blindness

If you look straight into the middle of the sun, you're left with dark spots floating before your eyes. Too much light is blinding. Temporarily. Too much reality is blinding as well. Temporarily. Both shock your system leaving a sense of discomfort you want to flee. What happens to your body if the shocking light stays on and on and on?

Panic
Palpitating heartbeats
Racing thoughts
Shallow breaths
Electric impulses
Sensory overload
Rushing adrenaline........over and over and over......
Anxiety.

If you walk into a theatre after the lights have been turned off.....just before the movie is about to begin, your hands automatically go up in front of you as your grope around for something solid to grasp onto. Darkness disables our sight. Temporarily. "Coping" with our own reality, by repressing, supressing or pushing it off into a recessed corner disables our sight as well. Temporarily. What happens if you continue to live in the absence of light?

Panic
Palpitating heartbeats
Racing thoughts
Shallow breaths
Sensory overload
Anxiety time and again...
Numbness, numbness......dulling the pain......
Depression.

We try to do everything in our power to avoid the extremes.....those deer caught in the headlight moments and those dank dark tunnel times.....especially if they lurk too often. They make us feel completely discombobulated....incapable and weak. Survival mode kicks in and we put up the shell of self absorption, or try to turn our attention on someone else possibly even overreacting to their drama because its a place to put our own anxieties. We turn into helpers, rescuers, lifesavers....or this is how we see ourselves. Others may see it very differently.

Quite often, because we are so determined to avoid our own house of horrors, we overdo our "helping" and get in the way of someone else's growth and learning. I have been guilty of this. Because of some circumstances where I have tried to "help" or to "rescue," I have neglected my own shadowy demons to a point where I realized the light was TOO bright and I completely backed away. Another time that comes to mind as I write this, I pushed too hard to help and drove the person away. I think its called smothering.....or perhaps "s'mothering" is more apt! Not that I did it out of anything but kindness....but I did it for the wrong reasons....to avoid my own shadows. Not good for either side of the equation. It wore me out rather than energized me and it impacted a friendship.

There are times when I wish I had a magic wand to take away someone else's pain. I wish I had a magic wand to take away my own when it comes to visit. But, I don't. No one does. Pain, which is the offshoot of anxiety and depression, gets a very bad rap. It HURTS! But, it is also a necessity for survival and for personal growth. It is essential and according to Paul Brand is "the gift nobody wants." When we FEEL pain, whether its physical or emotional....whether its a great big dark crevasse spiritually.... we must learn to recognize it for what it is.... a beacon, a signal in need of attention.

We never have to go it alone, though it is an option offered to us. Isolation rarely heals because of its massive potential for internal cyclical ruminations which eventually leads to a sense of believing there is no exit from the darkened theatre. But, being rescued is no better as it never allows for new learning from the experience... (and can I just add here that this is THE worst thing a parent can do for their child is to continue to rescue them..... how the heck will they ever learn to personally deal with life???).

Too much light....not enough light......signals we are in crisis. The very best thing you could for do me and the very best thing I could do for you? NOT to go into rescue mode...not to take on someone else's suffering...... Just to quietly sit beside one another right in the middle of the mess. Tough to do, to sit in someone else's suffering, or to allow someone else into your own, but if we can't do that as human beings for one another, then we've completely missed the point of why we are here on this planet taking part in God's creation of humanity aren't we??? This is compassion. Sitting in the suffering.

Interestingly, temporary blindness has the capacity to lead to new sight...."insight..."

So how do we get there? How do seek out that beacon, where the light is just right?? How do we adjust the light so it isn't so darn blinding?? All it takes to make this happen is for one of us to utter three very important words...to a friend, a doctor, a minister, a psychologist, a psychiatrist, a stranger .... someone you can trust....

"Please help me....."
Why is it that we choke on these words so often? Why do we dredge the suffering on by denying we need help?

ps. I chose the photo to accompany this piece because I loved the fact that this geranium was a slip cut from a plant and is re-rooting. Such a beautiful bloom, but also it has a few leaves that are damaged and dried up...and the stem isn't straight. It has lived long, perhaps in the garden last year and was reborn into a different form of beauty. Last night, it sat in a vase with such elegance over my friend Jen's kitchen sink. The late afternoon sun caught in its spaces.....its red petals sung with a promise of strength....its roots replenished with goodness. Soon it will join the rest of the garden.

deception....

Who lives on the island called Fool's Paradise surrounded by a mirage of delusionary hope? YOU DO! I know, I know ... you deny this vehemently ....

Who cries out with incessant histrionics too painfully misguided to be believable except to the one who cries the purple tears? YOU DO! Yeah...sure ... I hear your whacky explanation. I don't believe it.

How does someone function under such fantasies instead of the truth? And why? Why does someone work so damn hard not to be honest about their behaviour, both past and present? Is it because they spend all of their energy living a lie, creating many facades that NEVER interact with one another that somewhere along the line the truth has become so diluted by crocodile tears? Have they been so wounded and abused in the past that they don't have the capacity to act any differently because they really don't trust anyone? Wow, what a lot of work!

