sweet spot

After determined muscle limbering of their legs, torsos and arms, they take their place to begin the warm up together. Just a game of tossing the ball.  The pitcher, approaches the mound, settles his feet into the comfort of his stance, and waits to wind up.  Not with heat.  Not yet.  It begins with a slow melodic tossing to his partner as they find their groove.

The catcher squats down into her position, her right hand inside the supple worn leather glove.  Balanced in the comfort of her body, she lifts her arm straight out to prepare for receiving the pitch. The warm up begins.  Back and forth in a rhythm they have created together.... he pitches, she receives and tosses the ball back to the mound.

throwing and catching

throwing and catching

rhythmic resonance

back and forth

warming up

sometimes in silence

sometimes words of encouragement enlighten

back and forth

throwing and catching.....

sometimes

touching upon the sweet spot of the glove....

every now and then....

until it becomes more frequent

rhythm found within a sense of knowing

their complementary movement.

Again and again, it flows as they communicate with body language... signals, words, advice, compliments.....  Away from the rest, they pick up the speed.  He begins to practise various pitches.  Change up, Slider, Forkball, Knuckleball, are interspersed with his signature Fastball. Sweet spot.

The push and pull of power between the pitcher and the catcher continues until they relent a little. Both have strengths to use in the role they play.  An appreciation of each other's gifts moves the partnership into a different zone.  They know that in order to reach that zone.... where the fluidity of their efforts reach mastery,  they must use their physical and emotional gifts.  Caring focus.  Trust in one another.  It happens when care meshes with effort, when confidence meets up with vulnerability.

throwing and catching

throwing and catching....

care meshing with effort....

trust in one another....

complementing oneness

Confidence in their own skin,  in what they bring to the partnership is crucial. Respect and appreciation for the other's gifts is key in order to reach a place of equality. Taking turns leading while encouraging the other to reveal their best allows for the confidence to push the effort beyond any sense of work into a forum of limbered play.  It's the revealing that leads to stripped down vulnerability, when they show each other the raw rough edges of themselves.... It's never perfect.  If it was perfect, there would be nothing to strive for... nothing to motivate, explore, work/play towards.  

What it is, this game of tossing the ball is a deepening of a partnership with the same goal in mind.  To touch upon the sweet spot with heat.  At the right moment.

Out beyond the bubble of timelessness they have formed, a voice calls out............ Play ball!

The Year I Turned 50-Licious

Yesterday morning, I arrived at the diagnostic imaging department at the local hospital for an annual mammogram, grabbed a number and sat down. Routine.  No big whoop. Just one of those important tasks to accomplish in the day in the life....  

This is what I was thinking as I looked around at the other folks who were there for various x-rays, ultrasounds and boob looksees.  In  no time my number was called and I found myself sitting in front of the clerk as she verified my medicare number and home address in her computer, and made sure my name was on the list.  It was her last question that sent a sharp kick into my gut...... "And your next of kin is still............?"  I said "yes." 

Well, he still is legally and I sure as heck didn't want to complicate the intake interview while trying to figure out who my next of kin is now.  My kids aren't old enough.  My family live in another province.  Neither option was practical. So, I kept it simple.  "Yes."  The question and my answer flooded my thinking and feelings as I found myself sitting in a flimsy johnny shirt coldly wrapped around my naked torso,  by the door to where the machinery was located.  Alone. Processing my thoughts.  In a place full of foreign sounds, sickness and stress, ongoing paging for emergency doctors, and smells one only inhales in the stark reality of a hospital,  I felt the gut galloping shiver of vulnerability.  My stark reality mirrored my environment.  

I leaned back against the wall, closed my eyes and focused on breaths to take away the "reality hurt"  until a warm hearted woman with a welcoming Maritime lilt in her voice called my name.  It was my turn to have a few photos taken. My morbidly self absorbed thoughts quickly turned into wondering how in the hell they do that boob squishing procedure on anyone who wears an A or a B cup???? 

This is the year I turned 50.  From the moment after the clock struck midnight to ring it in when I stood feeling like a pariah beside my husband at a party and there was no loving kiss forthcoming to this very moment as I try to capture the words flying out of my fingertips on this frosty morning.......... the last one of 2010, it has been a year of awakening to loud thunderous change.  

