As if anybody knows what I was talking about.......

Paul Simon is singing in the background and it makes me feel like dancing with diamonds on the soles of my shoes. I'll never forget the first time I saw him sing this on Saturday Night Live with Ladysmith Black Mambazo. It was vibrantly unique.........the melody and the merging of cultures. It's one of those songs I can't get enough of........it fills my office as I compose.


Today, these greyish walls, which I have adorned with inspirational signs of course, feel more expansive because I have been playing toe tapping dance wannabe tunes. I filled the air with the big band sounds of Frank Sinatra belting out Gershwin and Sammy Cahn classics........

The way you wear your hat
the way you sip your tea
The memory of all that.........
No, no - they can't take that away from me.

Or.............

Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away..............
Once I get you there where the air is rarified
We'll just glide, starry eyed
Once I get you there I'll be holding you so near
You may hear angels cheer cause we're together...........

You humming yet???

I've sung to the Proclaimers........."I'm on my way".............. to Lyle Lovett....."That's right! You're not from Texas" ............to the Replacements singing about a "Waitress in the Sky".......

These songs make me feel more balanced..........and help me write the sad stories I have had to focus on today. It's a strange thing, to be writing about sadness and disabling illnesses all the while listening to Sinatra or Simon............. but it helps me detach enough to find the words needed to compose my client's stories. These clients are applying for disability pensions, which means more money, which means more attention from social services.

A large portion of my day involves meeting with clients in their homes or in my office to listen to them relive their painful history. Afterwards, my role is to write up a report that accompanies the medical information provided by their doctors. Often the medical information is scantily one dimensional......a diagnosis attached to a couple of words. It's my responsibility to draw a picture for the review board that fills in the life with breath. Today I have relived tales of schizophrenia, autism and chronic alcoholism. I've written about drug addiction, attention deficit disorder, depression and Hep C. The human beings who shared with me await........ and as much as I wanted to write their personal pain as soon as I had met with them, I needed time to process, to figure out how I would pass it on.......how I could breathe air into their application. It's the only way I know how to do it right. It's the only way I know how to portray their realism.


The Medical Review Board who review the reports, who have the last say on whether or not a person's suffering is bad enough to grant them a permanent pension, is comprised of medical professionals who are brilliant in their field I'm sure. They have their own practises and their own patients as well as their role on the Board. They see patients in their offices. No house calls. No chance to experience knowing the broader picture.

Poverty at a distance

Illness in a formal environment

Miles from the gutter

Miles from the rural disconnect of have nots.

It is my responsibility to describe a whole human being and the life they live. They need to know. The review board may not want to know, but personally I don't care about that because I believe that lives are not comprised of simple facts. Life is interconnective understanding. It is knowing your neighbours. Its about realizing and recognizing and reaching out to help others. So, I write in 3 dimensional multi-sensory description.......the sights, sounds and the smells.

Real.

I am capable of being present during the initial interview......... openly compassionate, fully attentive, interactive, encouraging as they learn to trust me. I often hear truly horrendous confessions from deep wounds. The full impact, however, of what I have heard doesn't hit me until I begin to write. Words make it finitely real. It's on paper permanently. Before that I can compartmentalize the individual's story for safe keeping with a sense of fiction possibly? I don't know..........I'm trying to figure it out. What I do know is that when I have to spend a day or two writing these reports, I am more emotionally spent than the original meeting.

So..........to stay balanced................to stay connected to my other "selves" I listen to music I would like to be dancing to, I venture outside to take deep fresh air breaths and enjoy the view of my downtown, I walk at lunch and interact with life. I write my thoughts............and I share them with you...................

As if anyone really knows what I was talking about........

Time to head home. I'm knackered.

signs

Our world is littered with signs......traffic, neon, billboards, storefronts, streets, artwork. Some give you directions, some offer a warning, some provide information. Some are just universal symbols that we are conditioned to understand. In theory, I could find myself in any airport around the world and I would have no trouble finding the woman's washroom, or an exit. We are constantly fighting a barrage.

Signs can encourage, demand, ask, shout, and point you to the right exit....or the wrong exit if you're not paying attention. That's what signs do............they trigger you to pay attention. We are inudated with sign messages.........buy, sell, trade, give, take, yield, stop, payhere, READ ME!!!

They all become a bit of a blur in our minds. We can walk down a familiar street and literally not register most sign messages. We can drive along taking in the speed limit, the stop and yield signs, but if we don't will ourselves to remain alert, we robotically obey them. It really has to be something provocative on a billboard to catch our undivided attention or we remain in a lemming state.......just following along, filtering out the noise. Too much of something overstimulates and then has the opposite effect.

It seems to me this Christmas season that one of the most predominant items in the stores, whether its at Dollarama, a high falootin' boutique, the local hardward store, or at a local craft fair you will find fancy scripty signs to hang up on the walls of your home. I see them everywhere. And everytime I spot them, I get annoyed. I have no idea if anyone else reacts to them the way I do...... these signs are supposed to be inspirational. They glow with messages like:

Dream

Hope

Believe

Relax

Dare

Live, love, laugh

Dance

Now that we're in the middle of the Christmas season, one tends to see freshly tole painted barn wood with lovely old fashioned fonts that say:

Rejoice

Ho Ho Ho

'Tis the Season

Blessings

So.................why is it that EVERY time I read one of these signs, my mind adds the word "dammit" to the statement?

Dream Dammit!

Dare Dammit!

Dance Dammit!

Ho Ho Ho Dammit!

Rejoice RIGHT NOW DAMMIT!

Believe or wither away in hopelessness dammit!

