window of wonder

“A blessing is a red light that stops you, says ‘No, don’t do it yet, take time, have another look.’ It allows presence to become clear. For our rhythm to be restored, we need some kind of stillness, and a blessing offers this chance, a window of wonder on to what is happening.” John O'Donohue.

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 There is nothing more guilt producing than the pleading eyes of my dog Lily when she needs to go outside for her last walk of the night.  Well, she's pretty pathetic during thunderstorms, when fireworks are exploding or some errant  hunter starts blasting his trusty gun at dawn down along the river during duck hunting season.  But, that's fear.  Her stance and glance come from a different place.   She wants protection.   A "take me for a walk" on the other hand, has the energy of a jumpy runner at the starting gate.   Except there are four legs doing the happy dance, and a long wet nose to nudge you towards the front door.

At this time of year, when the bitter winds feel like it's shredding your parka into bits of fluff, Lily's desire to romp outdoors after dark sends rippling shivers from my head to my toes.  It takes all of my reserves to force myself to bundle up and take her out there.    It's WAY worse when I have forgotten to complete this last routine of the day and have already had a long hot bubble bath, put my flannel jammies on and slipped into bed in search of stillness and sleep.

Ah, but the look....... the Labrador lingering look never fades.  It begins to pore into your comfy cozy conscience until the guilt shoves you out from under the puffy duvet, down the hall and into various layers of outdoor gear.  All the while, my lovable dog, who spends her day lazing about snoozing on various pieces of furniture and beds when no one is around to tsk, tsk her, turns into a snow puppy prancing while wagging her long happy tail.  Happy dance!  Happy prance!  

This was the scene the other night as I dutifully pulled my fleecy hat down to my eyes, my shawl under my long wool coat up to over my chin..... cheeks and eyes were all that were visible by the time I opened the front door and stepped into a chill so desperate it originally took my breath away.  It literally freezes the snot in your nose!  Instantly! 

Out we went.....me trudging in my fashionable mukluks, wrapped like a colourful mummy ...... she galloping over snowdrifts like they were wild growing hedges blooming in the summer!

As Lily bounded towards the end of the driveway, I slowly followed along.  It wasn't until I reached the road that I realized a few new centimetres of light fluffy snow had fallen earlier in the evening when it was a little warmer than it was now.  Did you know that sometimes it gets too cold to snow?  The temperature had dropped drastically during the time between snowfall and dog walk.  

Pristine.  Purely untouched powder lay on the street.  Not one foot print nor a tire tread had disturbed it.  We were the first crazy explorers to traipse through the powder.  As Lily ran ahead to attempt her trademark snow angel body rub, I stopped to look at the beautiful scene, and to listen to the muffled silence that only winter offers.  It was a quiet as an ancient prayer spoken inside the heart.  Peaceful as the sound before the first note in a song. 

I stood under the streetlight in front of my home and felt the stillness I had tried to capture inside when I was tucked in bed.  And, as soon as I felt this wave wander comfortably through me, I saw the artistry all around me, realizing right away that I had been given the gift of a blessing.  For on the new fallen white velvet were millions of winter diamonds shimmering a greeting.  Because the temperatures had dropped so drastically, the top layer of the snow had formed into glistening crystals that captured the light and reflected it up to my eyes.  

Irridescent glitter acting as minute mirrors startled into a rhythmic dance by the bitter cold air swirling above captivated my newfound gaze.  When I took a step, these clear gems delightfully jiggled all around me.  When we walked beyond the streetlight, they still sparkled as brilliantly as the stars above.  Perhaps they were pieces of fallen stars.....?  These beautiful sequins on white velvet opened the window of wonder just for me.  And I almost missed the red light.  I almost missed the blessing displayed outside on a cold January night.  Luckily I have a dog with pleading eyes...... She is a blessing too.

beach glass

So, here I am, sitting at my dining room table in front of my computer.  I have a group of candles burning beside me as the only source of light.  Flickering light. Flickering thoughts as I reflect on blogging. I can't believe I have been writing here in my own little corner of the blog world for 5 whole years.  Who knew I was so yappy? 60 months, 1825 days, and 1458 posts!

5 years later?  Older. Wiser? hmmmm.......... That's debatable.  Have I learned anything? Yes.  Have I changed?  Oh yes, big shifts.  Have I matured?  No.  Have I acquired a few more pock marks, bruises and beauty marks?  Oh my God have I!  Do I still see the world through the lens of the absurd?  You bet.  Has my world expanded?  To infinity and beyond....... collecting blessings and life long friendships as I have ventured. Beautiful blessings that reach out to all corners of this global village we live, work and play in. 

