......but my silent presence still disturbed those refreshed serpent yearnings that billow out breath by breath.......that bumped into me, making me feel uncomfortable.

Vulnerable, Uncomfortable......

hmmm....growth resides there doesn't it, my emerald friend Pip???

No matter how much I wanted to break through into a warm harpsound of reassurance, the dragons had to be acknowledged.  For as much as they seem to be an obstacle to learning, in actuality, they hold the answers to some of life's dark mysteries.  Scary monsters who make you feel stark raving lonely and unarmed in fuzzy slippers,  they hold the instructions on how to uncase the seeds.  The seeds of new awareness.  I kept wishing they didn't have to be so frighteningly harsh or butt ugly. 

As they stirred in unison, making a hellish noise, I grabbed hold of my senses again and thought back on a place.... a Soulspace kind of place when I was confronted before and had somehow managed to GROW past these fire breathing sentinels.  It was then that I remembered the key to reaching that destination where one can flirt with inner meaning.  You have to surrender.  Not wrestle.  You have to let go and let in.......... the feelings, the thoughts, the noise, the fire breathing yearnings..... and allow them to be a part of the process, not the barrier.

So, I invited those dragons, now awake and needing to be fed, to join me in seeking out those encased seeds deep in the holiness of my soul.  It turned out, they were delighted to be acknowledged, to be validated.  Who knew?? Still, their honesty nipped at my exposed flesh, and slapped me on the cheeks. But, I took it.  I stayed with them even though I was feeling really shaky and unsure about their messages.  Before i knew it however, the January darkness lifted its veil.... just a peak, but enough to offer that harpsound reassurance I was looking for..... enough to touch me with new courage to take a few more steps with my new dragon posse.

Then, they told me a secret...... they informed me that they are really a part of me!  Those frighteningly harsh butt ugly dragons weren't a separate entity.  They weren't the enemy.  They were a part of who I am.... the shadowy section of the unknown.  As they spoke, they opened up their gnarly claws.  Nestled inside the unclenched crevices were a claw full of diamonds.  rough ones.  in need of polish.   I accepted their rough diamonds, sat down and began to polish them.  I could hear the music being strummed, reassuring me once again that sleeping dragons don't need to be feared.  They just want to be heard like we all do.

blue moons...........

Full moon over the Saint John River, Dec. 2009

taken from my driveway.

An ancient folklorist once said that a blue moon has a face on it that will speak to anyone whose light it shines on.  Tonight, under the second moon of the month, on the last night of the year we have an opportunity to converse with the moon.  Howl at it too if we want to.  Or maybe just lift our glass of cheer and toast its constant presence.  For no matter how sunny, cloudy, or thunderous the world around us becomes, we can rely that silly moon to be right up there in the sky.

So much of life is temporal..........a collection of fleeting moments strung together haphazardly.  How we respond to the events is basically the only thing we have any control over.  Personally, I abhor New Year's Eve and the celebration that happens at midnight.  I wish I had the capacity to program my brain to the light and fluffy dryer cycle in order to sail through the night in some sleepy bliss.  Wine helps.  But, you have to find that happy balance thing with wine.  Too little and it doesn't work.  Too much and you become a soppy mess of snot........ desperate to grab hold of the karoke microphone.  Ick.  Light and fluffy would be nice............ there are drugs for this state too I realize.  I just wish sometimes I could naturally fall into that blondish mindframe.

Unfortunately on nights like New Years, my brain is my enemy.  I get stuck in a groove of reflections and the fear of how quickly time is passing.  EVERY single YEAR!  Even though I will thankfully be surrounded by friends who know this about me.......... it is still so difficult to put this one stupid night into perspective.  I like it over.  Tomorrow will be afresh.

However, tonight............. I have a blue moon to converse with.  You do too. Let its light shine down on me.  Let its light shine down on you. I don't know about you, but I've got a helluvalot to say to it concerning this past decade. 

Happy New Year.  May we all take a good step forward into the mystery tonight. Change is in the air. Bring.it.on!

nuances

There is a scene in the movie The Remains of the Day when the emotionally uptight Stevens (played by Anthony Hopkins) clearly let Miss Kenton (Emma Thompson) know he was never going to soften to her advances. He was never going to let his guard down to allow the possibility of feeling any sense of intimacy obviously present within the space of these two people. The importance of maintaining decorum outweighed any human desire. Hopkins somehow managed to express this so effectively with a subtle shift in his body language. In a split second, the observer knew just how he felt. Clearly, Emma Thompson's character received the message...... uncomfortable, closed, off bounds. She backed off to regain decorum.

I consider the scene one of the most brilliantly acted scenes in movie history and the perfect example of how a minute flinch can speak volumes. Such nuances in our behaviour can easily be missed or dismissed as inconsequential. Sadly, they can be more revealing than sharing a whole evening with another person. They reveal a whole buffet from one morsel.

Daily life spins on a busy axis, where our encounters are numerous and blurry. Rarely do we take a breather to catch the little flinches of comfort and discomfort.... of need and wanting ..... of feelings too sharply stirring to remain under the skin completely. We think we aren't readable, that we have control over what we express to another. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Its just that we are time starved for standing in the long now appreciating the stories behind the subtleties.

Reading nuances is the core of intuition. It's the key to effective counselling. It's the most important counselling tool I carry. I have honed it over the years and can zone right into this place of careful observation when I'm in the middle of a counselling session. I've known all my life however that I've always had this ability to read these messages. It's like I was born with a heightened sensory radar or some kind of feelings barometer. A slight change in the energy around a person and my alert system kicks in. I can be crazy busy with no time to attend to the feeling but I can't avoid it or shake away from this happening. It has its advantages and disadvantages that's for sure.