Sometimes it has been so shockingly vibrant like when you get to the part in a mystery novel and all the pieces of the puzzle transform into BIG TRUTHS all at once.  Oh!  I can think of a few of those body churning events!  Though I'm trying to let go of them, they are still the ones that pound on my temples at 4 am with demonic pleasure from time to time.  Not nearly so often.  Not nearly so often.   

Most of the time, however, the thunderous change has been more like the WAKE UP surprise of POP Rocks sizzle bursting in your mouth. You know its going to happen.  You just don't know when. When it does? Your eyes open a little wider, while your first thought is........ "What is that all about???"  And,  "Why did I just put Pop Rocks in my mouth when I know how uncomfortable they make me feel?"  Sometimes someone slips a few of those candies into your tea when you're not looking.  There you are attending to a routine task and kapow! One of those damn things explode and you're caught speechless........for a second.  

"Your next of kin still is..........?"

This is life. It is a cache of awakening moments, some more seismic than others.  Some more life altering than others.  Mine aren't any different than anyone elses.  My feelings and thoughts are not unique.  It is what WE all share......... the ability to think and the blessing to FEEL always!  From the monumental hurts to the ecstatic orgasms, and all the little poetic symphonies that are the very thread that binds the whomping biggies together.  By sharing our hearts and minds, not only do we learn  important lessons from one another that guide us to LOOKING and FEELING from a different perspective....a different reality, we become a part of one another's tapestry. 

This is an awakened life unfolding.  I am who I am because of the experiences I have encountered, embraced, denied, refused, stumbled upon, viewed, processed, created, mourned, celebrated,  respected, rejected and reconciled.  Just like you.   We are offered up little Pop rock morsels.....events that seem inconsequential at first,  but end up providing awareness to where we are in our journeys as a means to process the thunder changes. Shifts happen even when you're least expecting it.  In the poetry of life.  

Yesterday, I texted a friend of mine briefly sharing the hospital moment with her.  She understood how it felt right away, and commented on how these moments makes one realize how the world registers you and how you see it differently too.   In fact, she is the one who has helped me throughout the year "see" how poignancy preys in the grace notes of life....  I told her that I realized it is the poetry of life, not the long storied prose that meaning is found.  Her response?  "What's a poem if not volumes of truth packed into a single glance?"  Blow me away!  Gotta love a friend whom you share wisdom text messages with that are poetry too! 

This year, the one when I turned 50?  Well, it has been jam packed full of events...... poignant, pathetic, pulsating..... life altering snippets.  I'm not at a point where I can say that I wouldn't change it if I could do it again.  That would be silly.  No one in their right mind wants to ever experience the deep gashes from being betrayed.  However, I have laughed with more gusto, and wept with more intensity than I have ever imagined.  I have been hugged more passionately, and cared for beyond what I ever thought I needed. Conversations that once skimmed the surfaces dove deep into heartfelt meaning.  Until this year, I didn't realize just how much we can grow from an original place of pain into a garden of beauty.  I have taken many risks, and every time I think of one I smile broadly because every single risk I took connected me to another beautiful human being and experienced some amazing adventures!  WOW!  

As well, I have inhaled air so beautifully thin as I have encountered a bouquet of spiritual compassion through the kindness of so many people in my life, and through the deeply quiet times I have been alone absorbing the goodness of a faith just waiting for me to embrace. Magical.  Blessed.  Loved.  Lovable.  Gee, I even learned that I am a bit sexy! Who knew?????  Yeah, despite the pliable sagging breasts and the hands that look a thousand years old, I've got a sexy factor happenin'!

I have learned so much..... and hope that I have been able to pass on some of my lessons........  

On this day, the last one of the year I turned 50-licious?  I feel strong and whole, weak as well as yearning. A contradiction I am, I am.   I see the poetry as truth in a single glance.  And I know now how I will answer the question of who my next of kin is........  It doesn't matter who the name is.  I walk with many.  I walk with you.   With a Holy Spirit to guide us along.  Aren't we lucky?

Bring on the Pop rocks!  Happy New Year. 