Could it be that these signs are dripping in insincerity? It boggles my mind. I guess I've never been very good at taking orders. I'm just one subversive little shit disturber who balks at control tactics.......... I'd never be a good soldier. And................... I can live with that.

Yesterday, I found myself in line to pay for my purchases. Unfortunately, I chose the inspirational yet demanding sign aisle..... Once again, I was triggered by the cutesy-ness curly scripted signs of false hope. Instead of dismissing it, I started thinking about how I could turn this little cottage industry on it's ear by creating another line of slogans to live by. My subversive mind kicked in as I formulated a plan, as I considered various options for effectively absurd signage in one's home.

The bedroom......................a few options............

Hibernate

Procreate

Fornicate

dammit..........

Actually there are many signs one could post in one's bedroom........I'll leave it to your imaginations.......

The bathroom

Exfoliate

Concentrate

Toe in grate.

The dining room

Masticate

Sit up straight

Cheese tastes great

The living room

Well I guess you could post a procreate sign there if you wanted to.

Above your computer

Illustrate

Formulate

Contemplate

Gee.....................the words of wisdom are endless aren't they? I mean really, if we just littered our little worlds with signs, we wouldn't have to think at all.............we could spend all our time masticating and formulating and postulating and fornicating (is that not the best word??).........and never have to think again. Lemmings one and all............

Gee, I think it's time to put up the sign on the front door..............

Think, don't blink.................

Now......................get out there and BELIEVE dammit!!

I wonder if I could get an ACOA grant for my new little cottage industry or did Prime Minister Harper cut that milking cow too?

Ooooooooooooo..............I think I took my sarcasm vitamins for breakie today.

shame

Shame........a hollow empty pit where disgrace lives

Fed
by painful self-contempt
by the fear of humiliation
by the guilt of impulsivity
by thoughts acted out.

Shame........ugly remorse that devours goodness.

Hidden in the folds of the shadowed curtains.

Reflected in the eyes of esteem

Rinsed in bile.




Nothing makes me more distraught than feeling shameful.
It is lonelier than lonely.

a hartman moment..........for james

what are we thinking?

In Aristotilean terms, the good leader must have ethos, pathos and logos.
The ethos is the moral character, the source of his ability to persuade.
The pathos is the ability to touch feelings, to move people emotionally.
The logos has the ability to give solid reasons for an action, to move people intellectually. Mortimer Jerome Adler.

All week, I have been struck by the actions and words of our leaders, particularly in the political realm. I have been trying to understand what motivates them and why I have felt such disdain for the majority of them.........locally, nationally and internationally. So often, I find myself shaking my head, thinking "are these people in their right mind?"

It seems that there is a terrible imbalance between morality, pathos and actions. It seems to me that we the voters often get swept up by the emotionally driven words we hear our leaders spew, and vote them in hoping that there is the morality and action behind the feeling words. It's like a house of cards though isn't it? We get sucked in by the eloquence and then it's too late. We're stuck with a leader who obviously is feeding their own egos.........their own desire to stand up on top of the hill surrounded by adoration and false fawning, which continues to nurture their false integrity.

When things go wrong...........as in the Iraq war, there seems to be no one with a spine who will own up to it. All we are left with is the reassuring words of George Bush.....

"It's bad."

After I clutch my stomach and hold down the urge to vomit, all I can think of to reply is, "duh!"

As of this morning, I can't think of one example of a balanced effective leader. What do we do now? We voted these people in. How do we find our way out?

serendiptous encounters

"An Angel can illumine the thought and mind of man
by strengthening the power of vision,
and by bringing within his reach some truth
which the Angel himself contemplates."

St. Thomas Aquinas, The Bliss of the Way.

This morning, I tripped over serendipity in the local Irving gas station/convenience store of all places. I arrived there to quickly grab a tea and a morning paper but ended up having a long heart to heart with the woman who gets up early to make the muffins. Usually friendly and upbeat.....often eccentrically outgoing in a charming way, she is the reason why I continue to stop at this locale. Often, she greets me with a "hideee ho hello" and a compliment on what I'm wearing or something while offering me a warm banana muffin for the road.

Our encounters are usually short and sweet but exhuberant...... to a point where some of the introverts who work with her visibly cringe with embarrassment. I love her zip because it brings the zip out in me. This morning, however, I caught her uncharacteristically ebbing on low leaning on the counter where the coffee machine and subsequent hot water tap is located, chatting quietly with one of her colleagues. She looked worn out. After slogging away for hours before anyone was awake, her apron was dusted in icing sugar and bits of baking My intention was not to disturb her so I quietly went to fill my cup with hot water only to find that it wouldn't work while the machine was making the big pots of coffee. It needed time to heat up again. This is when she noticed me and of course tried to help. When it was apparent that time was all it needed, I dropped my fasttrack plans to go with the flow.

I'm glad I did........how often do we have a chance to by-pass all chatty fillers and go straight to the heart...........to what matters?

She asked me where I worked. I told her that I worked with people on social assistance.

"Oh my! That would be difficult. But, I look at your face and I know you're a kind soul. I think you'd be good at it," she said and then she hugged me.

"Thank you. I love working with them. It's harder at this time of year because emotions around Christmas get complicated and sadder. I don't know how most of them manage," I replied.

"Funny, I was just talking to (her colleague) about that. My husband left me with 3 young children in 1978. We had nothing........absolutely nothing. I hated Christmas for many many years because I had nothing to give. It was horrible........and I was so lonely. I've had to work so hard. But I love Christmas now. My kids have grown up and they're happy. They are all settled in their lives and it makes me proud to know that I was able to give them the love they needed."

