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

life is a bowl of soup.

On the surface, living ethically is a brain stem driven exercise in learning what is right and what is wrong, what is good and what is evil. We learn this as children. Crisp and clear cut, they lean heavily in favour of compassionate morality.  What could be simpler than knowing what is compassionate and what is moral?  A five year old can tell you what you're allowed to do and what you're not allowed to do.  Be kind to others.  Share your stuff.  Don't be a bully. You're no more special than anyone else.  Everybody is beautiful. You can't have your cake and eat it too, unless it's your birthday. 

Ethics are easy to live by.  The Ten Commandments lay it all out for us to follow.  There are policies and rules to guide us in our workplaces, and laws that structure our communities.  When we stumble a little in our early learning, trying to know just how to act, all we have to do is fall back on our inherent  conscience and bingo!  We know the direction we must go.  With all of what has been scribed and legislated combined with what we have been taught in church, in our homes, in our schools, we shouldn't have any problems whatsoever in knowing right from wrong. Right? What's so brain taxing about that? Duh! Hardly even a blip on our cerebral map.

Oh, if it could only be that easy......... would life be much easier if we could carry on as robotic entities living within this framework?  On the other hand..........................

The very presence of ethics creates an atmosphere of discomfort.  They tax our thinking and put a dent in our hearts.  They stretch us with their slippery fluidity and force us OUT of our little head huts into the fire.  What I believe and try to live by may be a completely different set of rules than what another holds onto.  When you really consider the whole essence of ethics, aren't they the fuel of all conflict?

Ethics can make you.....Debate, Investigate, Contemplate, Instigate, Hesitate, Formulate, Confiscate, Prostrate, Perambulate, Frustrate....

They can be, Inspiring, Tiring, Fortifying, Terrifying, Testifying, Conspiring.....

They can leave you in a pot of soup desperately trying to figure out which way is the way out of the pot.  So much of life is a simmery mixture of choices and values we initially learn as children as the clear broth of yes or no.  Reality is not like that.  Life is not like that.  Adulthood ain't like that. There are NO easy answers because the dilemmas formulated from the crossroad questions, we quickly learn that life is a complication.    We try to grapple with the issues which begin to boil over with storms of controversy, and realize quickly that we become stretched to the max as we figure out just how to stop stirring the pot.  

I can't believe how complicated relationships become.......... and it seems to me that instead of working towards a way of communicating with love and compassion, that we choose to add more spices to the pot and keep stirring and stirring and stirring.  Ethics and what we believe in fuel our lives, but they are never ever without controversy. 

As much as I would love to live a life of simplicity, where there is not clutter of emotional insanity, where I can live with a semblance of orderly ethical beliefs, life is simply not like that.  If I'm honest about it?  If things were laid out in colour coordinated folded linen like you see in a Martha Stewart magazine, I'd probably sneak into the photo shoot and mess it up.  Having said that........................ there are certain rules I will abide by...........

Be kind to others. Share your stuff. Don't be a bully. You're no more special than anyone else. Everybody is beautiful. You can't have your cake and eat it too, unless it's your birthday.  And, don't mess with a good thing.

a walk around the block.....

When mornings are heated by the intensity of counselling sessions, a noon hour walk is a must.  It clears the old noggin, and allows me to lose myself a bit through the lens of my camera.  Somehow the very act of seeking out colours, lines, designs, angles with my own internal lens, I can draw out all that I'm withholding in my cluttered brain.  It helps me refocus for the afternoon portion of my job.  

I often feel like I travel many miles within the course of a day interacting with other individuals.  Sometimes it feels like a very bumpy road.... sometimes it feels like the trip takes no time.  Sometimes it is draining, filled with more rest stops than normal, just to catch one's breath. Many times, there is relief, progress, change, happiness, anger.... heart touching stuff, all of it.  

Broken and beautiful.......healed and stronger.

Travelling with another through snippets of their lives is always astonishing.... always a blessing.  It's a blessing because it doesn't happen if trust isn't established.  It doesn't happen unless a connection is made between the two of you.  To me, this is the most fulfilling type of travel I can think of.  To learn to walk a mile in someone else's shoes.  

When I'm involved in listening to someone's life story, I try my best to concentrate as much as I can.... in order to absorb the nuances and meaning behind what someone has decided to share.  Cues from the non verbal stuff feeds the intuitive nature of counselling.  As much as I love it, in order to continue on, I have to seek out balance..... I have to clear my head in order to be ready for another trip with someone........... 

A walk around the block with my camera companion is always the best way for me to find that balance again.......... that and a good cup of tea.   These chosen photos are my favourites from today's little jaunt under blue, blue November skies........

Travel is the photo theme over at Carmi's this week............for more travel shots, check out his blog.  You won't be disappointed.......... I always love that trip to Written Inc.

being understood....