________________________________________

ps.  I have been keeping an eye on and a journal to capture many of these moments that have occured this year with the intention of pulling them together in a book......... I havent shared many of them on my blog because I haven't had a chance to digest them as much as I want to. Plus, I feel like when it is time to write it out fully, i want it to be fresh.  But, let me tell you, the majority of them are bloody hilarious! Absurdity rules, as does my dark humour.  Stay tuned!!!

this day

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

Dreams may be fulfilled. 

Longing may be met with affirmation. 

Tragedy may crash down heavily. 

Thresholds may be crossed.

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

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

Resignation is just another word for apathy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

passion

True passion is never beige.  Nor is it bland.  It can simmer, but it usually sizzles.  It is the heat that fuels dreams.  It can also be so molten hot it blinds you.  Somewhere in between the extremes, passion can be used to make things happen.

Passion stokes the fire behind a speech, feeds the hungry desire under the sheets, seasons the salt in the tears, steers the reasoning inside the drive, slams the brakes on an argument.  It can certainly fuel one too.  Clashing passions propel us straight into the heart of fury.

Passion can be what frees you from submission, or what shackles you to a one angled view of an issue.  And if it can hook up with your destiny, it will carry you across the threshold of hesitation into an emerging rhythm of confident purpose.  Action takes over when you answer the calling and crossover.  Are you willing to take that step?

The bright radiance of its hope can lift you UP to a place where the senses are heightened with the vibrancy of blue sky clarity.  Or it can overwhelm you with fear so forceful paralysis kicks in.  How do you find  that place where you are able to channel it productively?

From elation to determination..... from fascination to frustration  ..... from rapture to disaster ..... from mania to misery ..... Can you imagine life without it?   Can you imagine how dull life would be if we never got to swing to and fro until we found the in between?

Over the past week, I have had the privilege of being around people who have shared their dreams, hopes, and energy with me.  I've seen it harnessed in some, untapped in others.  I have seen its ire rise up in an outpouring of indignation.   I've witnessed opposing passions clash and it wasn't pretty.  For some reason, it has been a theme of sorts....... or maybe I'm just more aware of it this week than I usually am.  

Whatever the case, it has made things much spicier.  I like spice.  I like the spirited colour of it presence.  

Magenta Sunsets .  Peacock Plumes. Tangerine Dreams.  Autumn Maples. Lemon Pie.  Candy Flossed.  Fire Engine Sirens.  Lime Sherbet.

May it always be in and around me ........ and may it always be recognized as a Spirit Messenger with much to say.

eye candy

 

tempered blues wandsweeps 

candy coated creams

on canvas simmering in heat rising

from warm stretched limbs

aching to be touched.

colours awash in velvet sighs

surrender to daylight

slipping through cotton shifts

drifting in whisper breezes 

desired breaths in blossom slippers

a blended blur of feminine pinks

absorbs  the naked awe of attraction

.... A sensory feast in a haze of desire envelopes the wandering mind and places it on the threshold of a sanctuary where love resides. Twilight captivates with its alluring sashay into the secrets of the night........

Radiant blooming

My Emerald friend Pip, often posts 5 feeling words to describe that moment of  personal reflection, and always asks the human beings who read his blog for their own reflective offerings.  Over the years, since our paths crossed in way I can only describe as cosmically destined, I have used this little exercise to "touch base" with my own feelings.  I've also incorporated it into workshops I've delivered on Emotional Literacy.  It's a quick hit meaningful "person check" that more often than not allows you to get real rather than remain in the dark side of denial.  It has the capacity to take you below the surface of your skin.

If you don't know what emotional  motions you're dealing with......if you don't know how you're feeling or even how to describe them, you can't let go of how it impacts your thinking and physiology.  All of a sudden, you're acting in ways driven by an imbalance of head and heart. 

This morning, as I read Pip's blog, I stopped to take stock.  This time the "actions" came through before the feelings, recognizing where I am standing, and how stretched I am beyond my comfort zone.   If learning happens in a place of discomfort, well....... I'm sitting in the front row!

5  stretching actions in discomfort

reaching for relief

sitting in honesty

fighting off failure

meditating inwardly, mediating outwardly

nurturing others, nurtured by others.

the 5 feelings?

stronger more often now

delicately imbalanced not so often anymore

determined but doubtful sometimes

loved but hurting

recovering......