All of a sudden, the store became cozy, both of us oblivious to the flurry around us. We became engaged in one another's lives. We chatted about the difficulties of trying to get out of the cycle of poverty, about how the "system" keeps people down and out, about the homeless, the hungry and the people who aren't acknowledged.

Her word...........acknowledged..................she told me that the worst thing in the world is not hunger...........it's living a life where you aren't acknowledged. Then, she told me her story with big brimming tears in her eyes.

She grew up in a family of 8. During her whole life, all she wanted was her father to say her name out loud. Instead, she was the brunt of unending abuse..........verbally and physically. The family struggled financially and spiritually. It wasn't until her father was dying of lung cancer that she heard him say her name out loud. This angry vicious man softened after he introduced his daughter Diana to his nurse........ acknowledgement led to forgiveness. Diana forgave her father. They found closeness. Diana found God.

Since then, she has had two "visions." Her purpose is ahead of her, she believes. In August when she reaches 65 and can retire, her plan is to follow her vision. She wants to go to Africa to work through her church. A new life. A strong purpose. Diana intends to share her love. She wants to pass on the wisdom she learned as an abused child...............she wants to be a part of acknowledging the forgotten. When she spoke of her plans, she lit up like the biggest, brightest Christmas tree..................sparkle in her teary eyes...........hope in her voice.

Words of encouragement.........reinforcing her dreams.............I then told her about my writing.............that just last week I wrote about the need to be acknowledged............to feel significant. I told her so that she would know I understood and how strangely serendipitous it was that we were having this conversation while I waited for the water to heat up. She hugged me again in agreement, and asked if I would bring her a copy of my writing since she doesn't have access to a computer.

"God is doing this you know," she said. "God knew we needed to connect today. You're just what I needed........" she said. ANOTHER HUG!!

When the water finally heated up, I filled my cup (which of course felt like it was already overflowing........) and went to pay for my tea, and newspaper. Diana's colleague waved at me with a smile...................they werent going to let me pay. I bounced off to work, a little late but elated.

An hour later, I returned with a few things for Diana to read........... her apron had been dusted off. Her colour was back in her cheeks. She met me right at the door with her smiling eyes and her "hideee ho hello...."

"Oh, I knew you'd come back! I CAN'T WAIT to read your stories..........you're just what I needed. God did this didn't He?"

Yes, Diana........................He gave me a gift..............He sent me a message through the muffin lady. An angel with a new vision....... with acknowledgement to share.

A free tea, three hugs and a moment of grace. Not bad for the start of a day. Sometimes it's best to be late for work. I highly recommend it every now and then.

gift of nature

"The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way.

Some see Nature all ridicule and deformity,

and some scarce see Nature at all.

But to the eyes of the man of imagination,

Nature is Imagination itself."

William Blake

Snow arrived yesterday turning the trees into a glistening display of winter's glory. Faerie magic to feed the imagination, to lure thoughts inward, to nuture cravings for firelight intimate moments, all set to jazzy bluesy tunes.

merlot, claret, rich hickory and pine........earthy aromas

Winter is the time for darkness and moonlight... to speculate, contemplate and formulate. It may appear that life has slowed down, but under the cover of darkness, under the cover of snow lashes lurks a merging of creative souls searching for the mystic.

Nature is Imagination.

interwoven lives

"Your life and my life flow into each other as wave flows into wave and unless there is peace and joy and freedom for you, there can be no real peace or joy or freedom for me. To see reality -- not as we expect it to be but as it is -- is to see that unless we live for each other and in and through each other, we do not really live satisfactorily; that there can really be life only where there really is, in just this sense, love."

Frederick Buechner.

Tonight was spent wrapping presents that are taking a journey with my husband on Wednesday to Ontario. I love wrapping presents, adorning them with big bows, writing the gift card to attach to them. Each time I cut the paper to fit the box I end up thinking about the person who will be opening it on Christmas Day. Wondering about how they are doing, wondering if they will like the gift. Our lives are intertwined. We may not all be together, but we will share each other's joy and peace and pain.

I am blessed to have many people, both family and friends in my life, all of whom are uniquely special. I am blessed to meet new people everyday who touch me with their stories. This year has been especially abundant (oh there's that word again!!) because of the old cherished friends from camp who have returned to my world and of the new ones whose friendships are just blossoming. We are all intertwined. I think of them often.

Certain individuals somehow sneak up under my skin. Sometimes it's apparent why this is so........our lives are intertwined daily. But, there are other special times when an individual takes me by surprise..........like Buechner so eloquently writes..."as wave flows unto wave"...........and wraps a bow around my life. One never knows when a new kindred will enter your life, because often we don't know how or why it happens. It's just one of those things that seem to have a bigger meaning which will forever remain God's secret. And yet, I'm flooded with questions for a new kindred in order to learn their stories, to know their colour palette and how their expreiences have impacted their life.......I want to know so I can feel the sense of wave flow.

All intertwined..........all living for and in and through each other. We are never alone.

What a relief!

where's the loofah?

I feel like I could use a whole week of Sundays. Here it is Sunday night, normally a time when I'm feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the week ahead. Instead, I find myself taking long deep breaths to try to clear a path in my busy brain which is cluttered with to do lists. I know why this has happened. I kept my head down to plough through the process of planning the Christmas Bazaar, of putting in hours of time creating craftie items (happily mind you ) and of worrying if it would be successful and all that entailed and when I lifted my head this morning to have a peak.....................reality hit. Ok........I also clocked in many hours of Liberal Leadership convention TV watching this weekend too as a good upstanding member of political junkie anonymous ........

Balance had taken a direct hit. Other stuff had been neglected. It's catch up time.

Off in the distance I could hear those pesky Carollers singing Hark songs........uh oh...... they aren't in the distance........... they're standing at the foot of my driveway and I'm not ready to greet them.