I can't think of anything more life affirming than the feeling of being understood. Its like finding an open door leading to a cozy room, warmed by a stoked fire. Inside is someone who welcomes you with a generous smile and a genuine twinkle in their enthusiasm to see you.

Being understood is the confirmation that your style and your way of being is accepted unconditionally. It feeds that feeling of being comfortable in your own skin. You can relax, let your guard down, be yourself .... accept yourself .... forgive yourself. It can only happen, however, if you are in a place of comfort with who you are, and how you are.

Have you ever spent time with someone who is unable to let go of their self consciousness? So acutely aware of people who may be watching in judgement, they trip over their own projected image. It's like they are electrified with discomfort, terrified that they won't be accepted that they try too hard.

The aura around someone who is acting out of character, who is obviously uncomfortable in the own skin fills with a feeling that makes others around them feel unsettled. All the hard work beforehand....the primping and planning, the worry and the fretting to ensure that every piece of clothing is just right, that the makeup is applied without too much blush, that the accessories are not too flashy and not too conservative.... all that bother ends up creating the exact atmosphere this person was trying so hard to avoid. The unsettled feelings others have keep them at bay. The person remains on the margins. Soulfriend homeless.

Unwelcomed. Misunderstood. Destined to remain standing in the middle of an echo, behind a mask that just doesn't fit. What a complicated paradox.

John O'Donohue captured the essence of being understood so beautifully throughout his book, Anam Cara, and ties it into the love, belonging, and feeling of finding a home inside another ......."Love allows understanding to dawn, and understanding is precious. Where you are understood, you are at home. Understanding nourishes belonging. When you really feel understood, you feel free to release yourself into the trust and shelter of the other person's soul." And to think we all thought a home had a roof and 4 walls!

It can't happen easily if a person doesn't find a home within herself. You have to start by loving yourself.... being kind to yourself .... accepting your imperfections as beauty marks of a life lived. It rarely happens if there is internal discomfort crawling under the skin, layering any honest vulnerability. It is almost impossible to find that open door with the warm hearth and the genuine twinkling enthusiasm when the person isn't authentically who they appear to be.

As much as we should embrace the unembraceable, love the unlovable sadly most of us walk away in an effort to get out from under the jittery aura, all the while trying to understand the person behind the persona. Phoney does that.

___________________________


ps.... What I love and admire of my friend Lisa (whose legs appear in the accompanying photo is the confidence she exudes in her beautiful unique attire .... and the fact that she lets me stalk her with my camera every Saturday at the Market! thank you Lisa! xx

becoming an adult....

Pip in action:
Growth does not reside in a place called comfortable....

Time keeps marching on and i try my hardest to keep up. But honestly, how in the heck did 49 years pass by so quickly? The best we can do is to pack in as much living as possible and savour it to the fullest. Not just the big whopping mind blowing moments, though those tend to stick their necks out most predominantly and become our personal milestones.... but the day to day morning glories too.

This week has been a blur of activity.....from meeting and greeting 200 new students to the College, to sitting down one on one with a few who needed some reassurance during their transition back into the classroom, to kicking off a night course I'm teaching on Crisis Counselling, to organizing my own family and home for the beginning of the school year. There have been trips to the store for school supplies, a meet the teacher night tonight (I'm not impressed let me tell you with the caliber of teachers my son has this year.....but will wait on the final call on that one....) to dealing with incompetent bureaucratic systems to crashing on the couch last night in what was probably the most rivetting and important speech Obama has made since his inauguration. You know you're a tired puppy when you fall asleep sitting up while that guy is speechifying! It has been such a great week!!!

My life is full and i'm very happy. It is frantic at times, but I work best when I'm juggling many things at once. It energizes me and my brain cells. Too much down time and I become a unfocused slug. In the middle of the beautiful melee of living right smack dab in the centre of many fronts, I realized just how content I am. The only word I can use to describe it is "integrated...." That's how I feel. And the only way I managed to get there.... to a place where I'm firing on all cylinders again .... admittedly the first time in years, had all to do with 4 days at a racecourse in Cheltenham when I immersed myself in the Greenbelt festival. The late evening/early morning talks back at the hotel played a huge role in it too.

I knew I needed to get there. I didn't know why. I just knew my "want" had turned into a "need." I knew it was an integral part of whatever journey I am on. There were key "happenings" which I hope to be able to capture in words soon that in all honesty altered my thinking, my feelings.......and placed me on a different axis. A few important decisions were finally made. My outlook now shines from a better angle..... it simply happened after carrying them around for far too long. Enlightening, inspiring, challenging, and fun. It was also difficult. It was in the place of difficult where I grew the most. Not surprising.