For a long time, you tried to keep me close as you manipulated your way through the maze of deception. I saw through your act ages ago. You know this.....and it terrifies you. I have become part of your deepening haunting shadow and you hate me for it. I have joined the previous folks who saw through your convoluted web and into your obsessive need to play a role, to wear a mask, to don a people pleasing persona even though deep down... the folks who clearly see that you think you're better than everyone else on this planet and this scares you to a point where you're determined to try to keep me close. Sad, pathetic, so alone YOU. Yes, entitlement is your achilles heel, as is your unrelenting belief that you are pure and unblemished.....that YOU do nothing wrong. You give, and give and give.....and why does the rest of the world not understand all that you have forfeited?

You trust no one.....NO ONE..... but like a hungry black widow, you keep this secret under wraps. Too bad your hunger is too ravenous, which at times makes you let that false skin down only to reveal your vulnerabilities.

What is interesting is that when you write.....you attempt to describe your vulnerabilities. You choose words carefully..........NOTHING comes out of you that you havent poured your energy assessing, contemplating, regurgitating. But, once someone realizes how wounded you really are, your vulnerabilities, used as weapons to trigger others seem juvenile.... pendantic.... pathetic.

What you hide, you hide from yourself. What you reveal? Here's the secret..... you reveal your sorrowful soul.... exactly what you are trying your hardest to keep under wraps. Why can't you just be honest about how you really feel, what you really think instead of trying to hammer a wedge between others? Why can't you just admit you're threatened and you need help? Why can't you come forward and admit your wrongdoings?

Why? Because the feelings you so aptly write about are feelings you never dare to embrace fully. Or maybe you do, but you can't imagine anyone else feeling the same way. It's like the intensity of how YOU feel outweighs anyone's elses. It's all very strange. I call it passive aggressive foreplay. Play on... by yourself.

What would happen if you did decide to leave the island of Fool's Paradise? Gee, maybe you'd find your soul.......and leave behind the "poor me" fashion and the "Nobody understands me" bullshit. Maybe you'd get real....to admit who you really are and learn to love yourself.

Deception....you intrigue me with your mind twisting confusion because I want to know the reason behind your need to control the relationships you eventually mess up. I wonder how you can keep things straight.... how you keep the revolving door of people in your life straight. Who have you told what whipped up story to????

I guess it comes down to the fact that you don't trust a soul. Always on the tipping point of being revealed as the con artist human you are, you never relax except when you drown yourself in the addiction of choice.....food, booze, drugs.....sex. When does it stop? Can you stop or are you suffering something greater than a good look in the mirror would help.

Can I suggest something? Can I suggest that it's time to seek help.....professional help and begin to admit the reason behind your incessant lies, rouge cheeked faces, your phoney posturing? Its time to stop the emotional manipulation. It's time to lift your veil to reveal you own brokenness. It's time to fess up, deal with whatever demons you harbour and heal.

And please stay clear of my life.... I'm sick of your head games, your lacey cheap perfumed attempts at empathy, and I won't let them or YOU interfere with my life anymore. Your mind games have become boring. The time I have spent trying to help and to figure you out has dried up.

ps....HEY! Anyone out there who has felt the whoring of deception in their lives before?? It's a mindtrip, thats for sure.

summing it up....and looking forward....

17 years ago, I was an instructor at the local Community College. It was a contract position, which in some ways forced me to take on subjects I would never have considered teaching. When I was asked if I was willing to take on another course, I bravely accepted the challenge (and went home freaking while I figured it out.) When you're flying by the seat of your pants, trying to develop a portfolio of marketability, when you're the one paying the bills putting your spouse through university while establishing yourself in a new city with a minimal career network, when you are the lowest on the totem pole, you dig deep into your own reservoir of skills and open yourself up to learning as you go. That's how I saw it. That's how I approached it.

For four years, I worked from contract to contract without a break between them. Because one can't turn down an opportunity when you're a casual/contract staff person I worked my ass off, sometimes teaching by day and night!! However, teaching and facilitating was not how I had envisioned my career. I had never taken a teaching course ever!!!

I had always thought I'd be working with children, and had studied in the field of counselling and assessment of children. I even focused primarily on pre-schoolers and had a few years while living in Toronto at a rehabiliation centre establishing a sensory stimulation program for children with multiple disabilities. The program I created continues today. Needless to say, I was determined at this point in my career to find this stream....to work with children with special needs in the school system or in a hospital setting. I struggled seeing myself as a teacher of adults. In many ways it was so far removed from my perceived career goal. But, I loved it. I loved it.

I remember the first subject I was hired to teach.....Developmental Psychology. It was a night course for childcare workers who were taking courses towards their diploma in their field. I had been given a text book and a syllabus with a bunch of objectives and learning outcomes listed. That was it. It was up to me to lay out the 2 nights a week for 10 weeks.....all of it! Daunting? You bet!! No internet....no computers. I had reference books and a typewriter. I had my knowledge of the subject matter and the field of childcare/preschool. I started by thinking about the teachers I had learned the most from and why.....and went from there. It was an instinctual jumping into the wild. That's how it felt. I was determined to get the class to talk....to share and to learn from one another. It would not be a passive classroom. They were sitting there as experts working in the field. They had the answers. And they did......and i learned. And it worked. Trial by immersion!!!!!