It's not just the fact that Christmas is only a couple of weeks away, I'm playing catch up in all areas of my life. It feels like I have adopted the mantra................ "I have to get that done." The more I hear myself repeating it, the more I want to take a nose dive under the covers to surrender my responsibilities.

Today would've been better witnessed from the darkness of the shades because it was one of those days that not only flew by before I could harness it, it was one of those days when one little task took up way more time than it was supposed to.

Take the light hanging expedition. This morning after the search for the outdoor Christmas lights went quite easily, I found myself standing in a crowded aisle at Canadian Tire trying to figure out which boxes contained the string of lights I needed to replace ALL of the strings from last year.............ALL of them somehow took a beating sitting in the basement in a box over the summer!! How does that happen????? Now, you'd think that it would be a REALLY easy task, but of course it wasn't because since the last time I had to purchase a string of outdoor lights, some crazy cat went bonkers creating nets, ribbons, drippy, neon iciciles of lights that flash, sing and hum. An hour later, after standing in line at the cash twice because the first time I picked up the wrong boxes (which is when I learned of "ribbons" of lights) I was throwing them into the back of the van and heading home, having spent more than I wanted with the receipt in my hand just in case they didn't light up..........just in case the lights sang in mickey mouse acappella.

Luckily, they worked.......... until I stretched the wires while attaching them to a bush and split the plastic holder of one teeny tiny light. In one rushed moment the lights went out. Swearing ensued. I unpacked the second set of lights. Deep breaths to shove the mantra out of my head and I was able to adorn the bush. 10 minutes later as I had moved onto the garland wrapping on the side porch, I heard my husband who had been up the ladder wiring the heavy wreath to the front of the house, inform me that he had inadvertently stepped on one of the teeny tiny lights busting the second string. It was now 3pm. Dinner prep was no where to be found, and there were no signs of inside the house chores being completed.,.... and oh............."Mom, guess what? I forgot I have a dress rehearsal for the Christmas play at 4 o'clock."

fa la la la la la la la la........frig.

There are days when tasks are accomplished lickety split. Then there are days, normally when you want and need lickety split when nothing works out right. I don't need a week of Sundays. I need a month of them. Not to get things done..............more to cleanse and soak and take a big loofah and scrub away the unnecessary extras that seem to pile up on top of the important things. I need a month of Saturdays to get things done. However, since denial doesn't get things done and since I don't have a staff of personal assistants to delegate to, the under-the-duvet method isn't going to cut it. Tomorrow is Monday and I best be ready with a gameplan.

Before that happens?...........................I'm off to turn on the taps to scalding hot, fill the tub with a million bubbles of wafting aromas and slip into closed eye silence. Deep breaths will slowly clear my head as will a cleansing moment of quiet contemplation. That's how I like my Sundays. Peaceful, contemplative, refreshing and reconnecting soaks almost always brings clarity....almost always removes the pushy mantras and replaces it with soothing sounds of violins.

PS. For some reason I haven't been interested in writing political editorial posts, but it doesn't mean I haven't been paying attention. :) My one comment tonight? Stephen Harper may be initially thinking that he's got it made with the Liberal's choice of Stephane Dion as leader. He better shake that little thought out of his head. Harper's in for a good political fight. Dion is impressive. Sustainability............harkens. I will be listening with interest.

Greer

Today was a wonderfully productive social day. The 35th annual Christmas Bazaar at my son's school went off without a hitch. Attended by scores of people, from families with kiddies in the school now to alumni to neighbourhood folks to a few local politicians who rolled up their sleeves and work alongside us, the place was hopping with energy. All of the classrooms were set up with kid activities.........fish pond, golf putt, cake walk.........the usual fun stuff, and the gym held more baked goods than I have ever seen along with the baskets of abundance I put together, dozens of items to be raffled off, and craftie items made with love.

The Christmas Bazaar is such fun. I love being right in the middle of it, which is exactly where you would've found me today. My table where I sold raffle tickets for the baskets was located smack dab in the middle of the flurry. This allowed me the opportunity to see it all and welcome everyone who made a point of attending. Lots of conversations and catching up as well as introductions and new chats. The spirit of community and the spirit of Christmas combined into one. Just like it should be.

So here I am sitting late in the evening satisfied with the accomplishment, reviewing the many encounters and the one that is the most clear..........the one that makes me smile the most was more of an observation than an encounter. It has to do with a little girl named Greer whom I hadn't seen in a long while. She's growing up.

Greer is 8 years old and I've known her since she was a baby. She's tiny in stature which makes her look younger than she is, but she carries herself like a grown up 8 year old. I watched her skipping through the sea of people independently with her best friend while her parents stood by me to catch up through a quick chat. With her hot pink shirt on, she was easy to spot...........so I watched her interact with her classmates, fitting in, smiling, and projecting a sense of belonging and security to her surroundings.

Greer amazes me. Up until recently she would've marched herself over to me to ask me where my husband was (her favourite person in the whole world..........I really don't count...........) and then where my son was (her second favourite person in the whole world) and then she would stick close by. But she's beyond that now and as much as I miss being a touchpoint for her, I'm so pleased to see how well she has blended in. Since she was born with Down's Syndrome, this is a very big accomplishment. So is reading at her grade level, which she can..........so is adding double digits numbers, which she has learned this year. She has the ability to ride a horse without a guide, and knows how to tap dance. She can swim like a fish.........and ride a bike fast. Today, I learned that she has figured out how to make friends......real girlfriends....... I know now that she fits right in with the 8 year olds in her class. That warms my heart.