Greenbelt was a destination that I thought had a beginning and an end. I was so wrong. The lessons I learned, the reflections I fell into, the moments I stayed right in the long now are a part of who I am and how I am seeing my life and the blur around me. There is a calm.....there is more patience. There is enthusiasm and less fretting. There has been a disconnection from the rubbish I had to endure over the past couple of years.

Pip sometimes asks on his blog..............How old were you when you became an adult? I thought I had already crossed that threshhold. I thought I had passed through the passages while experiencing the big whopping mind blowing moments. It wasn't until I was sitting alone outside of the Performance Cafe on the Saturday night listening to the music inside the tent, that I realized I had become an adult that day. Something clicked when I started to think about where I was physically and spiritually, where I had been, and letting go of where I may end up.

Becoming an adult, I realized was learning to let go of life's control panel, and to find a different kind of comfort in the vulnerable side of difficult. The only way you find that comfort zone is to recognize that letting go..... surrendering ...... can take you to a place where acceptance greets you with a nod. I may have been sitting there all alone, sitting off in the margins thinking about a very special "Greenbelt moment" that I had experienced earlier in the day, watching the Greenbelt world go by...........in fact a group of teens disguised as minstrels strolled by, stopped and then spontaneously sang the most movingly upbeat version of Amazing Grace I had ever heard....... there was a feeling of infinite possibility in the night air.

Today........I turn 49. Today, I think I can confidently state that I'm finally an adult. Better late than never eh? Man, that was a long adolescence!

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.....

please sir, I want some more....

Where is love?
Does it fall from skies above?
Is it underneat the willow tree
That I've been dreaming of?
Where is she?
Who I close my eyes to see?
Will I ever know the sweet "hello"
That's only meant for me?
Who can say where she may hide?
Must I travel far and wide?
'Til I am bedside the someone who
I can mean somethin to ...
Where...?
Where is love?

There are some things you can't make up........even if you have the most outlandish imagination. Where is love? I think its found in a turkey baster. What is love? Sharing your sperm with the guy who sang "Beat It."

From the Globe and Mail:

"Former child acting star Mark Lester said in a British newspaper yesterday that he donated sperm to Michael Jackson and believes he could be the biological father of the late singer's daughter Paris.

Lester, who played Oliver Twist in the 1968 film musical Oliver!, told the News of the World: "I gave Michael my sperm so that he could have kids - and I believe Paris is my daughter." He said he was willing to take a paternity test to establish whether or not he is 11-year-old Paris' father.

The 51-year-old Briton became friends with Jackson and is godfather to Paris, and Jackson's two other children, Prince Michael, 12, and seven-year-old Prince Michael II, known as Blanket.

"It's a been a secret for so long," Lester told the weekly tabloid.

"In 1996 Michael asked me if I would give him my sperm and I said yes. It was a gift to him, no money was paid, it was something I was honoured to do. He wanted children so badly."

Lester added: "I want to have contact with her, Prince and Blanket regardless of whether any or all of them are mine. I think it's cruel that I've now been excluded from them."

He said that since Jackson's mother Katherine had been granted custody of the children following the singer's death, all his phone calls and e-mails had gone unanswered.

Lester, who has four children himself, said there was a strong resemblance between his 15-year-old daughter Harriet and Paris.

He told the News of the World that Jackson first confided in him in 1996 that he was desperate to be a father.

Both were then aged 37 and Lester already had three children. "He realized having kids was a natural thing but that he just couldn't do it," Lester said. "I mentioned the fact there are alternative ways of going about it.

"I think he'd already tried using his own sperm but it hadn't worked for him, so I made an off-the-cuff comment saying, 'Try mine'."

Jackson agreed and the donation was arranged through a clinic in Harley Street, London, in February 1996.

Eight months later Jackson announced he had married nurse Debbie Rowe and three months later the couple revealed the birth of their first child, Prince.

Paris was born just over a year later, in April 1998."

Good luck to you Oliver trying to gain access to your daughter.........You've got a Jacksonian mountain to climb. But, I bet you'll land on Larry King in no time, and who knows maybe your acting career can be re-erected.

our own skin

So much of what we learn is through imitation.
So much of what we want is to be just like another.
So much of what we yearn for is to be accepted.
So much of what we do is to feel we're understood.
So much of what we need is to know we belong.
So much of our actions are to show someone we exist.
So much of what we share of ourselves is to try to give love.
So much of what we cry out for is a chance to be loved.

Let much of what we do and learn be with gusto.
Let much of what we do and learn lead us to a sense of belonging and affirmation.
Let much of what we do and learn allow us to offer this feeling to others.
Let much of what we do and learn lead us to that place where we find comfort in our own skin.

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.

Sir Paul

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise,

Where to begin?