Awareness.  It's a far reaching theme umbrella to write under.  It suits me perfectly because it has allowed me to practise my writing, to experiment with wordplay, to reflect on new learning, obervations, to share stories, to make up rhymes, to broaden and to dissect. Most importantly, it has provided me a forum for personal growth, spiritually, emotionally, cognitively while hopefully offering up my own learning to add to your own learning through stories, poetry, opinion, essays, photography.

I'm struck with the range of topics I've attempted to tackle.  To me, each post seems like a piece of beach glass that I either stumbled upon, or had carefully chosen to display.  Some have been rounded and softened by the rolling waves, some still have pointy angles to them.  Those ones hurt a bit when you close your hand around them.  Shards of glass, all uniquely shaped.  Some clear like the sheets of a window, while others opague with a layer of white chalk on them.  The ones which are the most pleasing to my eye come in light catching greens and rare cobalt blue or porcelain white.

Beach glass doesn't come from nowhere..... they all have an unknown history much larger and grander than the remnant left on the shoreline.  What you see when you pick it up to explore its texture, shape and colour is merely the tip of its story.  Just like the writing I do on this blog.  So much of  what I write is the mere tip of my life's observations.  But just like the beach glass, it is what ends up on the shore of my thinking.......it's what gleams in my thoughts that I end up capturing.   

I look at what I've written and see it as individual pieces.  Then, I stand back to look at the body of work as a whole and I see the mosaic patchwork created.  Under the theme of Awareness, this elemental montage forms a rough worn window on my soul.  If my soul is a cabin in the woods down by the water, this is one of the windows where the light gets in.  Peak through the collage of beach glass and you will see a part of who I am. Not all of me.  

This blog is a slice of my story.  It captures reflected observations, feelings and opinions.  There is so much more I either choose not to share, havent discovered or written about yet.  That's the thing about awareness.  Not only is is a broad theme..... it is an infinite one as vast as the oceans where beach glass is tumbled and molded. 

Miles to go before I sleep.

My blog is a work in progress.  My mosaic window is incomplete.  Just like me............ there is more to learn.  There is more to explore.  There is more to reflect upon.  I am a work in progress.  Just like you!  A human becoming.....

5 years and counting........... I love this place and it warms me right down to my painted toenails that you seem to enjoy it too.  :)

 

painting by Valerie Leri

"Prayer does not use up artificial energy, doesn't burn up any fossil fuel, doesn't pollute. Neither does song, neither does love, neither does the dance." Margaret Mead....

even if you...
stumble in your prayers,
sing off key,
find that love can hurt
or step on your dance partner's toes
you're still living
an environmentally friendly existence.
Go Green.

hey knucklehead! I'm an ass...how about you?

People tell you, "I think you're very charming," so I feel wonderful. I get a positive stroke (that's why they call it I'm O.K., you're O.K.). I'm going to write a book someday and the title will be I'm an Ass, You're an Ass. That's the most liberating, wonderful thing in the world, when you openly admit you're an ass. It's wonderful. When people tell me, "You're wrong." I say, "What can you expect of an ass?"

Disarmed, everybody has to be disarmed. In the final liberation, I'm an ass, you're an ass. Normally the way it goes, I press a button and you're up; I press another button and you're down. And you like that.

How many people do you know who are unaffected by praise or blame? That isn't human, we say. Human means that you have to be a little monkey, so everybody can twist your tail, and you do whatever you ought to be doing. But is that human? If you find me charming, it means that right now you're in a good mood, nothing more. It also means that I fit your shopping list. We all carry a shopping list around, and it's as though you've got to measure up to this list--tall, um, dark, um, handsome, according to my tastes. "I like the sound of his voice." You say, "I'm in love." You're not in love, you silly ass. Any time you're in love—I hesitate to say this--you're being particularly asinine. Sit down and watch what's happening to you. You're running away from yourself. You want to escape. Somebody once said, "Thank God for reality, and for the means to escape from it." So that's what's going on.

We are so mechanical, so controlled. We write books about being controlled and how wonderful it is to be controlled and how necessary it is that people tell you you're O.K. Then you'll have a good feeling about yourself. How wonderful it is to be in prison! Or as somebody said to me yesterday, to be in your cage. Do you like being in prison? Do you like being controlled?