I'm so busy right now with many activities that truly take me out of my comfort zone but need my attention and focus when those two things seem quite depleted that I don't have much time to write.   But I  have many topics I want to explore.........half written and half thought out.   The political landscape at present in this province is heating up.  There are topics on a national and global level I would LOVE to have a chance to sink my editorial teeth into.  Issues generated from conversations, daily encounters, and simply living through this spring of change are piling up in my often feeling flooded brain of mine.   It sure would be nice if some big hearted soul (preferably handsome with a nice smile,  who knows how to fix things around a house) offered to be my guardian angel to grant me the freedom to write full time showed up on my front doorstep.  I'd like that.  :)

More than anything.........I  have stories, scripts, a few poems, and a novel all waiting in the wings, waiting to be shared.  I have many pieces sitting here waiting for my attention again.  Good stuff!  It will happen.  Yesssssirrrreeeee!

In the meantime............?   What I learned this morning while taking stock?  I am not in any way "stuck in the moment and I can't get out of it........."  I was stuck for a very long time, trying to fix, trying to avoid the issues of fixing and recognizing there was NO WAY to fix.  This awareness is where I also fully recognize the feeling of relief dwells.   It's kind of like a seed that has been planted in a bed of burrs and thorns, but has the potential to grow into a massively beautiful flower.  

Radiant blooming is possible.  It just takes a while when the landscape needs tending to as well.

Elements

"As you grow, you develop the ideal of where your true belonging could be - the place, the home, the partner, and the work.  You seldom achieve all the elements of the ideal, but it travels with you as the criterion and standard of what true belonging could be."  John O'Donohue, Eternal Echoes, Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong

Lately I have been really struggling with errant thoughts about health and mortality.  I don't know why.  It happens from time to time and it impacts any semblance of routine i have in my life.  It pulls me into a state of awakened fear and anxiety like nothing else.  Panic just fills my pores.  It also messes up my ability to focus, to write, to find my grounding.  Does that happen to you?  I

t's like a massive jolt of caffeine to the soul and I have a very tough time shaking the intrusive thoughts.  It makes me question who I am, where I am, if everyone around me is safe, if I am fulfilling my life to the best of what I am capable of (no), if I am giving of my love and kindness as expressively as I can.  I wonder if this is all there is, and wrestle with trying to understand how others see me.  Basically, I question my sense of belonging and get all tangled up in a mess of self loathing.  Not pretty.  But, I see it as a shake up, a wake up.  The discomfort is motivating once I get unstuck from the inertia. 

Last night, I pulled a big armchair up in front of the fireplace and watched the flames being pulled up into the flue by the constant stormy wind which continued to gather momentum outside.  Each angry gust of cold winter air brought the gift of energy to the revel it shared with the flickering heat, whose fiery embers cradled the wood with snapping intensity.  It reminded me of two people dancing the tango.....their individual vitality is fuel for expressing the passion of belonging.

It is what we all strive for.... that feeling of contentment, the comfort of silent stillness in the middle of the dancing flames of belonging.  It's emotionally stirring.  It's a fulfilled longing to be a part of the activity.  Fire only breathes by the air it is fueled.  Our breath, our spirit is what fuels our internal fire.

What I have learned and absorbed from Father's O'Donohue's inspiring writings and beliefs is immeasurable when it comes to helping me regain my footing during times when turmoil swims inside me.  The depth of his faith fuels my own wavering faith.

For some reason, I am a believer when I immerse myself in his lyrical heartfelt writings.  I'm not so afraid.  I'm not so worried about the mystery of death.....of whether there is a Heaven.....of whether God will be there to greet me......of whether we get to live again in some capacity, our souls re-emerging from the clay he so often writes about.  His wisdom and the way he was able to articulate it has always felt like a lullaby to my contorted spirit.  His deep faith is believable, which in turn has allowed me to let go of my tightly held anxieties and believe too.  Unclenched, I have been able to breathe more easily knowing that I am guided by a higher power. 

I don't know why, but I didn't return to his books while I stumbled through this latest soul upheaval..... I should've.  Maybe I would've slept better.   However, maybe I needed to sit in the fear on my own again for a while in order to let go even more of it.....?  Doubt is a wake up call........it's just that you WAKE up and find yourself surrounded by mean shadowy fangs....... eeewwwwww!  It's like living in the middle of the Blair Witch forest!