Halifax was definitely blessed on Saturday with the most beautiful sunny summer day and the most amazing concert I have ever attended....(though I haven't seen U2 or Springsteen yet, so this may be a benchmark I intend to step over one of these days). However, I have attended many concerts in my young life and by far Paul McCartney blew them away and left me gobsmacked. Heaven knows I wasn't alone, but like everyone else who attended, I was into my own trippy nostaligic thoughts that seemed to unravel like a bunch of colourful ribbons floating right out of me into the night breeze.

As soon as Sir Paul began to sing, I was transported into places in my memory which held all those ribbons of happiness. Though I was expecting to feel a sense of glee, I don't think I was prepared for the deeper ties I felt to the music and to Paul McCartney's voice. He sounded exactly how he did long ago when I listened to he and the Beatles on a scratching tape deck recording in the old craft shop at Camp. For some reason, I didn't think that would be. I thought he would sound like an older version of himself.....kind of like how Sinatra's voice altered as he aged. He didn't! He sounded like Paul before the whole Knighting thing.!

Not only that, the man ROCKED it out for almost three hours and played several different stringed instruments, and the piano. Bass, electric, acoustic, mandolin...even the ukelele he was given as a gift from some guy named George Harrison which he started the song "Something...." after he told a wonderful story about his collaboration and friendship with George. There he was strumming the uke and singing all by himself to an oh so familiar and much loved song, with the background screen showing a montage of old photos of the two of them. Then, the song went into full orchestration and continued with a little help from his band.

Every single song was memorable. 36 in all....in one evening......every single song pulled up memories, some more predominantly touching than others. There were several "pinch me" moments. All you had to do was look around at the crowd of people to see just how perfectly happy they were to be there witnessing and listening.....to be caught up in the throngs of people who were generating their own warm nostalgia and letting it freely catch the breezes above the crowds was quite simply....magical.

I loved seeing so many people in their 50's and 60's there together as couples, arms wrapped around one another swaying and remembering....love is all you need....

I loved seeing the younger folks, many with long hair and head bands....the strings hanging down in the back. Tie dye t-shirts blended in with tank tops and mini skirts. Oversized t-shirts and baggy bottom jeans..... it was a collage of fashion spanning 40 years.

I loved seeing the parents with their younger children, coming together to experience a moment.

I loved seeing the old fart druggie types who seemed to be on the wrong end of a cigarette butt....all scraggy with scruffy unshaved faces and a bit toasted from one or two or three too many parties. They were transported back to better days....

I loved watching the interactions between the seasoned concert goers and the uncomfortable suburban types who have never been to a full on outdoor rock concert before let alone interacted much with this type of crowd. They soon fell into the magic of sharing a moment with strangers who all seem like friends...

But mostly, I loved watching my son take it ALL in!

Every time there was a whiff of marijuana in the air, which surprisingly wasn't as often as I had anticipated, he'd look at me in wonder! Too funny. And when one of the men who was part of a rowdy happy group next to us came over an in full inebriation put his arms around me like we were the best of friends and wanted to chat about his excitement over being there.....? WELL! I just laughed, and agreed. He then told Max how great it was to see someone his daughter's age at the concert just as excited as he was to be there.

My son's reaction to this display? "Mom, you attract the strangest people!" hahaha! I take that as a compliment.... and it's true. It certainly happens to me often!

Since we ended up somehow being one of the first thousand or so let onto the grounds, and therefore made our way to the front area with no problems, we had lots of time to observe and to take all of it in..... And we both did.

There were many memorable moments, but the one which fills me with something akin to gratitude and grace happened during the first few notes of Blackbird. It was when I realized just where I was standing....unbelievable to hear a song which has always always touched me in a place very few songs reach. I can't really find the words to describe that place. There is a holiness feel to it, like a pluck of perfection....like a harmonious blend of what makes up who I am.... the very foundation of who I have become from living, experiencing, sensing and feeling. Blackbird is one of those songs that rings that tiny bell.

Needless to say, I was awash in memories, mostly of the summer camp I attended and worked at so many years ago, but remain fresh in my heart. So often that song was played in the craft shop where I worked with a friend who loved the Beatles..... We'd have it playing in the background as we helped the campers create.....

Tears came bursting out of me before I could stop them.... I felt flushed and so darn happy to be there with my son experiencing such an amazing day..... Max took notice right away his Momma was kind of stunned by it all and he spontaneously put his arms around me and hugged me with such love. He held me and I held him as we sang the words together.... and listened to Sir Paul sing it as fresh as he did so long ago.

And when the first notes were played on the piano for Let it Be? I looked over at my 11 year old son and saw the emotions rush through him. He was very surprised by the flooding feeling! But, I was simply grateful to happily hold him and sway to the sounds of a song which seems to have the formula to last beyond lifetimes....