Whether its a movement of the eyebrow, a twitch of the cheek, a different pursing of the lips or a millimetre difference in the space between you and another person, this subtle change reflects the treble of emotions rising from the soul. If the other person's message is one of inexpressible discomfort, the knowing I feel is immediate. Sometimes the clarity scares me.

If I catch this emanating from someone whom I care about, it hits me hard in the pit of my stomach.... right where I struggle with my own issues of rejection. Sometimes I follow up with a question ........ "Is everything alright?" "Are you uncomfortable with me?" "What's wrong?" These questions often aren't received well because I jump in and ask too quickly, sometimes before the other person has even recognized it in themselves that their feelings have changed or have been triggered...or at least in a place where they want to admit it.

A Psychic recently asked me, without knowing this (or at least me verbally informing her), if I had ever considered using my abilities to read people's auras. Since it seems to automatically happen, I guess I do. It's not that I can read minds. I can read a person's presence and their feelings about being in my presence. It helps tremendously in a counselling session because the trust and the comfort happens very quickly. If a person feels a sense of being understood, especially without words shared, they normally sink into a place of sharing. But when it happens in a negative sense with someone I care about or want to be closer to, I can't shake the feeling very easily. It gets replayed in my thinking over and over again while I try to sort it out.

I met a Reiki master last year who without knowing my background or much about me at all asked if I had ever considered studying this art because he could feel the energy around me. he referred to it as a blue light. OOOOOOoooooo, I glow!!! At first, I thought the idea was kind of kooky and wondered if it was merely a very strange pick up line, but I sensed he was genuinely feeling comfortable standing with me. I knew he was reading some kind of intuitive openness that is a part of who I am.

Yes, I seem to have been born with external proprioceptors that can gauge changes in energy and mood. There are a few people in my life whom I seem to have this uncanny connection to through shared energy and knowing. These are the human beings whom I truly believe I was destined to meet. It's like there is a syncopation in our flow. Now, how's that for new age drivel? Its true though..... in fact, there is a different thickness in the air, like it went from oxygen to helium. Within this lightness are floating particles containing meaningful communication. I can also stand back and observe it between two people interacting as well.....

The intensity of my intuitiveness obviously makes them uncomfortable at times, like they feel more naked around me. I don't mean it. It just happens. Nuances are very visible. They expand in stature when I take notice. I just have to learn to be more careful about when and how I share these feltsenses. On the other hand, I have to learn how to let go of the messages I pick up and not take them so personally.

I honestly don't know if this is terribly unique or whether it is commonplace. Because of the type of work I do, I've become more aware of how it manifests within me, but my perception of being able to catch these nuances is skewed. What I do know and accept is how fascinated I am when I see it happen, as it did in that scene from The Remains of the Day, and how I am left with a sense of intrigue and unrelenting curiosity when I feel it emanating towards me from someone I care about.

There you go............... a confession. Now, don't you want to hang out with me?

soaking in familiarity

'Cause down the shore everything's alright,
You with your baby on a Saturday night,
Don't you know that all my dreams come true,
When I'm walkin' down the street with you......
Tom Waits, Jersey Girl

I'm a drifter ..... a mindflowing drifter floating in a bay of remember whens on an upturned umbrella. The cold rain showers continue to fall from the grey skies like sobbing sheets. Slick wet dropping goblets saturate the fields, and make the last vestiges of flowers bow their heavy heads in humilty. Walking down the street with you seems so unattainable and yet so irresistibly imaginable like it was not so long ago......or was it longer than I want to believe it to be?

My thoughts keep reclaiming the past, but it seems less real, more blurred by time. Its the same feeling I get when I'm in the car late at night, when the conversation is punctuated with sleepy comforting silence.... when the music playing through the speakers is soaked in the sounds of ancient smoking whiskey ... vulnerably real.

There are days from the past which creep up from out of nowhere and bite you in the arse, leaving their nostalgic signature. Are there days like this from your past? You know, the ones when longing wrestles with familiar breathing.... of air already surrendered. Special little personal history moments that seem so ordinary to another because they just don't resonate with the same deep meaning, all of a sudden reappear out of thin air. Those "just had to be there" feelings which are so bloody meaningful can so quickly fill me with a lingering glad-sadness.

Nostalgia has the magical energy to connect you with just one other person out there in this lonely planet, to leave you wondering what would happen if you picked up the phone and you said..."Oh, my God, do you remember when we.....????" Would they smile the same memorable lopsided grin and fall right into the same chasm with you? Chances are....

What holds us in a state of nostalgia? On those rainy grey days when twilight hovers in a state of flux, why do those homesick attachments revel inside our sombre souls? We send out our dream scenes to collapse in a cold puddle of vanity, hoping for something we can never grip onto again. Are we afraid of standing in the long now? Are we afraid our glory days have skipped past us? Are we afraid that we are no longer attractive to others in a naturally flirtatious youthful way? Why do we cling to nostalgia rather than focus on the here and now.

Holding on tight to our memories, like a miser hoarding cash, like a puppet gripping his strings, like a lost soul looking for a warm body, we avoid our present day anxieties. Drifting into stories from our long agos is an escape hatch from mundane and stress as well as a reaffirmation of self. Glad-sadness.... joy and sorrow meshed into one.

Sometimes, we need grounding. Sometimes, we need to reconnect with the moments, with the lovely loving people whom we shared them with. They remind us of who we were, and who we are, and who we may becoming. As I drift along on an upturned umbrella, soaked in the familiarity of lived out written scripts, I will recognize my need today to revisit moments from my past and use the tangible feelings to help me understand how I made it this far.

Not stuck, just visiting while the rain falls down......

.....and to think it all hit me when I walked into the room where Mr. Waits song was playing........whoosh...and I was there.