Atop the Lord Beaverbrook Hotel, October 2007

Today I stood with the crowd at the cenotaph which sits majestically between the beautiful Christchurch Cathedral in downtown Fredericton and the Saint John River.

Remembering

Listening

Acknowledging

Trying to feel what it must've been like

How it must've felt.

What is must feel like now

As we stood together in silence,

the trumpet sound still resonating in our collectivity

I looked over at the big willow tree by the side of the river

Its remaining leaves and branches swaying in the brisk November wind.

It seemed to have it's own rhythm, unfettered by the power of the wind.

It made me think differently of the blustery seasonal wind, which often makes us cold and uncomfortable. It can feel overpowering and in charge. However, instead of thinking that it is a nuisance, that it can bite right through you when you havent bundled up for it's onslaught, I began realizing that perhaps the wind is more representative of freedom.

Can you imagine not being able to feel the freedom of the wind?

Can you imagine living a life where we can't have our own rhythm?

I turned my face to the biting wind as I walked away at the end of the service and quietly said thank you to the men and women who have fought for our freedom.

glass houses and all that.

"First they came for the Communists, but I was not a Communist so I did not speak out. Then they came for the Socialists and the Trade Unionists, but I was neither, so I did not speak out. Then they came for the Jews, but I was not a Jew so I did not speak out. And when they came for me, there was no one left to speak out for me.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Why don't we speak out? Is it because we don't have the ability to recognize the labels someone may carry as simply window dressing and we don't take the time to see that someone as a human being who lives and breathes exactly like ourselves? When we don't find the path to acceptance of others, we slide down the slippery slope of passive aggressive judgement. Why is it that we all have the tendancy to take that ride? Passing judgement, especially when its done with a sleight of hand using one chosen label can be downright nasty.

There are several coined terms that when used have the split second ability to register a judgement. It's like if you believe in the concept or term, you are on the side of who is living the right way, and if you don't fit the concept or believe in the definition of it, you are tossed aside and dismissed. Like the Communist whom they came for. Politically correct academics surf this wave. Environmentalists ride this smart car. Any group or individual who embraces a specific political, religious, philosophical or psychological theory with a closed mind to other's opionions or belief systems has the propensity to take a ride down that icy slide towards judgement. And it is almost always done with malice.




I'm not saying that we need to throw away all that we believe in. Of course not. Our beliefs and values act as the foundation for how we live our lives. They are the signposts we continuously seek in order to make decisions, to find the direction we decide to take. What I am saying is that just because we live our own life in one way doesnt mean we have the market cornered on what is right, or what is approved of. In fact, if we lean towards believing that we are completely and utterly RIGHT in our beliefs and values, we also are dismissing any opportunity for discourse and contemplation on perhaps living another way.





Impressions garnered by observing someone who doesnt seem to fit the mold can easily lead one astray when it comes to understanding or recognizing the belief system of another. For example, I hardly seem to fit the mold of a right wing leaning individual. In fact just last week, a colleague, whom I've only known for a short time was dumbfounded when I started talking about my role in Brian McDonald's campaign. His response to me? "I had you pegged for a bleeding heart NDP type. You come across as wanting to save the world."





Well, of course I want to save the world. Doesn't everyone?? This reaction is not new to me, so I was prepared for it. "Conservatives don't have hearts? You think the Socialists have the market cornered on compassion? Of course not. I may want to save the world, but I'm going to teach people HOW to fish along the way." He laughed.





My heart will never bleed to death. It would be useless then, now wouldn't it?




We cling to our beliefs like a liferaft and by doing so, we embrace the blindness we have of others. We passively and aggressively dismiss others by seeing them as their labels and not as other human beings who are living their lives the best they are capable of living them. They may be complete fuck ups. They may have made horrendous decisions thereby affecting how their lives unfold. Their beliefs and values may be utterly different than what you believe and value. Who cares? For crying out loud, can we strive to remember that we are all made from the same fabric?



The other night, the term Family Values took centre stage and played a key role in the outcome of the evening. Family Values? It conjures up visions of SNL's Church Lady.....remember her?? "How Conveeeeeeeeeeeenient................" was her response to something she considered reeking in sin. Just her way of saying the line spoke volumes while spanking the world with her beliefs.


Family Values...............I'm sure the term has been around for a long time, but it was re-introduced and slammed into our collective conscience by none other than Dan Quayle when he took on a TV character named Murphy Brown because she didn't represent family values. Remember that insane hype?? We see and hear it predominantly in American politics. GW has surrounded himself in family values types.



Just the other day, I was reading Dustin's new blog, ON the Margins and read a term I had never seen before, though I knew exactly what it meant........"Values Voters............" the same as someone who believes in the made up list of family values. (Oct 31rst post)



Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.............I guess you could call me a Value Village Voter since I have shopped there........but a values voter??

You're either a values voter or not. You either believe in the list of evangelically based rules which make up the profile of a values voter, or you are going straight to hell. Now, I probably LOOK like a person who believes in family values. I am a wife and mother. I've been married for 20 years. I believe in God. I take my vitamins. I cook the dinners around here. My family comes first. I will do anything to protect and support them. Then things get hazy...........

Why?