Human Relations, Effective Writing Skills, Family Dynamics, Introduction to Psychology, Early Childhood theory, Working with Exceptional Children, Goal Setting for Employment, Life Skills, Preparation for Employment, Career Orientation, Stress Management, Counselling, Human Services...... I taught them all and repeated a few of them. The Life Skills program, a 4 week interactive group counselling program for people on Income Assistance.....the first step to moving into the world of work.....?? I ran 24 of them back to back. The skills I developed and honed have been invaluable. And somewhere along the line, I accepted the fact that I really enjoyed the field of Adult Education....even took a couple of courses in it after the fact. It was a good fit for me.

One of the activities I did on the side was individual counselling. It just sort of evolved. Students sought me out, and I was more than willing to lend and ear. At the time the College didn't have guidance counseling services on site despite the evidence of how much it was needed. I tried to lobby for it, thinking that perhaps this could be a niche that may lead to full time permanent employment. But, the political will wasn't there. I continued counselling the students, lending a listening ear, encouraging them, motivating them,.....helping them process their own stuff, helping them make some decisions. I kept tabs on the numbers of students I helped in this way in order to prove to the powers that be there was a need. No such luck.

Eventually, I was hired away from the College....there was no job security there.....to work as the counseling specialist in the frontlines of the welfare office. The skills I had acquired and the love and interest I had to working with people who were living on income assistance trying to find a way out of the margins and into the heart of the work world made this job a good fit. And over the ensuing years, I jumped at any chance to develop training, consult, coach, facilitate, counsel, deliver workshops. I worked on special projects, trained staff around the province...... I had my wings....a lot of creative freedom and a respect from the powers that be that I had gifts which they recognized and wanted me to utilize.

For much of the time, I still had a vision that I would eventually make it into the field I had such a passion for ..... Early Intervention..... working with little ones. Somewhere along the line, I was given this opportunity but quickly realized that what I wanted to do in this field and what the bureaucratic jungle wanted me to do was very different, so I dropped that and moved back into the frontlines working with adults. I'd come and go.....working on different programs and projects, being pulled to deliver workshops to staff in other cities, designing and developing, but I always returned to the counselling.

After 10 years of accumulative learning and honing my skills and seeing how comfortably and easily I connected with the individuals I met and walked a mile or two with, a light bulb went on (I remember the moment it happen.....!) and I realized I was living and working in my calling. It hadn't occured to me that I was where I was supposed to be. As much as I loved working with children..... once I acknowledged that my ability to connect with adults, many of whom were in crisis, I felt a sense of calm inside me which I had never felt before. This "calling realization" happened around the same time that my writing returned with a vengeance along with my interest in my faith. I began to see my work in the marginalized trenches of the world of poverty as where I was supposed to be.

Fast track over the last couple of years, which I've written about ad nauseaum on this blog. It has been an unrelenting struggle, working in a place that had changed some dramatically. Fear enveloped leadership, communication consisted of veiled and direct threats. My wings were clipped. I went from being a part of a team who felt like family to being ripped away from them and thrown into another division with a group of people unfamiliar with what I could offer under the so called guidance of a person who obviously felt threatened by my energy and presence.

For two years, I languished in a setting without a gameplan, a workplan, without much acknowledgement of how i could help out. I was told I was a misfit....that I was difficult to work with.....that they didn't know what to do with me. When I complained, I was told to recognize how lucky I was to have a job and to try working under the radar. It numbed me, challenged me, wounded me....but it taught me (and most definately fed my writing!!) I tried to get out of there. I applied for different jobs, was shortlisted and interviewed for a few of them. Even this process ended up being tremendously painful emotionally as I somehow in the long run losing 2 close friends over it all. This part of the story is still hurtful.

Thank God there were friends and family who were there to support me through this emotional minefield....who knew what I was capable of....who knew how it was impacting me.... who literally saw me at my worst. .... who continued to encourage me to keep putting my neck out, to apply for different jobs, to continue with my writing, to keep paddling my canoe. Thank God they knew I could push through the mess, because when my job was cut I was alright. It didn't hurt as deeply emotionally as it did for others. I had been through too much prior to that.... the job cut seemed like a surface scratch in comparison. Knowing I was moving into another position, albeit temporarily, I was hopeful and glad to get out of the toxic work environment.

A month ago, the first day of my new gig, I received an email from a person I had been in touch with on and off for a year. She and I had met and worked together years ago at the College.... and now she's the Principal. I had held hopes that a teaching position would surface for me.... So, when her email popped up on my screen, I thought it was about this possibility. It wasn't. Instead..... she was getting in touch to inform me that a full time permanent counselling position had been approved and was I interested? WAS I INTERESTED????

Yesterday, I was formally offered the position and I enthusiastically accepted. Starting in July, I will be moving back to the College to set up counselling services.....from birth. It's mine to create.... from 20 years of hands on personal learning, with a city wide/provnice wide network, with counseling and facilitating skills, with my whole heart.

When I phoned home yesterday to touch base with my son after his school day, I told him the news.....

"Are you happy?" he asked

"Yes I am!" I replied.

"Good....I want you to be happy, Mom...."