Let me tell you something: If you ever let yourself feel good when people tell you that you're O.K., you are preparing yourself to feel bad when they tell you you're not good. As long as you live to fulfill other people's expectations, you better watch what you wear, how you comb your hair, whether your shoes are polished--in short, whether you live up to every damned expectation of theirs.

Do you call that human?

Anthony de Mello, an excerpt from his book, Awareness.

humanity

"The person in misery does not need a look that judges and criticizes but a comforting presence that brings peace and hope and life and says: 'you are a human person: important, mysterious, infinitely precious, what you have to say is important because it flows from a human person; in you there are those seeds of the infinite, those germs of love... of beauty which must rise from the earth of your misery so humanity be fulfilled. If you do not rise then something will be missing... Rise again because we all need you... be loved beloved.'"

Jean Vanier.

recipe

God created man so he could tell a story

Eli Weisel



I have the good fortune to meet many people from all walks of life. Almost everyday, I meet someone new to me, usually through what I do for a living. I have no idea how many people I have had the pleasure to share small bursts of time together. Never the quantity......... always the quality. Needless to say, I have heard stories and have learned to help peel the layers off the surfaces in order to truly glean a deeper sense of the person behind the stories they choose to share. Their stories flow into my own. Our connections, even if briefly, have added the lustre to my own narrative. I carry storythreads of their tapestry as they do some of mine. From the painfully poignant to the joyfully celebratory........our stories intertwine and fold into our own human essence.


There are some people I've met who for one reason or another, leave a more profound impact on me. I'm sure this happens to all of us, and chances are someone comes to mind right away. There is no recipe for figuring this out, and believe me I've tried. Timing and a commonality are factors, but I often don't know who it will be or when it will happen. It always leaves me pleasantly surprised when it happens -- when I am confronted with a feeling that the connection goes far beyond the "regular" kind of meeting of the mind and spirit.


Last spring, I met a young girl who lives in public housing. Before I had been introduced to her, I observed her as she entered the community centre that was filled with a slew of children of all ages and their moms. There was an evident magnetism surrounding her. Her peers moved towards her, as she very comfortably strolled over to a mother who was surrounded by her little ones and was holding her newest 6 month old. The young girl confidently took the baby into her arms, gave him a loving hug while she continued interacting with the ones around her. Strong, capable, and seemingly self assured, this 12 year old had me wanting to meet her too......wanting to know her story. I wanted to know her dreams and what made her tick so brightly.


Since then, I have had the chance to watch her in a few different settings as well as sit with her around a campfire this summer at a local campsite park. I saw her again interacting with her peers while waiting to jump on a ride at the local exhibition. Even though there were hundreds of others milling around her, some with familiar faces, this little one stood out. It was like she had a light glowing from her as a means of highlighting her presence.


Is that it? Is that what attracts us to the others who seem to make more impact on us....that there is some kind of energy that pulls us in? We read often about the Laws of Attraction.......its the underlying premise of that book "The Secret...." but can you really exude this in a concious way or does it have to within you? Is it an attraction of the internality of another human being or is it merely physical attraction manifested by an external beauty?


Attraction stupifies. It comes in all shapes, sizes, ages, circumstances. It is more than what meets the eye because it somehow pierces the surfaces and triggers our curiosity, shakes our desire to know their stories and to share some of our own. Attraction awakens something deeply stirring in our own selves....compassion mixed with thin air. For me, when it happens, I feel more humanly alive, like i have found a new piece to my own tapestry that I may not have even known I was lacking. I want to find out who this person is and why they are triggering the mysterious compassion in me. I want to know their story and be a part of it. I want them to be a part of mine.

Frederick Buechner, whom I have quote before in my posts writes about this......“Compassion is sometimes the fatal capacity for feeling what it is like to live inside somebody else's skin. It is the knowledge that there can never really be any peace and joy for me until there is peace and joy finally for you too.”



Their are some who enter your life for a short wink but leave an indelible mark. When you think about how many people we pass by......the ones on the street, on the tube, at the market....at community meetings, in line at the coffee shop.....it's amazing to me how the chemistry of two people can pull them into a conversation.