Because I believe in equality for women. I am a strong feminist who shares the responsibilities of my family life with my husband. He owns the vacuums in this house! We split the work down the middle. We both work full time outside of the home. We both believe in pro-choice, pro hockey and promoting diversity. There is no head of this household because we have equal footing. Our family consists of people whom we are biologically related to, but also to many friends whom we would do anything to protect them, just like we were biologically related to them. We are community members who try to be open to other's life choices and expect others to respect ours. We nutured our daughter the same way we nurture our son by sharing and teaching the same core values and beliefs as well as promoting critical thinking and individual rights.



So, according to the working definition of family values, I'm going straight to hell. I havent broken any of the 10 commandments, but I am still a sinner because I believe in free will, equality of the sexes, and pro choice. I also don't believe in corporal punishment, which is also in the working definition of what constitutes a values voter. But, my fate is predetermined. Hell it is. Will Hugh Grant be there? I think I can count on it. goodie!



SEE! See how easy it is to slide down that slippery slope? I could carry on in this vein ad nauseum and never get anywhere with someone who's strongly believes in the republican definition of family values. Defensiveness, particularly when it is wrapped in a cheap shot is always a conversation killer.



Our values are near and dear to our hearts. They should be. They aren't really negotiable, or at least they shouldn't be too easily negotiable, and this is where my thoughts began on this topic. What I observed, overheard, and was informed of during the convention was that the winning candidate decided to ride the family values ticket as a way to win the nomination. Not only that, terrible slights were levelled at a decent man who has represented our country in two wars, and who has a dream of making a difference now on the homefront. He doesn't fit the so called profile of the family values kind of person. Young, single, handsome...............and unattached individual with no children................he was an easy target for cheap shots and rumours of leading the life of a wild and crazy single guy. Enough narrow minded individuals who didn't question the source took it at face value and voted against the best contender.

I'm not naive. I am well aware of the nastiness of politics. What I abhor, and I think what many voters abhor is the selling out factor...............to want something so badly that you would change your belief system? This is why most people don't vote, or get involved in the politcal process. In order to do so, one has to have the thickest skin imaginable because stuff will be flung, no doubt about it.



Family values.............we all have family values for goodness sake. Why is this umbrella term bastardized to fit the core beliefs on a particular group of fundamentalists? I think we can blame Dan Quayle for this one.

This country's foundation is built on the love and belonging of families...............families of all different shapes and colours. Families full of human beings trying their very best to figure it all out.

We all laugh and cry and worry and sigh.
We love and long for love.

We all seek acceptance and belonging.
Underneath the layers of values, you will find a bunch of naked human beings.
Whether you like it or not............we are made from the same human being fabric.


None of us are one dimensional cut outs. Rather, we are complicated walking contradictions for the most part because we are all on the learning curve called life. Everyday, our beliefs and values are tested.........sometimes by ourselves alone. It's time to broaden the definition of what constitutes family values so that we rid this community of the hierarchical judgement that does such harm. And then, lets move forward with good honest grace.

Let us speak out for one another, not against one another.

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to.........

This time last night, I was sitting in a folding chair, my weary feet resting on another waiting to hear the results of the second ballot at local Conservative nomination convention. It had been a hard fought battle........one that stirs the fire in the belly of a political animal like myself. The strategy, planning, orchestrating, organizing that goes into a campaign is like a passion drug which culminates into the day when the crazy disorganized yet organized team (like the back scenes of a restaurant kitchen) that is often pulled together under their preferred candidate only a couple of weeks before the big day. And on the big day??? It's go, go, go.................with the hopes that all the work done behind the scenes set your candidate up to take the brass ring.

Nomination conventions are different than a regular election, mostly because it is THE venue for the like minded armchair politicians. Partisan chortling reigns. Slamming the other parties is like chowing down on appetizers before the REAL election. It has a feel of safe, where your philosophical perspectives are generally the same, and theres room for debate on the peripheral more unique ones. It's not a cookie cutter kind of thing........far from it. In any politcal party, there is a vast range of different thinking, though they all seems to stem from the same mission statement of sorts. Lots of smacking and snacking goes on..........

I met my candidate, Brian MacDonald last year when I was working in the last provincial election for one of the candidates who also happened to be running for this brass ring though I had no idea at the time that this was to be. I was impressed with Brian then, and my respect and my determination to help his campaign grew the more I got to know him.

Over the year, we kept in touch, sometimes meeting for a beer just the two of us, as we both needed to get to know one another. Our conversations ranged from current events, to government machinations, to the hot button topics which are often left off the table with others who may not see the world from the same angle. This fall, the date for the convention was finally chosen and the race was on. My role in Brian's campaign? I was in charge of organizing the big day for him and his team.... a role I have played before and one I do love because it puts me RIGHT in the middle of the melee as the conductor.

The key to winning the nomination however happens before the big day. It starts with a crucial membership drive, to garner support and continues with encouraging these delegates to show up.........in political terms, it is called GOTV...........get out the vote. It's a rallying of the troops, an organzational strategy that gets hammered out by a team of people who come from all walks of life, who come together in boardrooms and livingrooms after putting in a long day at work. It's the gameplan planning all around a list of names who have been signed up to vote on convention day that brings a team together........that allows a team to learn about one another as individuals with gifts and skills and contacts to bring to the table. Those lists are scrutinized and analyzed ad nauseum.