It's been a rough ride for my whole family. My son's reaction and response spoke volumes.........my misery is theirs too. My happiness is felt by them as well.

Last evening, I headed down to the river to capture the evening light reflections as the sun went down. I watched two women dock their little boat after an evening fishing. I watched two men paddle upstream in their kayak right to the river's edge. And I took in the evening routine of a momma duck and her little ones head to the tall grass for the night after a day of learning ducklife skills. Their collective activities....calm and satisfying mirrored my own feelings and my own desire to grab a paddle and stern my canoe again into a cove I was destined to return to.

Life is good. And this turn of events....this little/big twist in my convoluted career path is bathed in the light of a blessing.

Dusk on the Saint John River

A tip of the hat

A wink and a nod

A soft shuffle exit

A touch of elegance before the final curtain

One last beautiful breath

captured in the smooth sound of Sinatra....

Melodic right down to the last croon.

Encore!

Nice and easy does it every time......

Bravo!

This week's theme at Carmi's place is dusk. These photos were taken a couple of weeks ago just up the hill from where i live. We are blessed to witness the glory of the sunset simply by looking out our window. But the best view is up on Springhill Road or down by the river's edge on an evening when the water turns to a pool of glass. Tonight, we are in for a stunner. You know, my dusk is someone's elses dawn. I like that thought. For more natural beauty, check out Carmi's blog. You're in for a colourful show.

Cointreauversational Questions and Answers....

I seem to be having a tough time pulling my writing thoughts together over the past couple of days.... short attention span....... other priorities ...... hovering in limbo waiting to hear some news related to my career (good news, but still waiting...) I suck at waiting. Just ask my family who make me wait for them at least once a day, and then stand back as my head explodes.

Tonight, Pip posted these questions on his blog and they intrigued me. They stirred up a bunch of golden thought threads I may tug on beyond here, where I can delve a little deeper into the secret "whys" and "how comes." As much as I share quite a bit of myself on this site, it is only the tip of the iceberg, some of which is still hidden from me. Questions like these provoke and poke, twist and braid, tug and pull at the golden threads..... unravel too. I like that process.

1. What colour would describe you interior right now?

A dark shade of purple.....the colour you see long after the sun has slipped beyond sight. I love the idea of mixing red with blue. Vibrant heat with Azure cool. Purple is the colour of royal contradictions. Paradoxical purple.... moving into dark.

2. What colour would describe your exterior you right now?

A much lighter shade of purple ...... though if you looked at the back of my neck you'd see red. I was gardening all afternoon and was slapped by the sun. No pain....just heat and it feels good and healthy.

3. What feeling is predominant right now?

My feelings seem to run the gamut these days. I blame whacky blasts of estrogen on top of a continued sense of being unsettled which makes me impatient, uncomfortable, doubtful on top of hopeful. But, if I had to pinpoint one predominant feeling right.at.this.moment as I reflect on the day?

Satisfied.....

4. Which human person is inside your head right now?

One of my oldest friends has been visiting me in my head tonight. Its a rare occasion when we have a chance to catch up, but its a rare day when I don't think of our friendship at least once. In fact, I am convinced that our thoughts are often simultaneous. This comforts me on many levels.

5. When was the last time you prayed?

I try to keep a prayer going all the time, and began to believe so after I read this quote by Frederick Buechner... "Everybody prays whether [you think] of it as praying or not. The odd silence you fall into when something very beautiful is happening or something very good or very bad. The ah-h-h-h! that sometimes floats up out of you as out of a Fourth of July crowd when the sky-rocket bursts over the water. The stammer of pain at somebody else's pain. The stammer of joy at somebody else's joy. Whatever words or sounds you use for sighing with over your own life. These are all prayers in their way. These are all spoken not just to yourself but to something even more familiar than yourself and even more strange than the world. "

When I really stopped and focused on a prayer was the other day. I was sitting in my van in the parking lot where I now work. I had been rushed and feeling discombobulated over all the changes in my work life. In order to calm myself, I sat quietly and repeated the words of St. Francis ..... as a way to seek some inner peace. It truly refreshed me.

6. When is the last time you wept?

Last night. I was exhausted and felt emotionally drained. It seemed like a cleansing. I slept soundly afterwards.

7. Describe the connection between 5 and 6?

Tears are never too far away from me, but I'm fine with them. They may make others feel uncomfortable, and its not that I don't care about making them uncomfortable, but I actually don't care if I make them uncomfortable. Sometimes tears hit me when I'm praying. This happens mostly when my cup is too full and they just spill out of that place.

Tears come from a place of joy too, or when I let my guard down in order to feel deeply when something profound occurs. This happened yesterday morning when a colleague was describing an amazing encounter she had over the weekend. Her stories often leave me with a rush of tears because she has such a strong spiritual side to her and can encapsulate it in a story that always moves me. I am blessed to be working closely with her every single day.

8. Name three activities which help you in your wholeness journey?

Writing, photography

and connecting with people .... counselling, facilitating, emailing, blogging, over dinner, just hanging out.

9. Say when you last actually participated in those activities?

Every single day..... as much as I can.