She's a determined little fighter, our Greer. Always clear about what she wants and doesn't want...............this temperment of hers allowed her to survive infancy. Born with heart ailments, she had to endure life threatening surgery which had to be delayed a couple of times while she struggled through one respiratory infection after another. Though she still fights those, she conquered her heart condition. There's nothing wrong with it anymore................

Greer's determination and joy of life........her smiles and her demeanour........her thirst for books and knowledge...........are amazing all the adults in her life. Her doctor is blown away by her development along with her teachers, her family, and friends like me. We have a tendancy to expect less from individuals with disabilities. When I was studying at university about Down's Syndrome, I was taught that their IQ fell always within a 10 point range, below average along with other misguided parameters. They could never learn to read, understand the concept of time, get math. Time and again, I have learned the information I was fed about exceptionalities is just plain wrong. Greer is a living breathing acting running jumping smiling joyful smart sassy friendly determined focused example of that.

Today was a great day because I watched a little girl in a hot pink shirt take her place amongst the crowd. She's a beautiful member of our community and I love her dearly. She makes my community world shine brighter. I can't wait to watch her continue to blossom.

significance

"The greater the feeling of inferiority that has been experienced, the more powerful is the urge to conquest and the more violent the emotional agitation." Alfred Adler

I was given many gifts this week. They all seemed to arrive in moments when I wasn't expecting them. Wrapped in words and actions and tied with big shiny bows of clarity, these gifts offered up opportunities to shift my perception.......

If one is ready.......if one is receptive.........new learning adds new sparkle to old learning, which in turn shifts one's thinking. If one's thinking is shifted, our feelings are stirred. If our feelings are stirred in a different direction, we act in a changed manner. Special new learning which produces "aha" moments when you realize it impacts you personally kickstarts this cognitive chain reaction with more gusto. You feel it with a level of intensity that startles the spirit. And if the spirit is moved? The gift of learning shimmers with meaning.

So what did I learn? I was given the gift of seeing the meaning behind the word significance. THEN................. I was offered an opportunity to feel significant. It energized me. It brought inner calm back to my spirit.

meaning
importance
love
belonging
security
vital
matter
relevance
signficance.

Alfred Adler, whose theories and perspective have often impacted my personal approach to counselling and to understanding human development believed that one's perceptions and interpretations of the world around them guide their behaviour. If one is feeling inferior, one will act in a manner he believes will lead to a sense of completeness. Consequently, all of our behaviour is guided by the goal to seek a sense of worth........to seek out significance.

The magnificence of feeling significant.

This fall, I have struggled to find my way in my world of work. After months of not being given any information about the change in my responsibilities, of not being asked for my opinion or to share my ideas, of being moved away from the women whom I have worked with for many years and then of not even being acknowledged after I was moved, my spirit sunk to a new low. As my spiritual spunk sunk, I stalled as I tried to find the words to capture how I felt.

I didn't fit.
I was odd
I was a misfit.
Where did I fit?
Do I fit anywhere?
It's fine to strive for uniqueness if one is accepted and recognized as significant. But if you're only able to feel unique and not significant than all you feel is a sense of living on the island of misfits no one cares.

I lost count of how many people asked me if I had done something wrong to have been "banished"...............that's how it looked to others..........that's how it looked to me. That's how it felt. All of a sudden, my unique attributes and my unique offerings within my world of work didn't seem to be recognized as needed. All of a sudden I felt stripped of significance. I lost my voice. I had lost my gumption.

As my perception of the situation percolated destructively, I fed it convoluted misunderstandings. I began to read the activity around me incorrectly. My intuition failed, and all of a sudden I couldn't be relied upon. I allowed my spirit to be flooded with misperceptions. All because of a sense of insignificance. It was tearfully AWFUL!! Luckily, the tides turned as they always do (though often when we are caught in the undertow, we don't feel like we'll ever get out) and I found my footing again at the same time that I found my voice. Funny how those two things go together.

My purpose is to allow others to feel a sense of significance. Having a fresh personal experience to link to adds new meaning to my purpose. Though my career path is still unclear, my significance within the department is....................abundantly clear.

The opportunity gift I was given? I was asked to tell a story about something I was proud of to a group of colleagues who were sitting in a semi-circle facing me. It was a simulation of an exercise that will be applied in our work back in our individual offices and worlds. Before I began, I had the unique perspective of facing all of them and realizing that I had a history with these people. Though we all live in different parts of the province and only really come together once a year, the sense of belonging I felt was deep. I felt secure. The story blossomed from the sense of signficance I felt.

I told them about my writing. I told them about the journey I began a little over a year ago to learn through my writing. I shared my feelings on how it has transformed me.........how it has allowed my creativity and my imagination to flow again. As I continued, they asked questions while jotting down characteristics and skills one would have to own to be able to accomplish this. After I finished talking, they were asked to share one characteristic or skill they identified with me. The positive feedback along with the genuine feeling behind their words lifted my spirits in a way that left me floating with zippy energy.

We all matter. We all need to feel significant.

Yes. I'm still a misfit......an original oddball..........but I'm a significant one. That makes all the difference. hmmmmmmmmmmmm.....maybe I'm a cracked pot who drips water on a garden of seeds. :)

Wednesday morning thoughts...........

"Don't expect a jolt.

There are no custom made plans.

Just guidance...........unrequested and unexpected."

Dr. Paul Brand

Greetings from Saint John New Brunswick. I've been attending an annual conference set up for Career Counsellors from around the province. One of the aspects I love about this little province is the bilingualism. Both english and french are spoken in sessions. Most meetings I will be attending with be a merging of the two languages.