Timelines revolve around the candidate, and for mine we needed to arrange for as many opportunities for Brian to meet and greet............for people to get to know him. Despite the fact that this man has more impressive credentials than his opponents as well as an inherently nutured propensity to be a leader, the thorn in his side is the fact that he's "from away." He didn't grow up here. He didn't go to school here. He doesn't have family ties to Fredericton. Though he is a Maritimer, and grew up in Halifax, this is not acceptable for SOME neanderthal reason by the majority of the old guard in this party as well as in this city. He's considered an unknown and a risk. His other supposed thorn? He's a single good looking man. Hello? This is a negative thing? It is with the dusty headed types who can no only step outside of their life boxes, but won't even peer over the edge.

back to the team thing ............

Arguments, shouts of differing opinions as well as whoops of cheers all feed the need to recognize the team member as all key to the pulling of a win. And as much as I love the day of the convention when my role kicks in most predominantly, the backroom rabble fuels my energy level..........feeds my political addiction and puts me in a room with a bunch of people who feel and are fueled by the same.

The goal is clear. No argument there. How we manage to achieve it needs to be hammered out, by a group who all harbour opinions. There are few shrinking violets on a political planning team. Opinions are never scarce. Neither are the laughs. I definately had my share of hair pulling confrontations where blood pressure rises and heads shake. I even stated to my husband last weekend to SHOOT me if I ever offer to get involved in one of these horse races again. Like any event, there is always a period of frustration in the planning. Like any group or team, there is a process that happens which includes Forming, Storming, Norming and then Performing.......... In a few short weeks, this team somehow managed to reach the performing level........to get there involves a venue to bark and to bellow, to stretch each other's thinking and to live in a uncomfortable place of learning.

So....................................there I was sitting in a cavernous drafty room with my sore feet pulsing from overuse waiting to hear the results all the while replaying the planning and then the day through my head.

I had been in that arena since 11 am decorating and setting up then orchestrating meeters and greeters, scrutineers and overseers........making sure the food was delivered and devoured, the beer flowed, the people arrived, the t shirts were passed out, the stickers were used up, the music for the speech worked, the timing for the enmasse group to arrive and march in waving their signs etc............ loving it and loving the energy.

Political events are like any sports final...........it is FULL of emotion, intrigue, and butterflies. I was nervous as all get out, fueled by adenaline and caffeine......motivated by the electricity of the crowd which numbered over a thousand at the peak (impressive considering the Liberals only managed to get 300 TOTAL out to vote in their nomination convention on a Saturday night no less......) My brain was sharply focused and I was firing on all cylinders. It felt good to be in the middle of the event.

No, it wasn't a smooth night. There were several blips and glitches, as is expected. Some of them in hindsight were more planned by one of the other teams (oh, heres one..................having their theme music from the speech demo playing over and over again all afternoon like the sound system was being tested AND then kept on as background music throughout the voting............... or not having the music guy available until the last minute to discuss the planning for the speech demo AND then finding out he was working for the other team and was able to keep their music front and centre during the voting etc) Most that I noticed were of course from our team including me. But it's all part and parcel of politics........thinking quickly on your feet, even if they become weary is crucial.

tick, tick.........tick, tick..........................second ballot results................

It was between Brian MacDonald, a fresh face 36 year old man with an armload of credentials including a stint in Bosnia and Afghanistan as an Officer, studying at RMC and the London School of Economics etc.............versus the safe Member of the New Brunswick Legislative Assembly who was introduced as a person who grew up with "a rifle in one hand and a fishing pole in the other"(this is a bonus???? For some backwoods redneck in attendance, I guess so) and whose claim to fame and his own self absorbed legacy is the paving of the Nevers Road and the opening of the road exchange onto the new Trans Canada Highway near his home vilage of New Maryland where he has lived and breathed for 46 years with his wife and family ( he said this in his speech and expected people to cheer ???? How frigging lame was that???)

We lost by 8 votes.

Many pints of beer was consumed after that one.

I'm still shaking my head...............perhaps if we had been able to boast about our own paved road......would the results had been different. Did we lose by one measly paved road???

This city has ONCE again voted for the so called safe bet and will ONCE again lose the next election. We had a chance to return this riding to the rightful owners after a 20 year hiatus. 20 years!! What's funny is that this riding is still perceived and considered Conservative despite the obvious fact that it has been a Liberal rep in Ottawa for quite a while. Fredericton Tories will never learn and will not be in power when Stephen Harper drops the election date bomb in the near future, because ONCE again, they just chose a man who would never hesitate to hang out at a smelt fry.

I'm out of there............

I wish the lot of them well and will see them in a couple of years to hammer it out again.

Two women

summer view from springhill road

Everyday, I go to work to work with people who can't, aren't, don't know how, and sometimes really don't want to...........work that is. Most can't.....for one reason or another, they can't find work, or simply can't because of their life circumstances. Consequently, they have to live well below the poverty line in a world where money is minimal, opportunities are abysmal, and hope is sometimes mixed with despair. They live on social assistance. I honestly don't know how they manage to keep hope alive let alone live and pay their bills. And yet they do. Their strength in the face of daily adversity touches me deeply. They are my teachers when it comes to keeping hope alive.