10. Will you think of a question for me and send it?

Yes..... and if you would like me to send you a question, leave me a comment and I will custom design one for you....!! And if you would like, you leave your answers to any of Pip's questions as a comment here. I would LOVE to read your thoughts....!

Pip? Here is your "cointreauversational" question my emerald friend..... :)
Is there a book you've read which impacted your way of thinking and living to a point where you felt an internal transformational shift?

"The greatest friend of the soul is the unknown..."

"Fundamentally, there is the great silence that meets language; all words come out of silence. Words that have a depth, resonance, healing, and challenge to them are words loaded with ascetic silence. Language that does not recognize its kinship with reality is banal, denotative, and purely discursive. The language of poetry issues from and returns to silence."John O'Donahue

simplicity

the mystic smiles the blues

his soul seeping out of his knowing eyes

he hears music others can't hear

and dances on sandy shoals

when night stirs secrets of tangled sorrows

wrapped in blessings.

others sense his unique aura

a warm glow emanates his wisdom

casting spells too delicate to approach

fascinated by their attraction to his otherworldliness

they stand at a distance afraid to come too close.

the angel in pensive wonder

watches the blue mystic gather broken shells along the shore

catches his body language

slumped shoulder wounds open

his slow pensive steps

lost in a shadow surrendered in serious contemplation.

Unaware he is being watched,

the blues flow out of him

sorting sorrows with God.

it worries the angel.....she sees through his own broken shell

a restlessness of complicated meanderings

confuse his soul

forcing his whole being to exude burden

answers, answers, answers....

reasons..........there HAS to be a reason

what does it mean?

his body is contorted in problem solving......

in figuring out spiritual equations

formulas for defining truth.

The angel feels deeply for her mystic wanderer

knowing she is responsible to watch over him,

she sends out a prayer to help ease this part of his journey.....

a prayer of simplicity

a prayer of love, unconditionally

a prayer asking for the walls to come down.....

she sends her own energy through her fingertips

in silent threads of silver

summoning ease to touch him at the shore.

when suddenly she begins to hear
comfort in the sound of one little boy singing with innocence and purity....

Jesus loves me still today,

Walking with me on my way,

Wanting as a friend to give

Light and love to all who live.

Yes, Jesus loves me,

Yes, Jesus loves me.

Yes, Jesus loves me,

The Bible tells me so.

The blue mystic,

known for his sage and insights

his charismatic energy

sought out for his spiritually awakened guidance

suddenly lifts his mournful head

and begins to look around at the beauty of the seashore,

the glistening of the waves lapping at his feet.
He watches the gulls soar and dive into the water

catches the sun tipped sails past the stone breaker

a smile returns to his face.....

His arms rise up into the air

as he lets his knees bend to the sand

as enlightenment flows into him through the suns rays.

On his lips are two simple prayer full words....

"Thank you."

Let us never forget the simplicity of faith.....caught in the hymn sung by an innocent voice. Being an adult is so complicated.....believing in God need not be.

**written for my two mystical friends who know some answers are found during mind clearing walks along the shoreline....**

covert yearnings.....

Hidden behind twilight's sight, she stood alone. Her unspoken sentiments veiled in cool cotton secrets, summoned an awakening of fragile pleasures beneath the evanescence of daylight. She longed to let her secrets seep out of her thoughts as a freefall offering into bliss.

Under the cascading birth of stars weeping from the night sky, she let her white shift slip into an ebony of evening lace, transcending the purity of her pale lipped innocence. Her covert spirit blushed in tender newness scented with the essence of crushed lavender and apple blossoms.

With a smile masking bodystatic anticipation she stepped across the threshold, pulled by the magnetic force of deepening longing. Her elegant movements transformed the air filled with humidity into the clarity of dizzying thinness. The ripe moment had arrived to taste the bittersweet nectar of unbridled love. There was no turning back.

As she was about to reach the soul piercing pinnacle of her heightened secrets, she inadvertently alighted upon a hard protruding root causing her to lose her delicate balance. Her secrets spilled out with a rollicking force, lost inside her tumbling heart until she landed splayed out flat on her back with a shuddering thump. It took her breath away and left her shaken to her core.

Up above, the birthing stars continued to surrender tears. She looked up to cast a secret wish as one gloriously shot across the night sky in front of the knowing moon.......

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is "covert..." For more covert offerings, check out their blog.....

lost and found.....

And if God is great and God is good why can't he change the hearts of men?

Well maybe God himself is lost and needs help

Maybe God himself he needs all of our help

Maybe God himself is lost and needs help

He's out upon the road to peace

Tom Waits

If God is lost, where does it leave us? Maybe being lost is where we need to be. I can't think of anyplace where vulnerability feels more raw can you? And isn't the key to enlightenment found in the deepwell echoing plea......"help me?" Maybe God being lost is His way of changing the hearts of human beings? Maybe we need to heed His message and wander a bit farther into the wild?
Vulnerability awaits. So does humility. Both are heart altering.

traces.....

• 

  Patterns of footprints layered under pine rich loam, left as a collective trace of shared repast. how many meals were share in this one spot?

• Exuberant voices captured by the limb awning above, stored like ancestral linen in a hope chest unfolded and spread out in remember whens.......