Saint John is both ugly and beautiful at the same time. Steeped in maritime history, the buildings all have stories to tell. I've had a chance to walk along the piers and up and down the south end streets..........feeling an anonymous blending in with the people who live here. I've also had a chance to read. Away from access to a computer for a couple of days, my mind settled into "read mode" again.

The combination of reconnecting with colleagues whom I havent seen in a year, listening to (some) interesting speakers as they offer their take on life, walking in a new environment, meeting some street people by the market and reading the words of Paul Brand................I'm feeling full of new ideas to churn in my head.

And as they filter in........................I am jotting them down. Hopefully the ideas will transform into words to be posted here. Right now..............the seeds are germinating and I'm sipping tea.

Here's a tidbit that was shared yesterday.................

The money that the top 225 richest people in the world have acquired exceeds the amount that 47% of the population have acquired combined.

How can that be?

abundance, part 2.

I found a basket on my front porch.
It's empty.
It needs filling.
Though it looks like a non-descript market basket, one that you may see a neighbour carrying fresh produce in during her foray last summer to the local farmer's market, it was actually created by a woman who weaves to feed her family.



She weaves day and night.
Her young daughters weave alongside her.
Together, they receive pennies for their efforts.
Still, their efforts allow them to continue running their own business, to continue reaching for a better life.

I want to fill this basket with nourishment.
Abundantly
A bountiful collection from my community
To the woman who weaves and to her community.

A listening ear
A few bandages for the little hurts
A fiddler to play music that weeps and reels
Fingertip touch to heal the scars
Smiles, miles and miles and miles of them.
Eyes for vision and a heart to see
Candles for the dark nights
Stars for wishing upon
Fleece for warmth
Bread and wine to share
Hands to help, to rock, to reach out
Unconditional love to help mend the big hurts
And a bouquet of summer field flowers for hope.

This basket is magical..........it will expand to include all that it needs to carry. Care to put something else in it?

abundance

Sitting in my dining room and hallway of my home are fifteen market baskets heaped with goodies. Each basket has a theme. There's one packed with teddy bears of all sizes, another filled with every size candle imaginable. One has Christmas ornaments, wrapping paper and gift bags. Another is loaded with red and green items. Jolly ol' St. Nick peaks out of one and Frosty and friends smile out of another one. One "Just for Dad" and one for a whole family to delve into on a snowy winter day. They are all wrapped in clear cellophane and adorned with a big diaphanous bow. My daughter and I arranged the items in the basket and then wrapped them together.

After we completed the task, we stood back to take in the result of our fun task, the word that leapt to mind was abundance.

Why do I have 15 baskets in my home? Every year, the school that my son now attends (my daughter attended as well but is now at middle school on her way to high school next year..........how did that happen so darn quickly??) has a Christmas Bazaar. It's the one big fundraiser of the year for the school. The event is next weekend, but the preparations for it begin in early October. This is our 7th Garden Creek Christmas Bazaar and our 5th year pulling together the theme baskets for the event. They will be raffled off to raise money.

The theme baskets are only one part of the event, but definately my favourite. By next Saturday the gym will have been transformed into a happening with tables of abundance. Homemade baking, craftwork, used books, mounds of playdoh made by the Kindergarten class, a teacher's table to show off their individual talents, a whole back end of yard sale items will have accumulated. Pre-ordered wreaths and pointsettias for pick up, and a whole slew of donated items to be raffled off.......... Ralph, a community member who by day works as a minister and by night at this time of the year works as Santa in the local Mall, takes part selling popcorn and slushies will be there too. Every classroom on the main floor of the school will be set up with an activity the kids can take part in. It's a swirl of energy topping off individual efforts.

What I love about pulling together the baskets with Martha every year is the symbolism. Each item is donated by a child and their family. Each basket belongs to a class. A couple of weeks ahead of time, I send off a list of themes to the teachers. After they choose their theme, I write up a letter to be sent home with ideas to consider and with instructions that the item can be homemade or purchased for only a couple of dollars. A communal effort.

Then, the stuff just comes flying into the school. By the time Martha and I get over there to pick it up, each classroom has accumulated bags full of goodies. What amazes me every year is that rarely do I find duplicates. What I do find is that most items I mention in their letters are represented. It amazes me every year.

The reaction to the end product is especially rewarding due to the sense of community they represent. We all do our part and no one spends more than a couple of dollars for the effort. Together, we create abundance which in turn will benefit the children at this school.

Now, if we could just take that concept and reach out in a small way to the larger community think of the goodwill we could spread.

Abundantly.......................... together.

Get Real

Lots of bloggie ideas are swimming through my head this morning all vying for attention. They will have to wait on the back burner because one particular thorn in my side needs to be pulled out.

Yesterday I spent an eternity in a boardroom in the bowels of an office building sitting through a "strategic planning" exercise in futility. The potential for amazing connections went untapped as we were force fed a theoretical process of "mapping" out how we can work together. Meanwhile, as the facilitator who is obviously a wounded individual who needed to seek affirmation by describing ALL that she has personally done for the betterment of our government department instead of allowing the bright lights around the table to share their frontline wisdom and stories, I could feel my blood pressure rise and my "jiggy" feet start scrambling under the table. It took all of my energy not to bolt.

Yes, I was triggered on many levels and thought I was alone in reacting this way until mid-way though the meeting when we were able to step outside for a break. Then, I heard others frustrations. It was good to know I wasn't alone. Anger and frustration filled the outside air with gusto.

Selfishly I strongly felt that I should be the one up their leading this meeting. Instead, the powers that be decided it would be best to bring someone in with a background in organization design who works at a higher planning level in our government department so that I could take part in the conversation with my peers. That backfired. The only add-ons I wanted to contribute were four letter words. So perhaps it was a "good thing" that the facilitator had her own agenda and decided to TALK rather than facilitate so that I didn't go off the deep end of expletives...........Geesh. That would only have led to trouble and humble apologies on my guilty part.