_______________________________________

Today, I met with a woman who has 505 dollars to live on for the month. She is considered "low employable" so receives the HIGHER amount of social assistance. Yes, there are others who live on LESS than that in this wealthy country. Her rent is 300 dollars and that doesn't include anything except electricity, which luckily covers her heat expenses. She lives in a rooming house which consists of one room of her own, and shared kitchen and bathroom facilities. She has no access to the thermostat. The heat is set for her room somewhere else. She tells me that in the summer, it's like an oven because there is no cross ventilation. In the winter, it's like freezer because the building has very little insulation, so the landlord keeps the thermostat on low because the heat escapes through the cracks and misshapen doors and windows and it costs too much to heat the place.


The rest of her money goes to everything else........food, personal necessity items like shampoo and soap, phone, busfare, over the counter medications which she is required to take due to her health issues, and anything else that arises. Cable is a luxury even though she is basically house bound..............or room bound due to her multiple health issues. She has an old radio, and little TV that receives one channel, a kettle and a hot plate. The room is big enough to fit a bed, a dresser and a little table.



She can't work. Her health is too precarious, but not enough to be certified disabled which would mean she would receive a few more dollars a month, but more importantly would be considered a "priority." This doesn't mean a whole heck of a lot because budgets for anything except the REAL emergencies have been cut to nothing. However, she would become a priority for subsidized housing..........where her rent would be less than half of what she is paying now. Then, maybe she could afford cable. For now and for the unforseeable future, her days will feel like she's just putting in time.





Empty time, in chronic pain. Alone.
I wonder when she last heard the words, "I love you?"
I wonder how long her nights feel.
I wonder if she has the ability to look in the mirror on top of her paint chipped dresser and see her own beauty?
I wonder where she continues to find hope despite her circumstances?
I wonder if I could find hope if I found myself in similar circumstances?

This woman exuded hope sitting in my office talking with me, so much so that we laughed out loud together. At one point, we were able to brush aside our perceived roles to chat like two women meeting for coffee swapping funny life stories, not "client and counsellor" getting the paperwork done.

She has no money, never has. She has lived a financially poor life, one fraught with bone aching hunger, violent angry relationships........one with more falls and scrapes and concussions imaginable. What she does have is strength in her spirit, something that has pulled others into her life. She has friends.......other women who live in the same rooming house who look after her when she is in too much pain to get out of bed. She is needed and they are needed and that's the ingredient for hope. Life is meaningful if we know we are needed. No doubt money would HELP make life a whole lot easier. Whoever says otherwise is lying. But, money is can never buy reality of being needed.


________________________


Last week, I met with a young single mom who is getting gouged by her own family who are making her pay $700.00 a month rent for a two bedroom basement apartment for her daughter, her infant son and herself. She receives a little more than her rent. Her story of how she ended up in the basement of a family member's home touched me deeply. She left a abuse behind, and wonders if her daughter will ever trust again. She doesn't know how deep the scars are inside her spirit and hopes that her safer home has a door which opens to healing for her little one.




Passive healing as opposed to healthy intervention? Such a big wish to throw out into the randomness of incomplete prayer. Potentially extensive wounds relying on the air to scab it over? How does the air reach a cut on a 10 year old's broken soul? She needs more than that. Air can't validate like a listening human being. Air can't rock a little one who needs to crawl up onto the lap of trust, to be held in warming recognition. Air can't speak a song of love. Not on it's own.


However.........her momma has the same wounds and many more which have accumulated over her life of cuts and bruises, of loud nastiness which has rung in her ears since she was a little one. Her own childhood needs were never met.

Now? She is struggling to overcome a prescription addiction through the methadone program and has in fact been on methadone three times longer than she was taking her addictive pain medication which was prescribed to her by a doctor who is known for handing out Dilaudid like candy. And, there is no end in sight. In dire need of consistent counselling and guidance with a competent counsellor she can learn to trust, she has found herself on a waiting list in limbo for months. She can't work. She can't cope. She can't pay her bills. And she has yet to meet with a legal aid lawyer to help her deal with pending custody issues. She's over her head and she's drowning.




I wish I could honestly state that these stories are unique. They aren't. Poverty cuts to the core, past financial need, beyond the superficial one dimensional view we often have of what it means to be without money.



Once I knew some of her story, I filled in the gaps from my own knowledge gathered working in the frontlines. My conversation with this young Mom then focused on validating her own childhood needs which were never met. Surprised that I went there instead of focusing on the here and now...........she lifted her head, and let the tears which were hidden just below the surface of her skin, flow freely. I could hear her intake as she quickly gathered her thoughts.......her complicated convoluted memories which were flooding her.

Spilling out the grief, the anger, the pain
And I wondered if this would help her find some strength to address her daughter's needs.
I wondered if under the flood of life, seeds of hope were waiting to open up on top of the water like a summer waterlily.
Pouring it out........brought her to a bit of calm, like she had grabbed onto a lifesaver.....a branch travelling downstream. A tentative smile shone through the tears. Strength and resolution was starting to form again.

Being needed, feeling needed, needing others........a circle which nutures itself no matter what the circumstances are because it is the key ingredient for sharing and recognizing our brokenness as the source of our strength. It makes me wonder if brokenness is where our hope stirs waiting to be gathered.

That's what you are.............

I look at this picture of this one little path which leads to a beach I can conjure up in a blink of an eye and I am bowled over by the many many unforgettable moments I hold close to my heart. Camp Kawabi. A view from the lodge.