And when the night is cloudy,
there is still a light, that shines on me,
shine until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music,
Mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Brilliantly gobsmacked! We will never forget this day.
Love is all you need......and it was felt in abundance.

circles

Two people meet for the first time and for some reason there is a clashing feeling all around them. A bad vibe. A negative first impression. It happens in the split second that they are introduced. Strange skin ripplings. What's it all about?

It could be that one of them isn't interested in meeting someone. He has too much on his mind absorbing him inward? He's too busy stressing over his own life to bring someone new into his invisible circle....past the boundary wall he has emotionally built around him? Or maybe his boundary walls are thicker and wider than most? He's not confident meeting new people. It's hard to say. What is perfectly clear is the outward message....he isn't going to be curious enough to offer up a handshake.

The other person feels this energy. She can read the serious disinterest on this new face in front of her. There is a distant gleam in his pupils during the ONLY eye contact he gives. Smiles are not forthcoming. He mumbles out a hello. The message is loud and clear, though its difficult for this other person to step away from the inaccessible human being without wondering if he is reacting to her own demeanour. Maybe she comes on too strong? Maybe she looks like someone he dislikes? It takes a bit of an adjustment to realize that there is nothing she has done to warrant the cold shoulder behaviour. So, she turns away with even more curiosity about him than she had in the first place. She will wait for a more suitable opportunity. Or not.

Human being crossroads happen on an emotional level .... the dance of people circles.

Sometimes they clash right away like a flesh burning chemical spill.

Sometimes it only takes a different scenario to find a connection.

Sometimes they spin in their own unique energy but touch lightly and bounce delightfully off one another as a means of recognizing difference and commonalities. It may be that the relationship between the two circles remains at this kind of connection. Social, cordial, but mostly at a distance. Weather chats.....surface dwellers.....acquaintances. Until, perhaps another time. Or not.

Or.... it may be that this is just the beginning of a friendship. Testing the waters before one of them takes the risk of providing an opening into their own circle? If the other person accepts the invitation, the spinning changes its axis. Connections between two people always alter another person's circle spinning.

Sometimes, they merge into a sense of oneness.....two circles spinning in endless energy. Have you ever been in one of those relationships? YOU almost never, ever feel like you've finished a conversation because there's more and more to cover!

What happens if two people clash constantly? There's been bad blood spilled between the two. Rumours have preceded their meeting. Incorrect information has been provided to one of the human beings thereby clouding their vision, sending up a boundary wall around their circle. What happens if there is no respect, no interest, NO desire to harmonize even though they are working under the same roof.... attending school in the same classroom .... working on the same team? They will remain stalled in an uncomfortable, perhaps even a miserable existance until a shift happens.

There has to be a way found to pluck the curiosity string in both parties. This is the beginning of connecting...of possibly restoring harmony. Curiosity almost always leads to empathy. If I'm curious, and the other person is curious....... communication opens up. I want to know. You want to know. Listening happens. Emotions are charged and expressed and changed. Beauty is revealed. Respect deepens. Movement can occur.

Most human being circles aren't simplistic one dimensional designs. They are intricate developing labyrinths formed by threads of life experiences woven into complicated patterns soaked in mystery. There is depth to the maze, filled with hurts and healings and life experiences which make the designs unique. What is the same are the hues of emotion. We all have the same feelings.

What makes two people shift from clashing circles into a place of interactive respect..... where the very idea of "how you are matters to how I am....." A chance to be comfortable being curious.

Sometimes this happens when sitting in a circle sharing the space. Is there a feeling of safety caught within a circle? Is this why they are so healing??

secrets.....

I read this last night and sent it along to a couple of friends whom I've shared a few secrets with from time to time..... and whenever I have, they always reply.... "You are beautiful...." So, I share more..... :)

"I have come to believe that by and large the human family all has the same secrets, which are both very telling and very important to tell. They are telling in the sense that they tell what is perhaps the central paradox of our condition—that what we hunger for perhaps more than anything else is to be known in our full humanness, and yet that is often just what we also fear more than anything else.
It is important to tell at least from time to time the secret of who we truly and fully are—even if we tell it only to ourselves—because otherwise we run the risk of losing track of who we truly and fully are and little by little come to accept instead the highly edited version which we put forth in hope that the world will find it more acceptable than the real thing. It is important to tell our secrets too because it makes it easier that way to see where we have been in our lives and where we are going.
It also makes it easier for other people to tell us a secret or two of their own, and exchanges like that have a lot to do with what being a family is all about and what being human is all about."
Frederick Buechner.
_________________________

Wouldn't it be great if we all just let our guard down and spilled our real-ness knowing our vulnerability was completely recognized and accepted as the mirror of others? Wouldn't it be great that when we spill our real-ness, it precipitated a spilling response from others? Fear would be non-existant. A peaceful heart would be achieved. I'm thinking that this is where true unconditional love dwells....in the spilling of secrets and the non-judgemental acceptance of the truth.