• How many have sat at that worn old picnic table surrounded by the sturdiness of the white pine and gazed out at the lake on a perfect summer day?
• how many have sat up late into the hot night drinking a beer with a friend, listening to the loon in the distance.....
• how many kids knelt on the benches, their fingers covered in white gooey glue and paint as they whiled away an afternoon creating popsicle stick cabins with wonky roofs and broken stick picket fences?
• a solitary early morning riser, hot coffee in hand......journal and pen. she watches another person paddle close along the shoreline lost inside a quiet reverence.....
• two in love, tucked in beside one another on the same side watching the sun go down as they shared their tentative confessions.....hoping time sleeps
• carved hearts and intials whittled into the repainted wood lasting traces connecting to the memory of scented pine
• silly songs, card games, laughter............lots of laughter echos and bounces back off the old branches of the giving trees.

Seasons come and go stretching over generations of footprints in the pine rich loam.....layers of traces mixed into the clay connections. It makes me want to sit down quietly to add my own to the memories left behind, and to listen to the joy nestled under the canopy.

no trace camping? there's no such thing.

come sit with me

lets slow down the day

lets escape the outside world rush

can you hear the loon? Ah, the lonely call beckons

Are you as smart as a 6th grader?

A few facts for tomorrow's Social Studies test on Human Rights..... translated here, but written in french on the fact sheet for the Grade 6 class. ....

10% of the world population lives with some form of physical or cognitive disability.

250 million children between the ages of 5 and 14 years work. Of that total, 120 million children work for a living.

Around the planet, there are 160 million children suffering from extreme malnourishment.

More than 1.3 billion people are paid less than a dollar a day.

Females represent 70% of the population living in extreme poverty.

More than 35,000 die each day from reasons associated with poverty.

Females living in poverty are in more danger to die under the age of 5 than boys.

There are 50,000 children living on the streets in Australia.

The most common form of violence is directed at females, predominantly in a domestic situation.

So, all you have to do is translate them and you'll be ready to see if you're as smart as a 6th grader in their first year in a french immersion class.

ps....great discussions on these facts btw. As I struggled to translate the french sheet into english in order to blog it, my son walked away with Naomi Klein's No Logo cracked open, barking out more stats with an incredulous tone in his voice. Time to learn about sweatshops and how they're linked to the products people covet. He's hooked! New awareness can be quite a motivating shocker can't it?! His qualities of innocence combined with new knowledge of what is SO VERY WRONG in this world holds the power to make changes.....

This is what I was trying to convey yesterday.... we need to revisit our own empathic and compassionate innocence and join the ranks of 6th graders who really want to make the world a better more equal place to live..... Our children hold the spark driven desire..... and we hold the critical thinking means.

Oh, and the picture above? His beautiful face visits my thoughts every single day as I wonder if he's having a loving one or not. Normally they are not, and he deserves better than that from us all.

innocence revisited....

Innocence touches delicately like a pale pink summer dress on soft skin. It's sacred purity belie the presence of soulknowing with a cloak of ignorance, when in fact it may hold the power of wisdom in its peaceful heart. Behind the bluewater eyes of innocence is a wellspring of ancestral memories wrapped in a hymn. Strong, hopeful tones set to the white lightness of a child's voice, it's essence seems almost ethereal.

Why do we believe that we leave it behind when we cross the threshold into adulthood, that somehow we forfeit it during our rites of passage? Do we lose touch with our innocence behind the thirsty pangs and the impulsive actions which drive us in our daily lives? Or does it only manifest in our early years and then evaporates into a faint apparition, replaced by the gravity of amplified guilt? Lose our virginity, lose innocence....is that it?

In adults, innocence languishes under the tidal shoals of forgotten thoughts and hesitates to reveal itself to us again. Once lost, forever lost? It hides behind the more attention seeking orchestrations of suffering. It gets lost in the shadows of doubtful ruminations. We love to see its freshness revealed in others, and smile every time it flashes its purity. So, why is it so difficult for us to look into the mirror and recognize the innocence we all carry inside us?

Innocence never vanishes completely. It lives inside every single human being, including the worst of the worst irreputable villains. We may not be innocent in what we do as human beings. Our actions may teem with guilty pleasures and/or indescribably unforgivable sins. But, the sense of innocence? The ethereal essence of white lightness? Listen for it. Look for it. Please. For within our innocence lies the key to the ancestral wisdom and harmony we need to turn this world around.

perfectly clear now...

Abundance isn't something we manufacture. It is something we tune into. And if our imaginations are allowed to be limitless....?

This morning the sunrise was so brilliant, it was blinding! A large male robin is perched on the railing of the back deck looking towards the sun. The light has caught his orangey red breast and has turned it into part of the sunrise. He looks so strong and full of himself....regal like. Though he is one of many birds in my yard this morning, he seems solely entranced by the light and colour and oblivious to his role of protecting his family's nest tucked under the deck.

As he stands alone, he seems to be absorbing as much of the sun's awakening energy as we humans try to do. I think it allows him to feel abundantly whole, as well as part of a bigger universe.

Actually, he's scanning the backyard looking for other orangey red breasted predators in an attempt to protect his babies. But, there was a moment when I believe he was reflecting on his birdness.