Today is the anniversary of this beloved man's death.  It is beyond sad and I know many of his dear friends and family are thinking of him and wishing he was still amongst us.  Since the time I was introduced to his writing, I have been struck by the thought that there is no one else I can think of whom I regret not meeting face to face.  There is a bit of a mystery as to why he has touched me more deeply than any other author except one other....Jean Vanier.  Timing played a role.  I was ready and open to receive their messages.  I was ready to be a student again.  But, there's more to it than that.  It just seems like the way he expressed himself, so genuinely and with such conviction somehow touched upon a lost chord stuffed deep inside me; so deeply embedded I had forgotten it had even existed.  That lost chord of mine is tied to understanding where I belong and why.

We are seekers at heart, knowing that when a sense of inertia weighs us down and tugs at our awareness, it is time to recognize the growing discomfort.  Father O'Donohue wrote........ "Our bodies know they belong; it is our minds that make our lives so homeless."  For a while, my mind felt homeless again.  This morning, it feels like it is settling amongst the essential elements of life again.  It began to happen while reading the last of the correspondance between Globe and Mail journalist Ian Brown and Jean Vanier.   It seems serendiptously written, for it has touched me exactly where I needed to be touched.  It has settled my rumblings to some extent.  They wrote about life and death...the student and the mentor as friends. When I reach this paragraph, I could feel the ground beneath my feet again.

"We are not pure or impure spirits, floating on clouds of acclaim. We are flesh, grounded and rooted in the earth. We need sleep and rest, work, good food with friends and lots of pleasure. We need disappointments, because they foster hope and renewal. Of course we muse over death.

It is not an accident that we die. We enter the world in the fragility of a baby and later decline into the fragility of the old person we will become. Fragility means needing to cry out, “I need your help, I need your love, I need you.” Fragility forms bonds of togetherness, community, friendship and peace."

Fragility..... this is how I've felt.  The questions and inner rumblings I have struggled with left me with a sense of fragility.  But instead of being afraid of that feeling, I realized through Vanier's faith driven response to Ian Brown's questions about death, that perhaps I should look at it through a different lens..... If I am feeling this way, and taking the necessary step to admit it, express it, own it, then I become more open to the blessings of love and friendship all around me.  I become a fragile vessel.  Maybe that's what we learn the most when we are grieving the loss of a loved one.  Maybe thats what we learn the most when we are struggling with our own fears of mortality? 

After reading the article,  I sat with a stillness I havent felt in a long time.  Then,  I picked up John O'Donohue's Eternal Echoes again and felt a sense that I was visiting a friend face to face.  It felt like a homecoming.   It felt like I was returning to a mindset of belonging again. 
________________________________

Here's is a link to a Youtube video of John O'Donohue.  Enjoy....!!!

clarity

rain soaked impressionism
through the windshield
from the driver's seat
Oct, 2009

Most days, clarity is an illusion steeped in mystical impressionism. Ah! But on some days, stark reality rattles bones and leaves a lingering echo reverberating deep into the baritone swell of the soul. This is when the desire of seeing an altar resplendently graced with Affirmation moves into a ripe longing. It can send you to your knees. Holy loneliness haunts until it is recognized as a transitional touchpoint.... an awakening epiphany. A fear of God moment? In all its reverential orchestration.

The thought I am pondering today as I picture what my preferred altar looks and feels like as I sit feeling the resonance of the cello playing inside me.....

Love always has a tinge of vulnerability to it. When it's real. When it rattles bones. When you give it. When you receive it.

Which leads me to wonder.........

Does God feel vulnerable too when He shares His love for real? How about when He feels your love for Him?

part of something beautiful...

I stumbled across this youtube video on another blog and it simply took my breath away. I could picture myself in the audience listening to this man fill the space with wondrous sound images. As he sang this beautiful song, in my mind's eye, I saw him transform the Performance Cafe at the Greenbelt Festival into a swaying sea of people absorbing the positive swirling messages through a sense of communal love and belonging. I have no idea if he's ever played at Greenbelt before, but he surely should!!!

Under the star twinkling lights....