And if by chance we cannot find open acceptance in a person whom we trust explicitly we always have the capacity to Twitter them to the Big Kahuna. I hear He likes to Tweet. :)

Man in the Mirror.

He had such brilliance and talent but was imprisoned in a tragically wounded soul. His success was astounding. His demise was astounding. His death is a shock. His music lives on.

Perspective is a great teacher when you open your eyes.....

I do have one question burning in my brain.....what's gonna happen to Bubbles? Oh, and who did he leave the Elephant Man remains to? I'm sure CNN will eventually inform us. Hold onto your crotches friends, we're in for a long long summer.....

playing for his supper

In between the sighing notes

hanging in the cool autumn air

are the colours of longing

in lonely blues.

Breath upon breath

he plays for his supper,

a musical melody

a lamenting need.

If you stop to really listen,

you will find the grace

tucked into the sound of the song.

___________________________

Walk out, into the sunburst street

Sing your heart out,

sing my heart out

I’ve found grace inside a sound

I found grace, it’s all that I found

And I can breathe

Breathe now
(U2 Breathe)

Thank you Pip for sharing theses lovely lyrics with me. I'll meet you out on the sunburst street. I'll be the one hailing a cab, breathing and looking for you. :)

This week's Photo theme at Carmi's place is musical. Play on!

attachments

“We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.”
ee cummings

I was wondering lately about the concept of attachment. It seems that most of what I've read rings with negative vibes. If one attaches to iconic beliefs, one sees the world through a myopic filter. In order to find self, one has to detach. To many, it seems that the idea of attachment reflects a leech-like one sided existance......of dependence and blindness.....of selfish need fulfillment. This surprised me. I hadn't looked at the meaning of attachment in this way. Rather, my thoughts led me in the opposite direction.

Sure, we become attached to material possessions. How many times do we say or hear, " I can't live without my...." Yes, we can easily become dependent on a belief system that lacks the fluid opportunities to question and challenge it. It's easier to swallow a message from the Bible whole rather than find the confidence to boldly question it. Relationships too can become one-sided, when needs of one consistently far outweigh the needs of another or when one person in the relationship displays control tactics in a power play. We all struggle with these unhealthy attachments as we figure out a way to balance and fairness. It's all part of life's learning....life's journey.

I want to look at attachment in a healthier sense because to me, it represents fellowship and belonging. Healthy attachments reflect mutual affection........an affinity of like minds. Healthy attachments can offer new insights of who we are, and how we are perceived and what our value is to this world. Possibly producing snippets of self- revelation. It is a bonding between two individuals or a connection to a place of worship, or to a community that allows one to find the confidence to show a vulnerable side. It allows one to feel an open-hearted sense of being able to show true colours thereby feeling accepted no matter what. The strings of attachment, when the feelings of affinity flow back and forth, are wrapped in acceptance and self-confidence. We are then able to strive for personal independence. Affirmation and attachment are the foundation to build on our independence. WE need love and belonging as much as we need air to breathe.

There are times when the balance of a friendship tips......personal circumstances pull on the strings in one way. Need for reassurance, need for more understanding, more commitment, more attention puts pressure on the relationship. It alters the role each person may have assumed in the attachment. Sometimes it's difficult to know how to help or to know how to ask for help. It may be new territory, especially if the friendship is newly forming, or if the needs are deep.Questions from both parties can arise, on both sides of the attachment, felt stronger when there is a unique sense of kindredness one doesn't find just anywhere.........

What does this person want from me?
How can I reach out to help this person without being misperceived?
How can I explain my pain and anguish to another when I can't even describe it to myself?
Why is this person reaching out to me when I have nothing to give in return?
Is there an underlying reason why this person would want to help me?
How worthy am I?

Are there strings attached to this person's desire to help me?

When it comes to connecting with new people in our lives, we are often untrusting beings arent we? Unconditional acceptance is a foreign entity in our lives, expecially if one has been burned before by someone who at face value seemed to be offering an open heart but then trumped you with a different agenda. And, yet unconditional acceptance, where harsh judgement plays no role, does exist between two people. It's a hard climb to make, but well worth it because these types of attachments.....this kinship is the most satisfyingly rich than any other.

Vulnerability, self-doubt, pain and confusion can easily block the questions from being posed. However, if the attachment is based on mutual admiration, on desire to give and take, on the awareness that the friendship can offer both enlightenment and personal growth, the questions need to be asked.........and answered........feeding the depth of affinity and feeding confidence in the reliability of the other person.

All relationships shift, all friendships breathe Commitment to making it work, to wanting to learn more about ourselves, desire to giving and receiving, and the expression of words allow attachments to flourish. Both parties must see the gift, and must want to take the risk to learn to trust to make it work.