For the first time ever, which I find unbelievable in itself, a group of us.........all of whom work in some capacity with families............all of whom work under the auspices of "prevention" have been given an opportunity to develop an alliance. We all work under different divisions and supervisors within our department.........social services, housing, social assistance. Our offices are spread out under different roofs. And our computer systems are not linked. So, for example, I may be working with an individual counselling them and trying to help them take a step forward into the world of work at the same time as another frontline worker may be dealing with this same individual and his family because they have major issues with their skills as parents. It's the classic example of not knowing what both hands are up to. It is classic bureaucracy muddled....... drives me batty.

Some of the staff work in a community development capacity. A few work with kids in the school system. One woman provides wonderful programs for parents in the community. There was a home economist, an early childhood intervention worker, a few Case Managers, a woman who inspects and licenses daycares and who arranges for interventions for children in need. One dynamic friend and colleague is doing amazing things with the families in public housing communities. We were all brought together to meet one another and to learn about each other's programs and talents. It's an impressive group of women (yes all women) who share a compassion for the frontlines, who WANT to band together to provide our programs and services in a more cohesive manner.

Yesterday was our third time meeting together this fall. The first two meetings were productive in that we shared parts of ourselves. Everyone had a chance to offer a glimpse of what they are doing and who they are. It was exciting, informative and helpful. The sharing and chatting automatically led to informal connections. Our personalities along with our emotional dedication to working with people shone through. What we needed yesterday was not a mind numbing pre-designed template to fit into. What we needed was a forum.............a FORUM...........to answer a few questions and most importantly to build the trust.

What do we need so that we can feel connected? How can we forge a "team" of compassionate individuals who are all doing good work but feeling like they are all alone in their quest to help families under the umbrella of prevention. How can we move out of always "reacting" to crises and situations to prevention. If I meet with a person in need...........how can I arranged to get all the skilled frontliners who can help them together........with the client in the lead.........with the client feeling supported? Everyone around the table had the answers. Except, whenever anyone stepped out of the template box to offer one, the facilitator promptly lashed out to give a lecture on the importance of process before arriving to the end product. It was an "I know best" attitude coupled with the message that one must suffer to be rewarded or some such twisted thing.

Can you see why I wanted to bark bark bark???

It was a classic Transactional Analysis situation.......................Facilitator acting as "parent" and participants reacting like "children".........or wanting to. Grrrrr............

Be patient..........I say to myself. Now that we have met..........now that we know one another a little bit, we will find a way to pull our talents together. It will happen because we all want it to. Our philosophies are the same and our hearts are in the same place. We are the people who see and experience "real" situations with the clients........and want to make a difference. We will make it turn from some theoretical mapping template bullshit process to real connections. However, before that will happen we have to meet AGAIN because us bad little kiddies talked too much and didn't finish the exercise in futility.

Shaking my head.............seeing the absurdity.................hoping the facilitator somehow gets her own needs met.

connections

Dance, then, wherever you may be

For I am the Lord of the Dance said he

And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be

And I'll lead you all in the Dance said He.

I woke up this morning with this song playing in my head. Do you wake up with a tune? Sometimes it leads my day. Sometimes it leads my writing. Today, it will lead both.

Yesterday, I spent the early part of the afternoon with a young woman of 23. She was referred to me after her initial intake interview and registration for social assistance because her story was complicated and her needs are many. Though the reason for the referral is typical, the individuals I have the honour of meeting are all unique. I love that. It's what drives my desire to stay in the frontlines................I get to meet the most interesting unique people and learn a little of their mystery.

To learn to dance with another.

Everyday. Uniqueness. Everyday. Newness.

Like all connections, we began our dance to find the common ground. It doesn't matter who you are connecting with safe footing is where to start, especially if the dance floor is uneven where one is a client and the other is initially perceived as authority and middle aged.

At first the conversation may lead to a couple of missteps, as was the case today. She was nervous and I was trying to figure out why she was referred to me.

So we started with the soft shoe..........

Leading the way, I explained who I was and asked her to share a bit of who she was. Smiling with my eyes........showing that I'm listening. Being present. It rarely takes very long if you find the right song to play. A couple of choices possibly to find the beat. If you are open to where your dance partner wants to jump in, the connection happens. As it did, she began to pour her woes, her complicated, multiplicated burdens..............way too many for anybody...........way too many for a 23 year old.

I wanted to dance all afternoon with her ............show her a couple of twirls..........and have her demonstrate her stomp. We did begin and while we talked the serious life talk, we also found time to laugh at our shared stories of our own life dances. She was delightful and willing to learn how to march on.....one toe tap at a time.

We connect through movement and song. We live through movement and song that somehow swells up from a special place inside our soul.................expressed in many emotions.

Today.............I will dance a jig.

And you?

What dance will you do?

refuge

What is home?
Is it a place where you can settle as you sink into your favourite well worn chair
Shaped to hug
Sturdy to hold your tiredness
Is it a refuge where you can let go to just be yourself as you........?
Sheltered to protect
Solid to withstand joy and sorrow.
Dependable

What does your home look like?
Does it consist of soothing sensual colours
Blending and embracing you warmly
Like cold hands clasping a hot mug of tea
Does it have a face with relaxed krinkling eyes that smile
Welcoming, encouraging always............
Friendly

Is it a state of mind connected to the heart.......?
Your very own transportable, inflatable, deflatable sanctuary
defined by you
redesigned by you
Open to ruminations and reflections
Receptive to light and darkness
Able to comfort you with a flick of a thought.
Unconditional belonging

Can you go there now?