_________________________________________________

What makes a moment unforgettable? It's not the length of the moment, nor the planning of it. Many times have we stopped to gaze out at the night stars on a summer's night and yet only a few of them are so memorable that they sit on the plateau of never forget. What made them so special? Was it because you shared it with someone? Was it because looking out at the stars on that unforgettable night was the moment you were able to catch your breath after an experience or an event which meant a lot to you? Or was there a special star which caught your eye and made you wonder.............?

Unforgettable events become the tangled story of our lives. They are the snapshots in our memories which we can reach back to touch. They make our short existance real.

First kiss, first love, first time passions.

Tender first steps through transitions -- milestones which record our history

Footprints of people who left impressions on our hearts

Mentors who guide

Elders who pass on their wisdom

Kindreds who share of themselves

Babies who melt our hearts

Our children who remind us everyday of what is important.

Moments of hilarity

Segments of grief

Bone chilling phone calls or sirens or alarms.

Heart lifting songs which become soundtracks to our stories.

A time when intimacy began with a shared look of desire and ended in confusion and silence.

Saying goodbye forever

Saying hello for a lifetime

Unforgettable moments are trapped in the deep sighing crevasses where our emotions resonate the strongest.

It's where you find..............

Sharp edged sorrow captured for eternity

Joy shouting in the light breaths of new life.

Struggles, achievements, successes and failures......all of which etch out the stories tucked in our memories.

so many, so many..........................tiny time capsules

our chain linked life line

allowing us to leave our fingerprints behind

giving our existance meaning

exposing us as unique

adorning our tapestries with the sequins of our light.

Unforgettable is the prompt for Writer's Island today. Since reading the prompt, I have replaying a few of my own most unforgettable moments...... they have all made me smile and wonder if my moments which have left indelible memories in me are as strongly felt by the people I shared them with.

A need money can't buy.

The prompt this week from Sunday Scribblings is "money." It is the second prompt in a row which jumpstarted a variety of stories nestled in my memory bank and which kickstarted a multitude of thought processes that I have only had time to give a little attention to as far as capturing them in my own words. In fact, I wasn't able to finish the story I wanted to from last week when the prompt was hospital, but I have captured it's essence and one day soon, I will post it. It's about a boy who still dwells in my thoughts and heart.


This week's prompt obviously fits with the work I do with people who find themselves living on social assistance. Money, and lack of it is obviously a constant theme. Because I am not at liberty to open up the coffers of the government bank account and dish out some cash, I often feel hand tied when trying to help an individual. However, there is something I can provide that costs nothing financially. And in return, I am offered gifts which also doesn't have anything to do with money.

This is what I decided to write about tonight. And over the next couple of weeks, I plan to post a few stories of the people who have played a role lately in offering me the gifts of my lifework..............my reason for being. I would like to include a half dozen of their stories tonight, but the post would end up becoming a novel. What I do know is that their stories will never leave me..................their stories are a part of me I want to expressly share.

Maybe it's what I'm needed for.
____________________________________________

I need you.

Three simple words that pack a punch. You hear it in the cry of a newborn. You feel it when you tiptoe into your sleeping child's room late at night and take in the air of innocence. You see it in the pleaful eyes of your dog. You hear it in the words, I love you.

It's the underlying message behind a recognized job well done, or in a comment like......."we couldn't have done it without you." It hides behind a thank you, a bless you, an "I'm so glad to see you."

When you are given a task because someone knows you're good at it.

When you are hugged by a thankful friend after helping them move.

When you receive an email which reads......."you don't know how much it means to me....."

You are needed.

We may not even be cognizant of striving for those moments of validation. We may think that our actions are performed because we just want to, or we feel obligated, or because it's the right thing to do. But you know what? We do them because we have a desire to feel like we are needed.

What happens if no one needs us? What if we NEVER feel needed, or that all of our needs are met by others due to the circumstances we find ourselves in our lives, and there is never a chance to reciprocate? Why are those words so powerful? Why do we long to hear them?

Because deep down, we all have a need to be needed. Perhaps hearing these words and feeling validated is what makes life worth living. Perhaps knowing we are needed by others keeps our hope alive, especially when the whole world around us seems so dauntingly depressing. If I know I'm needed, I want to get up in the morning again and again.............I want to partake in the life of my community.

I have a REASON to be.

In his book, "Man is Not Alone," Abraham Heschel elaborates on this idea. He proposes that there are many things in life that human beings need in order to survive. And yet, planet earth would carry on because it doesnt need us.

"Who is in need of man? Nature? Do the mountains stand in need of our poems? Would the stars fade away if astronomy ceased to exist? The earth can get along without the aid of the human species. Nature is replete with the opportunity to satisfy all our needs except one -- the need of being needed."

WE need to be needed. It's what gives our life meaning.

It doesn't matter if you are the poorest person or the richest person in the whole world. It doesn't matter if you are healthy and independent or living in chronic pain dependent on others for your care every single day of your life. It doesn't matter if you live in a palace surrounded by luxury, servants and someone who draws your bath, cooks your meals and chooses your wardrobe, or if you live on the street with no home to go to. It doesn't matter if you are you or I am me. WE all live to fulfill our desire to be needed.

It is how we can leave our footprints behind.

No amount of money can buy it. No amount of money can replace the feeling. It's a priceless gift to give and to receive, and the most important act we can take a role in.

I need you. Do you need me?

Do we need one another?