No one likes to feel like a misfit. No one wants to feel lonely. We do want to be understood, accepted, loved, nutured.............no matter how large the scars are. We all need unconditional love provided through healthy attachments to thrive to feel alive. It's very real...........

***I wrote this piece a couple of years ago and reread it last night with new and different eyes. So, I thought I'd repost it again. Maybe there are new eyes out there too.

stories and impressions left behind....

You ask me to tell you a story about myself. I choose a single stream, fill it with my version of who I am and set it afloat. Some of the descriptives I use are my best attempt at capturing the complexity of my essence. Some are added to enhance the mood I want to convey. Depending on where I am emotionally, physically, spiritually my descriptives can radically alter the impression left behind. Depending on where, when, how and why I am telling this story of me, it will release a different flavour. ALL of those aspects play a part in the presentation. Faster than a flick of a switch the story changes scenes.

You ask me to tell you a story about myself. How well do I know you? How comfortable am I with you? Do I want to let you into the most intimate circle which surrounds me? How much time do we have? You want a postcard scribbling or a novel? Do you really want to know, or is it your job to ask me?? Or are you simply nosey?

• I tell you a story about myself at 4 in the morning when time stretches deeply into the well.......
• I tell you the same story at 2 in the afternoon over a cup of coffee during a break..........
• I write the same story out in an email to you and click send........
  

• I drum up a story as a way to express myself during a job interview as an elaboration on a point.
• I drum up the same one sitting across from you drinking a pint at a pub on a Friday night as an elaboration on a point i am trying to make.....
• I write the same one on my blog and click publish....

the same facts....right? It should be the same story, shouldn't it?

I could choose to give you simple facts.....the ones which really stay within the broadly accepted boundaries of decorum. I decide to step beyond that border and I take a risk by adding feeling and maybe a few disclosures I rarely share with anyone. Either way, I still select my story, simple or complex....... it's still a thin slice.

I am not my story. It is a part of me, but it is not who i am. It may not even by how I am really feeling. I may keep those true feelings to myself and mask them with face paste.

Well, I grew up in a small town with my parents and two sisters. I went to a small university. Then, I went to an even smaller university. I got married when I was 27. I have two kids. I work.

or how about.........

Let's see......I was fortunate to grow up in a loving family who were always supportive of my crazy dreams, who fed and nurtured my insatiable need to learn and to try new things.....They knew how to help me mold my independent wings and not clip them..... and so on.........

I'm much more than my story..... though if i continue to tell the same one over and over again even if the venue changes, or the time of day, or the tone........if i get stuck in this perpetual self-image, i'll begin to believe in the one dimensional script I have created. There are layers upon layers of my narrative which consist of domains I have yet to delve into. The mirror I hold up only skims the surface....deep inside are dreams and fantasies, feelings full of fear, love, pain, joy, sorrow....feelings that hold enough energy to sustain and heat a whole neighbourhood of imaginative folly fraught with flowing streams of conscious and unconscious thoughts and behaviour. I can only offer you a sampling and only from what I know myself.

I choose the buffet and how it is laid out. And if I do it right and pick the story most worthy of sharing.........if I choose the very best words and the most applicable feelings to set the tone.....if I choose the right place, the right time, I can provide an unending thread of my identity steeped in the delicate taste of a mystery unfolding. I can provide the bridge to further exploration into a deeper understanding of each other. Depending on what you want. Depending on where you are at....you may not want this. Then what??

This is what I can control....what I share of me and how I share it. I have no control over how you receive it. Or not? It seems to me we all have the ability to play with other's emotions. If I want your pity, for example, I can choose to use descriptives and a tone which illicits this....in writing, in speeches, in interviews, in conversations, in emails, on blogs.....in all ways that we communicate. And what is shocking about this is that I may not even be cognizant of this tactic because I may be feeling sorry for myself and stuck in that one dimension.

Words litter our pathway to understanding one another. We use them and abuse them. We hoard them and we spill them like water tumbling over the falls..... Words are our floral impression we can offer in love, but we all know they can be as sharply serated as a carving knife. We enhance, entice, exhilarate, express...... however its never the words on their own which tell our version of our story. It's the context with which they are used. Its the tone, the tempo, the timing. Its the reason behind the story which sits in the fabric we drape our words in.

You ask me to tell you a story about myself? If I can, I will try my best to be authentic, direct, honest. I will try my best to choose a thread from my tapestry which holds the key to my imagination, my hopes and my fears. I will try to find a story within myself you may find interesting....one which you may be able to relate to...one which best describes where I am in that moment. Because if I can, then perhaps we can move in closer to the truth of kinship.

It is all I can give you. If you don't like what I have to say? If it doesn't resonate with you....there is nothing more I can offer you is there? I must choose carefully. Though my story may not be ALL of who I am, it is what I can offer you. And if I don't choose carefully, I am left holding the dangling thread.