Life is a lonely existence if we weren't curious to seek out the people whom we find an attraction to. On the other hand, we need to be with others whom we feel the opposite with and figure that out too. We would never learn new things about ourselves if blindly walked around not recognizing that it is in others we see our own reflections. Some are beautiful reflections,while other times we see our ugly vulnerabilities too difficult to swallow. Attraction and repulsion to others reflect our own stories as we reflect theirs........in truthful abundance.



Compassion and curiosity allow us to look into a mirror.....one that reflects not only our flesh, but has the capacity to reveal some of your hidden stories. Are you ready to take it in?

with enlightenment comes change

The breeze at dawn
Has secrets to tell you
Don't go back to sleep
You must ask
For what you really want
Don't go back to sleep
People are going back and forth
Across the doorsill
Where the two worlds touch
The door is round and open
Don't go back to sleep
Rumi

Our journeys hold meaning when one takes the steps with eyes and ears wide open. Meaning and truth can both enlighten and frighten......awareness is not for the faint of heart is it? When you think about it, enlightenment can be quite painful, especially when it strikes a the chord tied to a sense of losing your way. It doesn't come with a map you can hold in your hands. Rather, the map is found in the internal wintering of the soul where mysteries untangle at their own pace. Change disturbs. Change rattles. Change is life unfolding.

There's lots of time to sleep............later. Now, is the time to figure it out. Now is the time to tackle that nasty irritation........to push through the heartweep felt when heels are dug into resistance.

Today, is a new day, fresh with no mistakes. Don't go back to sleep. Chaos never lasts. Enlightenment comes after the storm.

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The word prompt this week at Sunday Scribblings is "change"......good old rollicking change......the kind of rattle felt south of the border this week. Yes YOU can.........change. For more coinage, click HERE.

soulthirsty snogging

"Rather than positioning sexuality and spirituality against each other as rivals, I see them as deeply related. The more I observe society's obsession with sexuality, the more I sense in it a thirst for transcendence.......

.......When a society so completely blocks the human thirst for transcendence, should we be surprised that such longings reroute themselves into an expression of mere physicality? Maybe the problem is not that people are getting naked, but that they aren't getting naked enough.....we stop at the skin instead of going deeper into the soul....."

Philip Yancey, Finding God in Unexpected Places




I read this tonight, and was reminded of a few recent conversations I have had which have reached a similar conclusion. Sexuality and spirituality co-exist as a means to alleviate loneliness and fulfill our inherent desire to love and be loved. Neither physical nor spiritual union can be suppressed for the other to take precendence and a human being can still feel whole......or can it? Is it possible to quench the thirst for both types of intimacy through one means? Potential topic for good wine sipping pondering perhaps?

radiance

While beauty gladdens our hearts, it makes us lonely too for what cannot be. True beauty is woven through the heart of life and is ever engaged with forces of ignorance, darkness, ugliness and negativity; yet domination and power are not beauty's way. Beauty works from within these conflicts of forces and her brightening may or may not appear. Where beauty seems absent, she is often hidden and still at workin the slow industry of transformation. So much of beauty is not immediately apparent and indeed it could take a long time before it becomes visible. It often takes a lot of struggle and committed attention and generosity, even sacrifice, in order to create beauty. This work of beauty is slow and patient; it is the transformation through which the darkness of suffering eventually glimmers with the learned refinement of true radiance. John O'Donahue.

Yesterday, a good friend shared with me her belief that suffering is an art through which we have the opportunity to strip away the Ego in order to reach towards a sense of clarity where we ourselves grow smaller in order to let God shine from within us. We dont vanish externally. Internally, however, we allow the beauty of God to alter the colourful prisms we see through. We become the essence of God. How radiantly Divine is that?

What if God was one of us? He is. One and all as one.

(you just never know what one will learn during coffee break in my office!)



The barbed wire fence in this picture glows from the sun making it seem like it is decorated with a string of tiny lights for celebration. Radiant.

46664

"Where there is poverty and sickness, including AIDS, where human beings are being oppressed, there is more work to be done.
Our work is for freedom for all ... We say tonight, after nearly 90 years of life, it is time for new hands to lift the burdens. It is in your hands now, I thank you." Nelson Mandela, speaking at his 90th birthday celebration

It is in our hands now. We have work to do. Let's not let him down. Let's not let them down.

a link to a beautiful song.....................

wanting to know......