The artist is new to me. Perhaps he's well known across the pond? I don't know. What I do know is that I have fallen in love. Alexi Murdoch's gifts pull you into a holy moment of rapture.

If you have the time to sit inside the stillness of this song......

lost in discovery.... always a good thing.

Yesterday, my daughter and I walked along a path through the woods together, both carrying our cameras. Everyone else was way ahead of us in no time. Knowing what we were up to, they left us to amble at our own pace.

As we
stopped and pondered....
visually framed and reframed....
found unique light and angles...
attempted to capture a feeling, a mood
enjoyed quiet peace,
we shared our growing interest in photography and nature.

Lost in discovery together.

What always amazes me is how a shared walk can look, feel and be experienced so differently. I guess it just depends on the lens you use to see through.

Tonight, Martha posted a few of her photos on her blog, from our walk through the woods up on Keswick Ridge. Her ability to capture a feeling..... a mood is a gift. Her ability to confidently design visual collages of life stories like its a simple thing to do always makes me smile. At age 16, Martha is finding her own path...... and it is a beautiful one indeed.

Please check out her blog and let her know what you think of the photos she chose to post. Though I am biased of course, I think you'll like them. Besides, we all know how much a little encouragement (besides from her parents!) has the potential to stretch beyond the horizon.....

thanks.

ps...the photo above was taken by a friend.

CISV, Children's International Summer Villages....

Quiet on the home front. Earlier this evening, a group consisting of three young adults and three young at heart adults gathered in my livingroom to share their thoughts and feelings about a thing called "Seminar Camp...." It is one of the kinds of "camps" associated with an organization called CISV (Children's Internation Summer Villages). Two of the young adults had just returned from a 3 week Seminar Camp in Mexico City. The other young woman took part in one in Amsterdam a couple of years ago. The program is designed for interested 17 and 18 year olds from around the world to come to live together, to connect, interact, discuss, debate, laugh, cry, dance, and basically figure it out. It's kind of like a multi-cultural "Big Brother" except that no one gets voted off the island, and its not filmed.

Participants plan their activities, make their own meals, facilitate the day, take turns leading and take turns following. They learn about other's opinions, how to listen, how to express themselves........ how cultures are different and how human beings are the same. It's a small manageable model of a global village, which promotes the open goodness of equality, human rights, independent thought.....

As far as I'm concerned every single 17 year old should have a chance to learn this way. And from what I heard tonight, the 3 week experience has the potential to be life changing at an age when there is such a desire to delve into the big moral questions..... at a time when personal values and life directions/options are shuffling as fast as a card dealer. Meeting and sharing deeply, thrown into a place of discomfort at the beginning where one's opinions are challenged, where secrets and new ideas are thrown out into the circle for consideration, contemplation, reflection, introspection.

CISV has become an important and very special organization for my family and I this year, and will continue to be front and centre from here on in, I imagine. We had heard of CISV through our friends when their children got involved and knew that the local chapter was very active due for the most part by one passionate woman. There are a variety of programs offered for all different ages, but was initially created by a another very passionate woman named Doris Allen, after World War 2 (yes, it's been around that long) who wanted to create a program that would promote cultural awareness and peace. Doris decided that the best age to promote these key values was 11 years old. At that age, they were still receptive to differences and similarities. Keen to learn and make new friends, 11 year olds were chosen as future "ambassadours of promoting peace on earth.

So, she started up a thing called a "village" and began to bring together 11 year olds to live in together multi-culturally for a month. Since then, it has taken off and other programs for all ages have evolved right around the world The purpose of the village for 11 year olds is to learn about one another by sharing of themselves and various characteristics of their home country. The real underlying SOUL purpose is to make friends.....lasting friendships with people from all over the world.

This time last year, my son began expressing his interest in attending a CISV Village. He had learned about it from friends at school and through our family friends whose children had attended Villages at age 11. Max is a keener when it comes to geography and history. Politics, which is a topic of discussion in this house came to life for him as he followed Obama's rise to Presidency. Ever since he was very young, he has asked a bazillion questions about countries, cities, capitals, flags, mountain ranges, oceans........ a large map of the world adorns one of his bedroom walls.