One within himself....One with nature. Abundance defined. Thank you Mr. Robin.

"as you think, so ye shall be...."

"If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavours to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in the common hours."

Thoreau

There is an intuitive place where thinking and feeling find one another and form a moment of unexpected focus. No words can match this "felt sense..." Instead, what you're left with is a vision........a picture or a symbol representing a personal dream or an obstacle in the way of fulfilling that dream. And if you were to take that initial vision a few steps beyond, it just may lead you to a vista beyond the line in the horizon.........to a place where the panoramic view is unlimited.

Our thoughts always seem to have boundaries........or perhaps it is just our inhibitions getting in the way of broadening the possibility of where our imagination can take us. We continue to step in a patterned mode, continuously repeating the same moves, the same actions even if we languish in a spiral going nowhere. Why? Because its comfortable. We are comfort seekers rather than wilderness seekers. Despite our awareness of what our needs are, or what our dreams look like, we rest easy within the confines of our bordered thinking....

Jesus said......."As you think, so ye shall be............"

Hidden potential.......what is yours? What are the changes and challenges which block you from responding to your gifts? What are you willing to do in order to reveal your hidden potential...in order to dream big? What do you need to nurture in order to move into the direction of what it is you want? How do we feed our thoughts with the passion we so often withold?

When was the last time you allowed your thinking to blend with your feelings to stretch yourself beyond the boundaries you have purposefully set up to protect yourself from escaping the tame and embracing the wild side? When we allow ourselves to focus on this type of travel, we experience the "felt sensing" moment where wisdom taps us on the temple.... where we transform into a spiritual being having a human experience.

Transformation......such a loaded word isn't it? I used to think it was an stand alone event which happened to some people connected to their religion and church. What i realize now is that transformation is an evolutionary process which may or may not be formalized through organized religion. It's a lifelong unfurling of personal growth and not a true destination endpoint. It is the type of journey which allows one to move beyond the boundaries of our defined self, of our form to advance beyond what we already know to meet, as Thoreau describes...."a success unexpected in common hours."

Eternal, infinite and life changing...this is what transformation is all about. If you are willing to be open to going beyond the original field of dreams and focusing on the place inside where the merging happens, you just never know where your intuitive nature will lead you....to a place of discomfort. To a place where uncertainty feels like your life undressed. To a place where the words are few but the dreams are open ended.....

*my thoughts after a great visioning day with the new team....***

one of a kind signs

You always wondered where paradise was located didn't you? Spencer's Island, Nova Scotia is most definately a piece of paradise to this family. Once a thriving ship building community along the shores of Greville Bay, a part of the Bay of Fundy, this little village has been the ancestral home of my husband since 1778. The Old Shipyard campground is located right along the beach, where the tides flow out farther than anywhere else in the world........ You can almost see the beach growing before your eyes..... or shrinking depending on the time of day. And the view? Spectacular!

The most famous ship built in Spencer's Island was the Mary Celeste. The above placque, attached to a cairn right beside the boat launch (and where the old wharf used to be) describes it's ghostly fate when it was found off the coast of Portugal with its sails up and no one aboard. This spooky story is best told after the sun has gone down on the Old Shipyard, sitting around a glowing campfire toasting marshmallows and the only lights are the flickering ones of the ships out in the bay..... For more on the Mary Celeste, check this out...

This week's photo theme is "signs"......Wanna see more? I invite you to visit Carmi's blog

i'm a happy enchilada....

There is a man whom I have never met face to face but who has been in my life longer than my husband and has followed me around wherever I've roamed. On days when I sorely needed some grounding and a little lightheartedness, I have ALWAYS been able to count on this man to put a legal/illegal smile on my face. In fact, this man impressed my husband so much when I introduced the two of them that I believe he had an impact on the fate of my ensuing marriage to my husband. He even told me so!

Well, it turns out this man is coming to town, and I plan to send him an email to invite him for dinner. It's time we met face to face....to sit on my back deck and swill a few beers and talk about "how the world goes round....one day you're up and the next you're down....it's a half an inch of water and you think you're gonna drown.... that's the way the world goes round...."
Or maybe we'll chat about "blowin' up your TV...and movin' to the country to plant and little garden and eat a lot of peaches and try to find Jesus on your own." OMG, what fun it would be to have John Prine for dins! I mean the man's gotta eat...why not at my house??

Unfortunately....tickets to his concert sold out faster than Leonard Cohen for God's sake, and we weren't one of the lucky ones to nab any of them!! So, we'll be heading to Saint John to catch his concert there. Personally, I blame Terry Seguin who BLABBED on and on and friggin' on his CBC morning for the past week and got the whole damn county all frothy about getting tickets! GRRRRR! (Terry, if John Hiatt happens to show up in this fair city, I will sabotage your microphone until I can get my hands on tickets....either that, or you're taking me with you!!!)

Despite my disappointment that I can't see Mr. Prine sing Fishin' and Whistlin'....and croon about the Angel from Montgomery....sing about his Grandpa who was a Carpenter in my own town....I am PSYCHED that I will be sitting pretty at the Imperial Theatre sometime in August soaking in the words and tunes of a one of a kind raconteur....