Alone.

don we now our gay apparel....

I awoke this morning with the desire to hear some glorious Christmas carols. I've been waiting for that internal "on" switch to be kick started because up until now, the whole festive season was taking a detour around my soul. Granted, for the past 12 days the only thing I've wanted to do was put my head under a towel and my face over a hot bowl of water and steam my sinuses, and then crawl back on the couch and go back to sleep. That hasn't helped the mood or the ambience. I've been one miserable snotty wench in need of a shot of adrenaline.

But this morning as I stood in the front doorway waiting for the puppy to behave and return to the housefold (she's now doing her best to drive Lily crazy with her unrelenting desire to hump her head), I realized that the fresh air was finally making its way to my head. Morning had broken and so had my cold. And I swear to God, I heard angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold........or was it incessant barking from the little dustmops our neighbours refer to as dogs? No, I distinctly heard the angels.....over and above the high pitched rodent yappiness.

It wasn't even a midnight clear........I distinctly heard them touch their harps.

Oh, I have made a few attempts to capture the miracle of the season. The mantle is decorated nicely with ivy, candles and little lights....my wreath looks pretty hanging above it with a new big shiny gold bow bursting out of the greenery. I spent a couple of hours wrapping the back deck with garlands and new outdoor lights I had just purchased only to enjoy it for two hours before half string died out. I have yet to find the energy to unwrap and return the friggers....or maybe I was afraid I'd blow a gasket at the customer service counter over the shoddy merchandise and be thrown in jail, charged with uttering expletive threats. I can see the headlines now....

Phlegmy Filly Flips out.....and Cries Festive Foul!

Family and Friends Faint in Fright.

It's a good thing that my head is finally clearing......the constant dull throb is almost gone. Almost....as I take a break to blow some of my brains out once more..... When I look around this place I realize how cluttered and shoddy it looks.......ooooops and I look too! No wonder I felt ugly all week. I AM! I've let everything around me and myself fall into an abyss of neglect. No wonder no one wanted to hang with me. Who would? I have sounded and looked like an old hag whose life has been one big burden who God had left behind as a miserable mistake.

What a mess! Sure, I've been going about buying gifties, picking up stocking stuffers, and you know what? I don't have a freakin' clue what I've purchased or WHERE I've even hidden them! Good thing I've always enjoyed a good treasure hunt. Unfortunately I have no clues to lead me. They were thrown out with the garbage full of tissues. Gotta make a list and stick to it. Gotta NOT freak out over the length of the list too. That will be a challenge. But, hey!! I'm up for it!! Just need the right music......Just need to stop and let the fresh air fill my head and lungs.....let the sunlight pour its energy into my pores..... and soon the chestnuts on the open fire will be a delightful activity once again. Bring on Bowie and Bing! This little drummer girl is ready to ratta-tat tat!



Yes, but my spirits are rising......I'm not perseverating on myself. NO! The fire in my soul isn't a fever....it's enthusiasm. I have this urge to make a more clear headed attempt at writing my annual Christmas letter, which up until now was coming out like a dirge rather than a sparkly piece of prose. I have this desire to pull out the old recipes and then pass them onto my daughter to do something with. I WANT to see the gawdy well loved ornament wreath adorning the living room again, and the angels, and holly and jingle bells...... all of a sudden I'm looking forward to the sweat inducing struggle to put up the tree STRAIGHT, to decorate with all of those ornaments my husband and I have been collecting since our wedding day 21 years ago. Each adorned with special meaning.


Please God, let the lights work!





Wow! Could it be the angels we have heard on high, singing sweetly o'er the plains............or simply the accumulated drugs in my system echoing its joyous strains? No! It's the angels dammit! They are singing again. Just in time for a week of Christmas luncheons with friends and colleagues.....and JUST in TIME for this family to get their act together for a our annual open house shindig next Saturday.......just in time to send out cards, get the parcels on a bus to Ontario......just in time to gather with friends to celebrate winter solstice out in beautiful Keswick Ridge......just in time to enjoy the miracle of the birth of the Prince of Peace. Thank God!

Gee, all of a sudden the thought of wearing my party dress is appealing! Bring on the little black dress, I'm up for the dance.

So, where to start? Well, after I make the traditional Sunday breakfast......bacon and pancakes, which I am already doing as I write this....such a multi-tasker am i, am i........ and then go deal with the pen marks recently scribbled on the sofa cushion by an errant puppy (I thought she was on top of Lily's head, not chewing a PEN on the sofa!!).......I will start at my toes and work up. I can always think better when my toenails are painted red. I can sing better too.

I love Sundays. I love this time of year. Let it shine merry and bright. Let us don our gay apparel....and have some fun.




hmmmm, where are those antlers?? I hope the kiddies are game still.... :) The parents always are....