As powerful as those other three important words.................I love you. Perhaps they mean the same thing?

stop, think, feel and listen........do i have the time?

I seem to be in start and stall mode right now. I start writing a piece and then it either seems too darn depressing unintentionally, or too fluffy. I can't seem to find the middle ground. And I wonder why. I think part of the reason is that I am juggling many tennis balls right now, and the activities or projects are compartmentalized in order to manage and sort them....in order to prioritize. Consequently, my thinking is the same. It's like I have a short term narrow view and if I go beyond those borders, I find my thoughts and feelings are just too broad to explore within the timeframe I have to offer.

And yet........... I have many stories in my head simmering. They want to be told. They all want my time and attention. But I only have time for snippets. I only have time for quick glances when really they require more than that. So, I stall...........halfway through a story and I'm left wondering if I can bite off more than I have time for.

Reflections take time. Reflections are open ended journeys which have a life of their own because one never knows how connected they are to the iceberg of thoughts and feelings down below the surface of the original thought. One story, one encounter, one experience, one activity in a day of many of all of those..............leads to a myriad of others. Our lives aren't compartmentalized. Our lives are strands of interwoven threads which link and knot and connect and blend together to form our own fabric. You start pulling on one of those threads and you never know where that will lead you. I guess I'm feeling like I don't have time to pull the various threads all vying for my attention.


And yet............


Writing offers me a venue to empty my personal cup of life which by the end of a week is full, full, full of deep red wine. When I write, it's like I am dipping a piece of bread into the wine to soak up it's flavourful body. The cup becomes lighter, easier to manage as I dip and sip and stop to reflect on who and what helped fill it............to reflect on how it makes me feel, on why it makes me feel.............to reflect on the feelings and activities of people I brushed up against this week. If I don't, the wine spills over and stains the threads......turns them into a different pattern, or perhaps hides the real lessons found in the pattern. If I don't take the time to dip the bread, I may miss out on assessing the meaning and significance.......the impact the interactions have had on how I think and feel.


Reflection is a key part of counselling as well as in living a more aware life. It's a pertinent part of the debriefing process so that one encounter doesn't blend into another........so someone else's hurt doesn't leave me bruised and myopically observant of the next person I meet with. When I don't take the time to sip the wine and eat the bread, I feel replenished. I will only feel weighted down with heavy full cups that will spill too easy.

Luckily the process of reflecting can happen during any other activity too. It doesn't need written words. It needs acknowledgement. It needs breathing space. The pattern of the threads can be touched and reviewed while sipping from the cup, while doing other tasks. Reflections can accompany other activities..........housecleaning, errand running, dog walking, dish washing, grocery shopping......all the "must do's" .......... Though it's best when one can sit down with another person keen to do the same for an open ended evening of unrushed unravelling. But we can't have that optimum all the time. Life is too busy most days. Still, it's not something one can ignore.


The stories and the written words may have to wait for another time, but the reflections can't wait. Today I will go about my busy schedule all the while looking back on the week, reliving the feelings, and sorting it out. If I happen to have a faraway eyes in aisle 10 at the grocery store, you'll now know why. And for goodness sake, don't be jumping out in front of me.....I startle easily when I'm multi-tasking in my head.

So..................

I'm off to the market. Saturday at the market is where the reflections begin for me. I always feel replenished after my meanders and chats at the market. I always have time for that.

clarity

janet ledger, swings

Recently, I read the word clarity defined as an "outward swing of a prayer." When you consider that prayer often holds a request to understand parts of our lives and our journey more fully, the definition seemed to fit. I could actually envision the process as being a cloistered contemplation which then unfolded and lifted open to an enlightened sense of awareness. A true aha moment.

Aha..........I get it.





Aha.......perhaps I figured it out.



The more I thought about it, the more I realized that with clarity comes patience, because when something becomes more transparent, you are given a signpost to guide your decisions. Or at the very least, to help you take another step along the way. If you know where you're going, or why you have had to travel a particular road (because most of the time clarity is a friend of hindsight), you will also feel a bit of calm settling in.



I've written before that patience is not an ingredient I naturally possess, or so it feels. I prefer to grab hold of the reigns, to make a decision and go for it........especially if surrounded by incoherence and indecision. Nothing irks me more than being held back by an environment full of wafflers, especially if the waffling impacts or blocks the journey.......mine or someone elses. It just seems like a lot of hot air and wasted time.



Looking at it with new eyes, I can see how clarity brings purpose to an activity. You know what you want. You can envision it. Feel it. Touch it. Swing out to it with momentum propelling you. It is wrapped up in hopeful knowledge. My writing process is an example. I know that one day, I would like to have some of it published. This is clear to me............so much so that I honestly feel that it will happen. Knowing this has brought a patient calm inside me that I rarely feel, because I see the goal happening.



No need to rush. Let it unfold as it should.......this is what my inner talk tells me. Reassurance and patience through the outward swing of a prayer.



And yet.................



I don't know about you, but I've never been on a swing that continued moving forward and up. At some point, it stops in mid air for a millesecond and then propels backwards, past the starting point and up and out the other way.



This opposite movement of thought makes me wonder if perhaps I have completely screwed up the definition. Maybe clarity drives a nail into patience. Maybe when we step out of the safe confines of a headspace called blurriness into an eye opening aha moment that we are pricked with a sensation of wanting to flee, to move, to rush forward............to scamper forward in an impatient desperate manner because the revelation we have just experienced has felt so shocking that we want to move out of it's path as fast as we can.