Even though your body is always bound to one place, your mind is a relentless voyager. The mind has a magnificent, creative restlessness that always brings it on a new journey. Even in the most sensible and controlled lives there is often an undertow of longing that would deliver them to distant shores. There is something within you that is not content to remain fixed within any one frame. You cannot immunize yourself against your longing. You love to reach beyond, to discover something new. Knowing calls you out of yourself. Discovery delights the heart. This is the natural joy of childhood and the earned joy of the artist. The child and the artist are pilgrims of discovery. When you limit your life to one frame of thinking, you close out the mystery. When you fence in desires of your heart within fixed walls of belief, morality and convention, you dishonour the call to discovery. You create grey fields of 'quiet desperation.' Discovery in the nature of the soul. there is some wildness of divinity in us calling us to live everything. John O'Donahue, External Echoes, Exploring our Hunger to Belong

Our inherent longing to know has the capacity to take us on journeys far beyond our daily living and can awaken sleeping giants in our soul. It is both exciting and frightening.......as it can enrich the ordinary day into one of discovery. We need not physically travel far to expand our inner world.......a place where the unfolding of a mystery can lead to taking steps once thought to be past any reachable horizon. Exploration leads to discovering gems that perhaps one never thought even existed.

We are all miners of the soul.................if we want to be.

what it is..........

morning fog over river.

“It’s not always obvious when a person is yearning. Yearning is an exquisitely private or secret condition. What is yearned is true. To yearn is to see. Yearning is the natural remedy for discontent, agitation, non-specific grievance, prickly sensibility, and similar modern ailments. Yearning is a well-tended hope which has ripened slowly into a sweet, sensuous prayer. Yearning brings poise to the imagination, a pleasant momentum to consciousness, and an angel who plays a lute which drowns out the sound of the traffic. Yearning lifts you up out of the courtroom, away from the judge, the police, the lawyers and the witnesses against you. It raises you out through the window and up into the sunshine and the beautiful blue sky”

Michael Leunig

It makes me wonder whether yearnings remain so until one expresses them openly..........until the words are found so that they can be shared with another? Or should we keep our yearnings secret as an internal motivator to be self directed in our actions?

thank you katie for sending me this wonderful quote.........i just had to share ........... see you soon!!

the essence of joy

Beauty, the splendour of truth, is a gracious presence when the imagination contemplates intensely the truth of its own being or the visible world, and the spirit which proceeds out of truth and beauty is the holy spirit of joy. These are realities and these alone give and sustain life.

James Joyce.

I am in awe. Joyce has somehow captured the possibilities of prayer, the essence of life, and the vitality of joy all in one sentence.

fragrance

"Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heal that has crushed it."

Mark Twain

The relief of a downpour on a hot muggy day

A silent inner smile releasing pent up tension

a sighing collapse after admitting wrongdoing

a merciful sunrise

anew

the quiet interlude emanating harmony

the stillness after a decision to let go

the magic of recognizing a part of ourselves we may never have known had we not made a mistake.

Forgiveness is gift we often neglect to give ourselves.

We are quick to forgive others, so why do we hesitate to forgive ourselves?

hmmm....i also wonder how long it will take the New England Patriots to forgive themselves?

these flowers are for you.

"The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life and that in turn another until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt..."

Frederick Buechner.

Sometimes you don't know just how much of an impact your touch has on someone.... It's never the sweeping big gestures either, though I must admit if some stranger came knocking at my door with a wheelbarrow full of money and a new car in the driveway for me, I'd be totally touched. I may even give the stranger a big hug and embarass him/her with my yelps and yeehaws. Who said that money is root of all evil?

OK.......let me restart....


One small kind gesture can make you feel beyond rich. And then if you pass it on? Well........think of the possibilities. We all have the magic touch to offer someone an enriched heart. You can't put a value on smiling validation. It's priceless.

Morning Has Broken

"Beauty isn't a thing. It's a way of seeing."

Anthony de Mello

Clarity is found in the simplicity of beauty

Nothing in all creation is so like God than stillness.

Meister Eckhart

A clear crisp Canadian winter morning produces a stillness in the landscape. The sharpness of the cold initially feels like a slap on your comfortably warm face when you take your initial steps through the front door into the outdoors. With no breeze to speak of, the only audible sounds were my own....a swishing of my coat, and the squeakcrunch of my boots on the snow covered walkway.

I was in a hurry. Work beckoned. But as I put my bundles of books and bags down to open the car door, I looked up and around and saw what had been left on the branches of the trees the night before. My "way of seeing" shifted from closed focused goal driven busy-ness to an open minded sweep of seeing what was all around me.

take the time.........it whispered.......take the time to gaze.