His interest in learning about other countries was flamed considerably by his Grade 5 teacher who orchestrated a year long project on Africa which included numerous interactive presentations ranging from music to poverty to topography. Because of his unflinching focus on all things CISV, this whole family began to take notice. We began to get involved. Throughout the last year, both of my children took part in various "mini-camps" run over winter weekends.... 25-30 kids, ages ranging from 10 to 25 came together for songs, games, discussions, learning, growing and becoming more aware of the issues and the need for global unity.... through peace and goodwill.

Last spring, when the "camp lists" were decided upon (ie. which ones the Fredericton chapter were invited to and would send delegates) both of my children put their names forward. My daughter, caught in a personal conundrum of applying for a summer camp for 15 year olds in Madrid or pursuing her original plan of applying to be a Counsellor in Training, finally chose the CIT route.......perfect choice for her at this point in her life. She is loving it.

Max, pushed forward and applied to be a delegate. He was interviewed by a parent whose own daughter had attended the year before, and had to explain exactly why he wanted to be a part of it. We were both so impressed with how much thought he had put into it, how he prepared his answers......made much easier because it came from his heart.

Well, he was chosen and will be one of 4 kids who will represent Fredericton and Canada at a 4 week CISV Village in Costa Rica (accompanied by a leader who is AMAZING btw). It takes place at the end of December. Our attention and fundraising efforts will support Max as he steps beyond his bedroom full of maps, sports paraphenalia and posters of Obama, towards a life opportunity that will most likely help mold his thoughts and feelings and actions as a member of this crazy world we live in. We are all so excited for him..... and he is beyond the MOON excited.

And as for the meeting tonight in my living room? Fredericton has been chosen as a CISV Seminar Camp for the summer of 2010. When they were looking for a volunteer to coordinate the planning of it, I found that my hand went up. Badabing! As much as I would LOVE to run the day to day show next summer...........to be the coach and facilitator, my role is to set it all up and get them all there...... I'm psyched.

This is one organization I am very interested in becoming involved in. If you have any interest, or think your children would, I highly reccomend that you google CISV and learn more about it............find out if there is a chapter near you.


ps. The photo was taken on the site of the camp. I have a feeling there will be many heartfelt conversations that will happen exactly on that spot.....

anticipation.........Greenbelt.

"How can you stand next to the truth and not see it?"
U2

Dreams and thoughts
need to be spoken, written, owned
sewed into the fabric of destiny.
Only then can they be seen.
Only then can they reflect truth.
Only then will they have the potential
to become as real as touching the warm flesh of a friend.

Inside my imagination I anticipate
colours poured into a dancing mosaic.

Fueled by lyrical descriptions I have read,

worship spills out in tender cadences

among the sea of receiving minds.

I've been told the air is thin

allowing gasps of reverence to filter in scoring beauty

like jetstreams crisscrossing a clear blue sky

like orange wisps reaching out of the morning dew

like a hummingbird tickling nectar from a purple blossom,

like a smile, soaked in tears of recognition.
like an eternal echo of a whispered promise.

If I close my eyes, I picture

the deep green of late summer

a cup filled with kindred cheer

a buffet of venues under sunshine bigtops

a hand held out for me to hold

and another which will guide.

If I open my ears, I can hear

songs of hurt, hope and hallelujah

comforting silence floating in midair

deep discourse late into the night

expressions smothered by embrace.

Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time.

Dreams are within walking distance if you know which way to go.
I have walked. I am walking....

I have written, spoken, described, hoped.....

This dream of mine is now within reach.
I sit within its moment of anticipation....
a place of excitement and trepidation.

At the end of this month, I will meet up with a dream as I take part and breathe in the Greenbelt Festival. I've stood next to this truth and inside these wishes and have seen it. Soon, I will live it.

this weeks Sunday Scribblings' prompt is "anticipation..." VERY timely indeed. For more interpretations, check out their blogsite.

magic and loss

When you pass through the fire

you pass through humble

You pass through a maze of self doubt

When you pass through humble

the lights can blind you

Some people never figure that out.

You pass through arrogance, you pass through hurt

You pass through the ever present past

and its best not to wait for the luck to save you

Pass through the fire to the light.

As you pass through the fire

your right hand waving

there are things you have to throw out

That caustic dread in your head

will never help you out.