I guess it depends on the angle you are looking at it.



I guess it depends on the direction you are swinging.



I guess we have to be careful what we pray for.


Clarity? I guess it's still about as clear as mud.

Nerds to the Rescue!

There is a second hand store nearby which we frequent often, especially around this time of year to find just the right garments for Halloween creativity. For two months, my son was determined that he would go out for Halloween this year as a renegade teletubbie. He was going to be Po on the lam. So off we went to Jinglers in search of red Po stuff. Instead, we found a pair of pants with a zipper up the back and an argyle vest and a pair of glasses and Po went out the window to be replaced by a nerd.

All tucked in and everywhere to go, this dreamboat ladies man had his hair slicked down just right by his sister and I. When he looked in the mirror for the first time with the duct tape on his glasses and his hair parted to the side, he laughed so hard that tears rolled down his face!! It was priceless. Though I promised not to post these...........I had my fingers crossed......... I couldn't help myself. This second shot is of my heartmelter son doing his best pose of a nerd with something on his mind. He cracks me up.

We had lots of ghouls and demons knock on the door tonight.......a couple of Harry Potters, a bunch of football players, a king, a mint and a few ghosts. But, I have to say we only had one nerd in the neighbourhood.

Happy Halloween. This is our nasty pumpkin gnawing on a baby pumpkin. BAAAAD pumpkin.

on being human.......

If you went looking, where would you find God in our world these days?

Could it be in the place where we make the comforting connections with one another when we are at our weakest? Does God dwell in the plea for help, in the sigh of a surrender , in the bleak passages where tears accumulate? Does God's presence seep into the cracks of broken hearts?

If you went looking, where would you find a human being in our world these days? Is it in the same places as you would find God?

We are our most human when we make the comforting connections with one another when we are at our weakest......when we are at the messiest, most doubting and trying times in our lives. It makes me wonder if we discover ourselves and our faith more through the pain we may have to endure while we figure our problems out....that through our vulnerability, the raw wounds can lead to much deeper connections with other human beings who are willing to be with us during those times.

Interesting that brokenness can manifest love and belonging if we want it to. Interesting how showing our human beingness to someone else passes on God's light. He dwells in all of us.

We are all we have. As human beings we must listen and respond to the weeping of others, don't you think? Our primary goal in life is to feel needed. Let us fulfill this goal by offering ourselves to others in need.......unconditionally. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

are you out there?

I see
Streetlight tricks on the upshorn leaves

behind the shadow pine
catching the corner of my eye

I hear
Dry soundscrapes of tumbling remants

down the deserted road

threatening nocturnal emptiness

I listen to

An infrequent pitched squeak of a bare branch

against the window pane

warning of winter's cold breath

I feel

haunted sadness when I see your image

behind my closed eyes

haunted regret when I sense your presence

captured in an illusionary embrace

I taste
the last remnants of a parched thirst
the slow drip of salty tears wandering in lost causes
touching my lips in ache

I remember

how you looked at me,

how you used to look right into me.


and it makes me wonder about
shivering loneliness caught in the throat of a cry.

and it makes me long for
surrendering tenderness found in the shared darkness of two souls


to soothe my wounds
to remind me of my beauty
to savour when the winds moan a bitter song

of wanting what I cannot find.

This week's prompt for Writer's Island is "haunted"..........a deliciously enticing and downright frightening dare. I double dare you to check out the site........

pathos, passion and purpose....

fury, passion and heat of a summer storm

Loud honestly expressive emotions scare the pants off people. We are conditioned at a very early age to keep them under wraps because they make others feel uncomfortable. Cultural and gender rules complicate the acceptable map that chart what is appropriate, and what isn't, as do the stereotypes we have for nationalities. What is allowable in a very young child, is different than what is anticipated in adolescence, or what is demanded of an adult, or even what is agreeable from a person in the later years of their lives. Different workplaces and careers spin their own set of rules.

Can you imagine an intensely gregarious librarian with a penchant for impulsive stand up comedy outbursts while returning books to their appropriate shelves? What about a motivational speaker who decides to show up one day with a bag full of anger and decides to rant and rage from the podium? A Manager who breaks into song while reviewing the agenda for the meeting? Despite the fact that we are all born with certain temperments, the acceptable range of emotions is born by the societal norms we find ourselves in.

And rightly so.................for most of our daily lives. We learn to play the game because society needs some semblance of order and order only comes when we BEHAVE. Whether it's learning to repress our natural inclinations or to more fully express beyond our inherent comfort zone, we learn the rules and abide by them. I may WANT to share exactly how I'm feeling with people I encounter during a typical day, but they most likely don't want to hear it. No...................if you're asked..........."How are you today?" Our auto-pilot knee jerk response is a bland......."Fine, thank you. How's your day going?"

polite, acceptable, expected small talk.

Try walking into the coffee shop you frequent the most and answer that question posed by the person waiting on you with a different response, even if it isn't too outrageous..........like........

"I'm exhausted and premenstrually grouchy thanks. How about you?" Guaranteed, you will..............

a) be remembered

b) receive a dumbfounded responsive look from someone who isn't used to improvising or revising their own response.