Snowfrost, in splendour sparkling beauty adorned the branches of the normally naked trees. It had dressed them up in wonderland. Each branch was delicately brushed by the winter faeries who had quietly (and busily I might add) sprinkled diamonds of snow in the night when we were all asleep. It left a feeling of stillness, a natural holy space of contemplative presence.

I saw a pastel colour filtering through the fog.......a pale hue contrasting with the predominant morning white fog. I saw the glistening of snowbranches on a bush which would easily had blended into the snowbank behind it if it hadn't been for the shadows of the light reflecting onto the snow.

All alone..........not another person in sight........and yet I felt far from alone enjoying these gifts. After I took a few photos, I stood at the end of my driveway where I could see the river and a sweeping vista of the whole area. So peaceful. So quiet, even with the moving traffic on the road below. It seemed like the faerie dusting had muffled the sounds........ I took some long deep breaths of my cold crisp canadian air.........and felt empowered by the meditational gift offered to me and I swear all of a sudden I could hear a familiar hymn of peace fill this natural holy space.

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning

Born of the one light, Eden saw play

Praise with elation, praise every morning

God's recreation of the new day

..........a blessed new day........

...........gazing........

"Everything depends on the lens you use.

Make your gaze beautiful. "

John O'Donahue

second chance grace

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

Henri Nouwen

I still haven't found what I'm looking for.............

Not yet, anyways. But isn't that the journey of life? We are inherent seekers and doers. It's in our genes. It's in the salt found in our spirits. It is in the salt found in the food and drink we share with our friends and family. It is in the salt found in our tears.......flavouring our lives, as we learn and grow from trying. We may not get it right the first time, or the second or the third OR even the fourth time. God, we may not ever get it right, but what is a life where at the end of it, we haven't sought out and explored the world and the people around us?



What is a life where there is no reflection emanating back at you? What is a life of avoiding risks, of hiding from the truth, of not recognizing mistakes or celebrating accomplishments? It is one of suppressed regret.


It is a life of coulda woulda shoulda..............ooooops it's over.

What if you woke up one morning at 75 years of age with the stark realization that your life was not what you expected, or that you didn't do the things you wanted to do? Would you be paralyzed by the belief that it's too late to do anything about it? Would you beat yourself up emotionally to a point where you couldn't recover from the disease of regrets? Or would you be able to grab hold of a second chance, dust yourself off, make some decisions and start moving forward in a new direction?

Personally, I'd like to avoid experiencing that epiphany then. I want to reach that milestone with a rucksack full of attempts..............the second chances which led to both success and failures, all flavoured with the salt of life. In fact, I want no salt left to discard. I want it all used up.........as I taste life.

Nouwen writes of learning from our sorrows. Through our sorrows, we can find joy. Our choice is clear. We can choose to allow our sorrows to engulf and overwhelm us to a point where we stop trying, where we stop reaching out for the second chance. Or we can grab hold of the cup with both hands, take a big gulp of insight, swallow our fearful pride, stomp on our guilt, acknowledge our sins.............FORGIVE our mistakes as God forgives us and keep on with the search.

At any age..........at any age..........

We are seekers...........who sometimes need to take our turn hiding. We need seclusion to stop the world around us, to find the silence, to dwell between the breaths, to contemplate success and failures. We need it. Even in our hiding spots, however, we never stop seeking.

In fact, now that I am thinking about it, I wonder if we seek more deeply when we have retreated. Sure, it's much scarier to seek in the dark, but sometimes the challenge makes it all the more gratifying. Perhaps, finding the braveheart to reach out for a second chance at twilight is what it takes to be moved by life affirming grace.



Second chance grace. I like that tasty idea.

the mystery of transformation

“Martin Buber defines a miracle as an event that instills us with a feeling of “abiding astonishment”. The experience of being lost is the shadow side of experiencing something miraculous: both are bewildering, both transformative. Over time, if we are sensitive and perceptive, we will come to view all of life with a sense not of shock but of wonder. With wisdom we will shed our doubts and fears, regardless of the challenges or hardships we must confront. We will welcome the adventure. For it is life itself, with all its ambiguity and mystery, that is the hidden miracle – overlooked, omnipresent, waiting to be discovered and explored.”

a quote from the book Lost Souls, by Niles Goldstein

There are so many events in life which take a great deal of fortitude to reach the point where we can think of them with a sense of wonder. Or maybe I'm being too narrow in my own definition of wonder and astonishment because I tend to associate these feelings with positive experiences filled with smiling joy or surprising revelation. Could astonishment and wonder be applied to the other more serious and sometimes tragic events in our lives? After all, it is life too isn't it?