You have to be very strong

'cause you start from zero

over and over again

As the smoke clears

there's an all consuming fire

lying straight ahead.

They say no one person can do it all

but you want to in your head

But you can't be Joyce

So what is left instead

You're stuck with yourself

and a rage that can hurt you

You have to start at the beginning again.

And just this moment

This wonderful fire starts up again.

When you pass through humble

when you pass through sickly

when you pass through

I'm better than you all

When you pass through anger and self deprecation

and have the strength to acknowledge it all

When the past makes you laugh

and you can savour the magic

that let you survive your own war

You find the fire is passion

and there's a door up ahead, not a wall.

As you pass through the fire

as you pass through the fire

trying to remember its name

when you pass through the fire licking at your lips

you cannot remain the same

And if the building's burning move towards that door

but don't put the flames out

There's a bit of magic in everything

and some loss to even things out

.......some loss to even things out

Lou Reed

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

Now thats a trinity!

soulmates

(dawn's early light...the view from my backdeck, june 8, 2009)

It happens in a flash

when you're least expecting it,

under sleepy eyes opening

to draw in a dawning of something very special.

In a blink,

two flames merge

channeling into one spirit

of effortless honesty and mutual understanding.

Soulmates....

move to a rhythm of blending lifetimes

and form from a mixture of tears and clay.

Simple yet deeply eternal

Clear yet vibrantly profound

Effortless yet energetically alive

Comforting yet soulfully emotional.

Pleasing yet discomfortably stretching.

Surprising yet divinely meant to be.

Spiritual beyond reason.

Rare beyond a dream come true.

Anything is possible when fate alights

like catching a firefly on a winter night.

When you encounter your soulmate, its like tasting mountain spring water from their cupped hands after a long walk alone in the high altitude. You have no idea where they have come from, but they arrive under a clear blue sky when there is a mutual need to quench each other's thirst.

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

who me?

Colourful, fresh and fruity

a fusion of unforgettable iris accords

a radiant touch

a luminous favourite

embodies the mystery of seduction

captivates your senses

exudes confidence

Bright, alluring and timeless
attracts like a sparkling floral bouquet
vibrant, current, sets your spirit free...

unpredictable and unique
an audacious blend of dazzling floral and woody notes
marries freshness, vibrancy and feminity

bare skin beauty
natural luminosity
sexy, smokey
exceptional charm
dazzling, bewitching and highly sensual
enchanting sophisticated, without being too serious
even a little whimsical

irresistably luminous lips
tempts your senses
focused on promise, chance and happiness....

Playfully twists notions of feminity

and subtley grows richer and more sensual,

revealing the velvety interior of the rose.
WHO? Me?

Unfortunately, not me. I pulled these hot momma descriptors out of a flyer promoting perfumes and beauty products. Who writes this stuff? Do they get heated up and turned on while stirring inside those passionate adjectives, blending them into a scene of romance? Are these the same folks who write soft porn?

So here's my confession.....I would love to be described using these expressively sexy and dare I say LUMINOUS words.... I was named after my mother's favourite perfume after all, so it must mean I should qualify on some level doesn't it?

Hmmmmm.......let me take a sniff.....oh, yes this bare skin beauty does "exude an audacious fragrance that blends floral and woody notes....with a tantalizing touch of bergamot and a twist of citrus essence."

I have a dazzling ass too.

What the hell is bergamot anyways? It sounds mossy.

This week's theme over at Sunday Scribblings is confession....Got one??

twin peaks

when accumulative past failures conjure up

clouds of trampling tensions

and fills a pail full of sorrows

when you find yourself

in the heat of an argument

where no wins, only losses are in sight

when bitter replaces all remnants of sweet

and numbness engulfs you in a shell of a victim

when you realize you have no control of the past

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

the only thing left to do is

to soften in the freedom of

surrender.

when the shared airspace sends signals

punching in all directions

sensuous warm currents of electricity

when mindful closeness conjures up

clouds of tempting tensions

and hypersensitivity clings

to the catching breaths of finger tips

no words, only unspoken desire is heard

when steps together spin a rhythm of the heart

and two bodies reflect one entrancing shadow

no matter when or where or why....

the only thing left to do is to reach

beyond yourself to a releasing

sweet surrender.

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