I am ME.

Today, I'm taking my SELF back.

When you stopped loving me, I let you make me believe I was less than. 

When you told others lies about me, I let myself feel shame for something I did not do.  I stayed quiet.

I became smaller, quieter, less seen. 
I became fearful and timid.
I stopped believing in myself.
I questioned everything.
I felt unworthy, I did not matter.
I closed.
I died inside.

I let you snuff the SPIRIT of ME.  I let myself be censored, be shamed, be scorned and I let you break me. I let your fear shape me.  

My heart broke, my spirit followed. I existed.

You cannot hurt me any more.  I will not let you.

It stops today.

I am me - deal with it!

I matter.
I am strong.
I am loving.
I am deserving of love.
I am generous.
I am supportive.
I am kind.
I am ethical.
I am fun.
I am alive.
I am open.
I am wild.
I am enthusiastic.
I am encouraging.
I am vulnerable.
I am light.
I am loved.
I am me.
ME.

The eyes looking back at me are soft and the skin around them is puffy. The colour is faded, but the depth is like a bottomless pit. Her eyes are haunting - wounded, broken, stomped by the world and all its betrayals, so that the fight has left her.

How do I tell her it will be better, one day? How can I convince her that the faith in humanity she used to hold so dear still deserves her belief? How can I see the shell that used to hold a Spirit so full of life, so hopeful and vulnerable and loving, and not ache for the scars she carries every moment of every day? And worse than the scars is the despair of not having hope.

"Scars remind you where you've been, they don't have to dictate where you'll go" - it's a great quote. It sure does depend on the number, compoundedness, and frequency of the scars though.

So I will sit with her pain.  I won't move to hide it, or fade, or fix it.  I will BE with her, because she's hit the wall.  She will see that... even though she is scared, even though she feels she is not enough, even though she feels lost, even though she cannot see a way through the pain...  she is not alone, even if she feels alone.  Because sometimes, just having someone willing to BE with you... to BELIEVE in you... is enough to reignite a spark of self belief.  

It's called love, and in the words of my wise friend...  it's an ACTION WORD.

Weary

"It is what it is."

"What you resist persists."

"Feel what you feel, notice what you notice."

... phrases designed to help us cope, to accept things we cannot control, to remove pressure to do anything but be...

But when is it not so good to accept? When is it better to say NO, this is NOT ok?

Feel what I feel?

• I feel weary


• I feel as though I have very little control over my life


• I feel trapped


• I feel alone and yet I never have solitude


• I feel like peace eludes me most of the time


• I feel I can work to rise above it, I do, and get knocked down over and over


• I feel like my life is slipping away


• I feel like I must be missing something profound for life to be this way


• I feel like I'm failing my children


• I feel taken advantage of


• I feel unappreciated


• I feel like what I do is not enough


• I'm learning to believe that what I want is not relevant, that scares me


• I feel one decision may have started us on this road to chaos, and I don't know how to get back


• I feel like the fly at the window, who eventually ends up dead because he can't see another way


• I feel like every time we overcome the enormity of some of this, every time there is a glimmer of hope, something else happens to 'put us in our place'


• Today, I feel broken

-originally written 2010

Weary

It is an exhausting thing to feel like the buck always stops with you, like no matter what tasks get completed by others who help, the 'responsibility' for all of it lands firmly on you.

The question is always... is the dissatisfaction based on reality or perception. Does one discuss concerns, feelings, discontent and risk another's hurt, defense, offence or does one grin and quietly do more risking resentment? What is fair? What is right?

ala Pink Floyd

"If I show you my dark side

will you still hold me tonight?

And if I open my heart to you

show you my weak side, what would you do?"

Mama Mia Mammogram

I was a virgin... until today. My very first mammogram.

Can I just say....

OH
MY
GOD!!!!!

My sister said it was no big deal, didn't hurt, wasn't even that uncomfortable.

UHHHHH BULLSHIT!

and did I mention....

OH
MY
GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Breasts - at least those of any substance - are NOT made to be flattened.

Perhaps, if she stimulated the nipple, I might have been aroused enough that the pain didn't bother me! *laughing*

My question - for those of you who have, uh, ample material and have had such a test - is... how long will they ache for????

I need chocolate.

Fuck!

Where Have All the Stories Gone?

No one needs to remind me what I have lost with my Parents' passing. I miss them both each and every day. So much happens in my life I wish I could share. and I ache to hear the wisdom of life lived from them again.

But it's my children who are really missing out.

I realized when I went back east for a weekend whirlwind that was my Nana's 100th birthday, that what is profoundly missing in our lives is the stories.

I listened to my Aunts and Uncles tell what I call life stories - stories of what used to be, of laughter and fear and determination, stories that remind us what really matters in a world that seems to have lost its way. I listened to the laughter, I shared the tears and I FELT the life in them - the wisdom, the mistakes, the character that carried them through the tough times, the regrets, the moments of joy that I could taste just in the way their eyes lit up. I was quieter than I usually am, I tried to be a sponge, wanted to remember all of it.

They awaken in me a wishing I had listened more carefully to the details of the stories that need to be told and retold, the ones that paint for the listener the essence of the teller and the subjects and bring us together, past present future, the humanity of family.

We are a tribe - the belonging of shared history and futures entwined. And, given the events of the last year, the fragility of it all became glaring.


It also pointed out the need to cultivate those relationships that are real and true and discard those which do not nourish - even within family!

I'm still stewing on this story thing... uh huh...

*sigh of relief*

I have arrived at that place I was so impatient to reach.