Express your LOVE too much.....Describe how much you LOATHE or ADORE an activity........Detail the SORROW you feel over a provocative movie or an encounter you've had..........Wax poetic about the PAIN and ANGUISH you feel, or how INSPIRED you feel by a piece of poetry or..................play the evocative trump card and watch out. People are just not comfortable in that milieu. You will be dismissed as an eccentrically out of control nutbar. Intensity in public is frowned upon. Intensity EVEN out of the public eye, with most of the people whom we are the closest to is not received well.

For God's sake, keep the tear ducts plugged, your fantasties on file and your passions in your pants.

Repress your distress. Well, perhaps it's alright to say you are having a bad day and leave it at that. Tell someone you enjoyed their company thank you very much, but don't hug them TOO long or they will get the wrong impression. Be good! Be nice! When one has a tendancy to wear ones emotions more openly than the societal comfort level, it is like a breath of fresh air when one finds a kindred who isn't afraid to be the receiver of them.

This is why I love writing. Though we have a tendancy to censor a lot of what we share publically, the allowable well is deeper, and the rules for the most part are of our own making. Expressive thought written down tends to be more viscerally emphatic. There's an intimacy between the author and reader that is enticing.

Writing about how one feels is to offer a venue that says......guess what? You can journey with me on this emotional trip if you want, and hopefully you can relate because you've felt them too.

Let me describe my passions.......the big bright validating life affirming scope of emotions.

Let me describe what makes me weep with sadness, what makes me rage with frustration.

Let me find the words for my desires, my hopes, my loves, my whooping JOY.

Let me stir around in the complicated silence which echos the pathos of my heart.

Let our emotions tap tap tap our thinking..........not to drive our decisions, but to add outward clarity to our inward prayers.

Writing is a cathartic character building boulevard where words merge with effervescent efflusivity. And as much as blogging is a public forum, it still has an anonymity shield which offers a chance for interaction to be a more intimate and acceptable place to display our worries, our frets, our longings. Strangers become friends because the happy hour small talk is cast aside. Blemishes are acceptable. Beauty is more robust. It can be a place where one can spill out doubts as emotionally charged as one wants.

As for the people in my life whom I have a history with outside of the blogworld who read and worry about the intensity of it all? For the love of PETE! RELAX! I personally cannot speak/write for anyone else except myself. My writing is my forum to put words to my thoughts and new ideas out while owning how I feel. I am not becoming a religious fanatic, however that is defined. What of it if I was? I am not about to take a long walk off a short pier........... I'm not running away, falling apart, losing my marbles nor changing my hair colour. (well, ok, I changed my hair colour to RED). I'm growing in the discomfort.

Wounds are never silent because they will begin to fester. They need recognition from the owner and I'm saying hello to them. I am simply poking the hibernating bear we all have lurking beneath the sheets of decorum, and LOVING the discoveries the writing has unearthed.

and so it goes............

Friday evening wine sipping
piano melodies in low key
and I'm thinking of a song...........



and so it goes......


and so it goes........



It's a song Billy Joel used to end his concerts.
Low key reflections of the heart.

It's music like this I want accompanying my end of the week thoughts.
Inclusive, not intrusive......
candlelit, backlit flickering in the foreground
emotionally driven, lightly touching, deeply felt.

It mirrors my reveries
It adornes my reflections



and so it goes........



and so it goes.......

Yesterday, I took part in a day long workshop on family violence, as a participant as well as a facilitator. 40 frontline staff, from various sections of my government department.....social workers, case managers, community development enthusiasts, adminstrative reception people, program officers, and a few of us crazy counsellors. It was a terrific mix of people who all work with individuals who live and survive violence. We are the people who try to help families put the pieces together...........it's a big part of our job, and yet this was the first time we came together to talk about it, and to share our accumulated expertise.

Despite the serious emotionally striking topic, it was a good day. Why? Because we ALL usually work in our own little worlds..........to come together to get to know one another at a deeper level by sharing our heart stories is uplifting. There's a sense of belonging and a recognition that our work has meaning............that what we do may make a difference. Unfortunately, we don't hear this enough. We have to rely on each other to hear it.



and so it goes............



and so it goes..........



Life is busy right now. And I like it all. It takes me out of my head and stretches my skills. I'm challenged as I organize and coordinate a few upcoming functions........extra curriculars....stuff outside of my regular work day. I'm connecting with new people, reconnecting with others I have worked with in the past, and it's all validating and affirming. But, in order to find the energy and focus, I need the time to deflate and reflect. We all do, don't we?



I am at my best when I have some down time in between, especially when the focus is on the emotionally charged interactions. Friday nights fit the bill.



"And this is why my eyes are closed
It's just as well for all I've seen
And so it goes,
and so it goes

And you're the only one who knows
So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break

And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows."

the view at the end of my street.

if beauty only visits to brush on our memory,

let us stop long enough to let the brush touch our hearts.

nature washes our spirit clean,
love cleanses it.

Grace Notes update.

View upriver from Springhill Road, early October 2007

As some of you know I have another blog which is linked to the CanadaEast website entitled "Grace Notes" . I would love it if you would check it out and left a comment on anything that interests you. The registration process for leaving comments has been fixed so that it's much easier to do so. I have posted a few pieces this week from my archives here. A little tweak, and a little polishing and there you go.

Have a lookseeeeeee.................click right here!!!!

Thanks.