Next week?.....a whole new ballgame for ticket purchasing. The other man in my life ... my son, Sir Maxwell silver hammer....? He and I are going to attempt to secure two tickies to see McCartney in Halifax. Wish us luck! Chances are they too will sell out in 5 minutes or less. :)

A slice of Prine.....enjoy his song and his Happy Enchilada story.... ! He owns a piece of my heart this man....

help in math....

Little Zachary was doing very badly in math. His parents had tried everything...tutors, mentors, flash cards, special learning centers. In short, everything they could think of to help his math. Finally, in a last ditch effort, they took Zachary down and enrolled him in the local Catholic school. After the first day, little Zachary came home with a very serious look on his face. He didn't even kiss his mother hello. Instead, he went straight to his room and started studying.

Books and papers were spread out all over the room and little Zachary was hard at work. His mother was amazed. She called him down to dinner. To her shock, the minute he was done, he marched back to his room without a word, and in no time, he was back hitting the books as hard as before.

This went on for some time, day after day, while the mother tried to understand what made all the difference.

Finally, little Zachary brought home his report card. He quietly laid it on the table, went up to his room and hit the books. With great trepidation, his Mom looked at it and to her great surprise . Little Zachary got an 'A' in math!

She could no longer hold her curiosity. She went to his room and said, 'Son, what was it? Was it the nuns?' Little Zachary looked at her and shook his head, no.

'Well, then,' she replied, Was it the books, the discipline, the structure, the uniforms? WHAT WAS IT?'

Little Zachary looked at her and said, 'Well, on the first day of school when I saw that guy nailed to the plus sign, I knew they weren't fooling around.'

aglow

(sunset along the saint john river, may 2009)

"Just as in earthly life lovers long for the moment when they are able to breathe forth their love for each other, to let their souls blend in a soft whisper, so the mystic longs for the moment when in prayer he can, as it were, creep into God. "

Soren Kierkegaard

(thank you, friend for taking the time to find this quote for me....)

what is right? how do i get there?

(sunset from my front yard, may 2009, kodak instamatic 124)

I was told..
"We did the right thing."

contemplate, concentrate
choices abound, answers unfound
making a decison,
a sleepless indecision
why can't i settle down?

formulate, celebrate
say a vow, take a bow
formulation, transformation
move along with change......
tick, tock, tick, tock.......tell me how

certainty aligned?
uncertainty is blind...

you did the right thing....you really did.
yes...I did, didn't I?

rationalize, harmonize
last resort, no retort
ease the pain, swallow shame
wasted time, bitter crime
anger rising, temper short

tears expressed, such a mess
I did the right thing.....I think.
I did, didn't I?

Uncertainty causes stressssssssssss
uncertainty is life undressed

hesitation, protestation
saving grace, saving face
sad relief, fainting grief
lessen stress, its anyone's guess
when we finally find resolution.

back off, I need the space....
a whiskey soaked pace
'cause i ain't there yet.

WE DID THE RIGHT THING?
WHY DOES IT FEEL SO WRONG?

lonely fears, silent jeers
finger pointing....you're disappointing.....
deny, deny, deny
i'm trying to stay afloat here!

THESE are the best of times?
they're the only times i've ever known....

happiness, happiness,

it's the greatest feeling i want to possess....
repress, digress, eat less, wild guess, obsess, don a dress
humour seems pointless
or not....

intellectualize, harmonize
think before you leap
displace it all
suppress the fall
coping skills dont sleep.

Adaptation...
just another word for grieving....
one tearslippery rung at a time....
Why is it that most choices we make in life either don't feel to good, or don't live up to our expectations?
Why is it that some choices refresh old wounds?
Why is it that some choices hurt the ones we love even more?
Why does it takes so damn long to emotionally catch up with the brain driven decision???

Adaptation...learning how to cross thresholds into blue yonders takes practise I guess. Making some of life's decisions takes guts to recognize just exactly what need you are intending to fulfill....to know what you WANT...and then to know when to jump off the regret train, and move on.

you're doing the right thing
doing the right thing
the right thing
right thing
thing.....?

ahem....now what was that thing i did so right? Looks like I repressed it so deeply I can't even remember what it was all about.

ps.....this post was spurred on by this article...longitudinal research on how a healthy adaptation process, using effective (as opposed to neurotic, which we all know well....) coping mechanisms and problem solving skills can lead one to an emotional resolution, consequently will lead the way to a feeling of happiness. Or not.... The conclusion is yours to make.

disconnected

twilight trembles

in the ancient echos of misplaced souls
and turns inward
absorbing the fading colour of others
leaving disconnected murmers

of unfulfilled desire
filling the emptiness of my heart.

inside the ancestral din
i hear your voice
pulling me back from the lonely edge of darkness
into a pinebow creche
nestled in the tall grass
layered in the down of soft comfort

cradled in your arms,
i feel your lips softly brush my nape
your warm breath reminding me of my existence,
reassuring me i'm not one of the lost souls.


it is only then my sigh settles into the twilight
connected to the warmth of your kindness.



The prompt this week at Sunday Scribblings is "disconnected." For more interpretations, check out their blog.