Government can provide housing. Who helps find a home? We all need home.

reflections.................

"We create institutions and policies on the basis of the way we make assumptions about us and others. We accept the fact that we will always have poor people around us. So we have had poor people around us. If we had believed that poverty is unacceptable to us, and that it should not belong to a civilized society, we would have created appropriate institutions and policies to create a poverty-free world."

Muhammad Yunus.

Time and again I listen to clients say............"I just need a break. I don't want to be on welfare."

Stuck in the welfare system. The longer they're stuck, the harder it is to get a break. Once a person is in receipt of social assistance longer than 6 months, the chances of that breakout becomes more and more bleak. Policies and the lack of any integrated approach by government and community based services perpetuate the downward spiral. Our systems have produced a culture of poverty that has become acceptable................if not acceptable than ignored.

There are many wonderful people working in the frontlines who, more often than not are mired within their own siloed policy driven systems. Networking does occur, but real sharing and real commitment to helping a person out of the ghetto that can only happen if the commitment includes working from the same philosophy is sadly and blatantly missing.

I realize that the issue of poverty it isn't so clearcut. The clientele I work with are fighting a barrage of barriers, which range from illiteracy to dilaudid addiction. Mental illness, abuse, chronic health issues, poor coping skills, learning disabilities, family dysfunction feed the poverty cycle. Recent Canadian studies have shown that clearly over 70% of clients living on social assistance are clinically depressed. Disenfranchised and disconnected from their surrounding communities, individuals living in poverty remain stuck. This is no different than any other community.

I strongly believe that finding oneself on social assistance is a symptom of an individual's life situation. There is a cause and effect to the end result of finding yourself in crisis sitting in an office having some government worker assess your financial eligibility..........to see if you qualify for social assistance.

There has to be a way out. There has to be a more positively enabling approach to fighting this hideous demon. What is the role of government? What should it be? What are the roles of community based organizations? Of business? Of the Church? Of community members? Of the individual? What should they be?

How do we start finding our way to establish a successful gameplan?

Quite simply, we humanize it. We take poverty out of the abstract sphere that it encircles, and begin to see it as a person just like you and I.


If poverty has a face, it becomes real. If it is real, our compassion will embrace it. We can then make a connection.

Muhammad Yunus began his microcredit approach to helping the poor in Bangladesh by connecting with a small group of villagers who needed a meagre couple of dollars to move out of a life of poverty. They were the faces that opened his eyes. His experience since that first transaction has offered him proof that poverty is not an option. Next month, he will be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize along with the Grameen Bank.............the microcredit institution he founded. His theory and practical approach to eradicating poverty is working.

One individual at a time..................all they need is a helping compassionate hand, and a break. Living a life stuck in poverty is totally unacceptable.

Clowns are Scary Beasties

Last week, I took part in a parent panel on the local CBC morning radio program. With a couple of other parents we discussed the fact that Ronald MacDonald of Big Mac and Supersize fame was guffawing his way through the hallways of elementary schools promoting healthy living. It was a heated and rather funny discussion that ran the gamut of opinion......from absolute disgust that such a corporate icon of fast food could be doing anything but promoting fat gobules found in McGarbage to an attempt at putting the Clown in context of all the other "healthy living" activities and new nutrition policies the school system has been implementing.

My personal feelings? I thought it wasn't a great move because of the mixed messages, but that my son got the point of the entertaining Ronald MacDonald show in his gym. According to Max, Ronald was promoting healthy living. He sarcastically told me: "Yeah, you eat a Big Mac, then you go for a run and burn it off, and then order another Big Mac and then go for a run." Ah, yes balance! Me of all people ended up being the voice of humourous reason......

Sometimes stories can take on a life of their own, especially when there are only a handful of radio stations to tune into in this fair city. On the day it aired, everywhere I went I bumped into somebody who had heard the panel and who wanted to air their own feelings. It hit some weird nerve ending. I guess the school admin offices throughout the city were inundated with phone calls from irate parents who didn't know the big goofy guy was in town. CBC received several emails, and in turn interviewed a school official to try to find out who was responsible for approving this horrendously hideous heavy handed event. Today, there is an opinion piece in the local paper that referred to a comment I made on air. This morning, the Minister of Education, from his cellphone while standing in the Toronto Airport waiting for his flight to China to promote New Brunswicks "FABULOUS" school system, announced that Ronald MacDonald will from here on in be banned from our elementary schools. The news made national headlines.

Read the story for yourself

Thank God for small miracles......................we have saved our children from the artery clogging calamity caused by too many chicken lips.........er I mean nuggets.

I think people have too much time on their hands to really care about more important issues. I also think that the ire shown indicates that parents don't realize how savy our children our. WE underestimate their ability to read a situation realistically. We also think we can "save" and "protect" them from the evils of advertising as well as anything that could wreak havoc on their tender psyches. How will kids ever learn to critically think if we protect them from controversy? Get real!!

ruminations.........

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God; your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Nelson Mandela, Inaugural speech, 1994

Well..........why is this so? Why are we so afraid of our own light? Is it because we think we would have to step up to the plate, expected to hit a homerun every time? Is it because we have tried to shine and have been told to tone it down? Is it because it goes against the lessons we were taught to be humble and non-assuming? Are we a bunch of chickens?
How was it that the world never forgot Mandela, like we have many others who have been unjustly imprisoned? Could it be that he lived these words, breathing in the meaning every moment he was behind bars? His light shone through the fortified walls. We felt his strength. His light allowed him to overcome his fear and suffering in order to be able to walk away free............torch held high.