When we are confronted by a tragic death or a life altering accident our lives are tossed into an abyss, a lost soul solstice where time seems to standstill and meaning is out of reach. Surprised, confused and full of questions starting with "why??" Astonishment is defined as something unexpected which produces an emotional state. We shake our heads and proclaim......

"I don't believe it......."



"Is this really true?"



"I'm so surprised that this happened."



"Why??"



These statements are reiterated whether the event is lottery winning amazing or life altering devastating. Both are bewildering. Both are transformative. One is a feeling of experiencing a miracle. The other is a feeling of experiencing a sense of being lost. Our grounding is altered by both.

A few years ago, I had the pleasure of a meeting a woman whose son was born with severe disabilities. His level of functioning was comparable to an infant. There were no explanations as to why this happened. It just did. Her son, who required 24 hour care, who was completely dependent on his family, especially his mother whose life changed from career person to full time caregiver right at the moment of his birth, had just turned 18.

For all of those years, the Mom rarely left his presence because his needs were unique and complicated. With no extended family in the area and for some reason no real assistance from community social services, it fell on this boy's parents to figure it out. His Dad remained the primary breadwinner. His Mom remained home. His little sister who was able bodied and full of dance steps never knew family life like her friends. As much as her parents tried to accomodate, and attempt to find the attention balance one strives for when siblings are involved, the little sister's needs sometimes had to take a backseat. Always.

When this young man was well enough, he could attend school with a full time caregiver though rarely had there been a week when he was able to attend for 5 days in a row. Hospitalizations were too numerous to count, but a few were made more memorable when this family clung onto the ledge of hope wondering if he was going to survive. As I listened to the stories, the horrors and stress of ongoing medical interventions, of never ending advocating......of sleepless nights when their son was awake for days on end, a habit which continues to this day...... I wondered how a family comes to terms with such a burden.

I've wondered this throughout my career.........

I spent two hours with this woman in her living room listening to her family's story of how the birth and life of her son impacts every component of their story. I was there to complete a social/home assessment so that I could write up their application for disability certification and consequent social assistance for her son who qualified when her turned 18.

Her son at the time was sound asleep, and not stirring at all. He had been awake for days and had just fallen asleep for the first time. This is the norm for this family. It turned out to be good timing on my part because it gave the mom freedom to spill her fatigue, her worries, and to share with me how she and her husband went from astonishment and feeling utterly lost to a sense of gratitude and calm acceptance to how their lives are unfolding.

They have had 18 years to process it all.

And yet, I wondered if by telling me her story she was still trying to convince herself that there was much to be grateful for. I mean, this woman was trapped.....that's how I perceived it. She had no freedom. The very idea of going to the hairdressers or to the YMCA for a workout was a monumental task. She has had to compromise, give up, accomodate, adjust, assimilate throughout every waking and sleeping moment of motherhood.

After she finished sharing and I finished asking questions.....she asked me if I wanted to meet her son, assuring me that he wouldn't wake up if we went into his bedroom. He was sleeping that deeply. So, we went into his darkened room and i went right over to the large crib like bed where he sleep soundly. I leaned in and held his fingers while he was relaxed in his dreams. Then, I turned my focus back to his Mom who was watching me and her son.

What I saw on her face was my answer to how someone overcomes the feeling of burden in a situation like that.

Love. Unconditional love. Untarnished, uncomplicated, unending love.

What I witnessed made my knees buckle at the intensity of the love melting on this woman's face. When she witnessed her son, she witnessed beauty in a way that felt spiritual. Never before or after have I been privy to this wonderful moment.

Now, after reading this quote, I recognize what I witnessed as astonishment transformed from a shadow of lost to welcoming the mystery of the adventure as a miracle. This woman had figured it out.

And I am a little closer to understanding.

Thank you Katie for sending me the quote.

gales and sails

“One ship drives east, and another west.

With the self-same winds that blow:

‘Tis the set of the sails

And not the gales,

Which decides the way we go.

Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate,

As they voyage along through life;

‘Tis the will of the soul

That decides its goal,

And not the calm or the strife”

Ella Wheeler Wilcox