I have finally let you go. What you think, what you want, what you feel is no longer of any concern to me.

I do not feel my body tense when your name is mentioned. When I hear of some judgement you have made of me, it doesn't... penetrate, doesn't hurt. The ache is gone.

The entire situation is no less sad, it just... IS. And what it is most... is... not mine.

*smiling*

Peace.

It's Not Working!

the meditation...

ya...

not so much...

with the....

working!

*chuckling*

Morning Meditation

Wise Ones, passed on before me: grant me the serenity,courage and wisdom:

• to accept what IS
• to deal with her with compassion and grace while still standing strong
• to hold my head up without putting her out of my heart, as I am clearly out of hers
• to respect my Self without making another wrong
• to remain open
• to let go

It is.... what it is

I'm trying to just.... BE with what is.

My logical mind, my ego, is loud though huh? It wants justice, it wants to scream loudly that it isn't fair, it wants others to stand up and say "this is not right damn it!".

Why is that? Why is it that I have yet to be able to make you irrelevant? It isn't that I really care what you think. It isn't that your being absent from my life has left a void. I don't still miss you and want your friendship, I already let that go.

Is it that I've let the person go but not the hurt? What is this ache about, really?

It is a basic human condition to want to be loved and accepted. I want to be loved and accepted. I am neither loved nor accepted by you.

When we are shunned, we want to know why. I do not know what has allowed you to discard me like I was nothing. The contempt in your eyes is piercing, your inability to make eye contact for longer than a second or two is revealing, and as hurt and angry as I am, I do feel pity for you.

We want to know why because it helps us to accept the reality. Also, it's how we learn, how we assess.... What is my part? How did I contribute to this outcome? What could I have done differently? What might I choose differently next time, or not?

What is my struggle? I want to know. I want to ANSWER whatever ACCUSATIONS you have. I feel like I'm chasing a ghost. I fear being judged by people we both love based on untruths, and I want ALL of this to be out loud and in the light. I want to be held accountable for my actions and who I am - not your fears/feelings - untruths turned to fact. I want transparency.

There's that justice thing again huh?

The reality is that I may never have the opportunity to do that. The reality is that people will believe whatever they choose based on their own experience in life and with me.

Accepting or not accepting what IS does not change anything except the level of torment I'm living with. What IS simply IS. How I feel about it, how I choose to deal with it, is what determines my suffering or not.

So knowing all that intellectually, and believing it spiritually, why is it I am currently unable to let go completely?

The ego craves justice because we believe justice will help us let go - of the person, the situation, the pain. The catch? There is no way AROUND the pain - the pain.... IS. And the only way to truly let go and find peace, is to stop trying to fight what is - feel the betrayal, the fear of not being enough, the uncertainty of who will stand in the fire and who will shrink back, the ache of loss.

I have to grieve the belief I held that this is not something you would do. You have done it, are doing it. That... IS. I realize what I believed to be true of you, was not correct or is no longer true. The betrayal I feel is based on my perception that we had a mutual love and friendship for each other, since revealed to have been quite a mistaken perception. I need to learn to trust myself again.

So I'm not yet at that complete disconnect and let go place. But maybe I can be at 'I release it to be what IS without constantly trying to make it something else'. Maybe I can just BE, just notice and feel without fighting it so much, without trying with such desperation to make it something other than what it really is.

I think I've arrived at acceptance.

I'm beginning to let go, I can feel it. After a year of trying to understand, trying to obtain information about why you have discarded me... I am starting to disinvest. Over time, what will happen is that I will no longer care why or what caused it. It simply will not matter... in time.


D pointed something out to me:

When your husband began acting strangely, I was there.

When you believed your husband (my brother) lied and cheated on you, I was there.

When your husband left, I was there.

When you needed help talking to your husband about your children, I was there.

When you needed someone to believe in you, I was there.

When you needed money, I gave it to you.

When your son was in the hospital, I was there.

The next time, it will not be you I am there for - my energy will be only for the children.

I will find a way to let go. because the survival of my Spirit requires it.

My Dad...

• had a Buddha belly, usually brown from the sun
• loved to laugh and found humour all around
• was as grounded a soul as I have ever known
• rarely got really angry - I only remember him yelling once
• loved
• was open about his mistakes, genuine
• did better when he knew better
• taught me about integrity.... what you do when no one is looking and you know you can't get caught sill leaves you to look yourself in the mirror, leaves you knowing even if no one else does.... so make your choices with that in mind and peace will be yours
• could FART! oh my god
• valued simplicity in his life, was not materialistic though he did achieve a comfortable affluence
• taught me that contentment is something inside and can exist if you live in a shack or a mansion
• did everything in his life by... just doing it
• was strong, made me feel safe
• was an amazing Grandpa to my eldest (the others didn't get to know him)
• taught me that laughter was a powerful thing
• was loyal, compassionate, and generous
• I miss him every day

I want to live fully awake

from Oriah's book The Call, page 32

"Walking asleep, moving in the world disconnected from our essential core, can be dangerous; it means our choices are based not on an accurate picture of what is but on what we want or fear is true. At best, actions based on an inaccurate picture of what is are unlikely to succeed in creating the change we desire. At worst, they will create greater suffering."

and

"Beyond the obvious choices to move away from what is by using a variety of substances – food, alcohol, nicotine, drugs, caffeine – the culturally preferred way of making sure we don’t wake up is to keep ourselves perpetually exhausted with constant activity, endless work, and the consumption of overwhelming amounts of information: to DO continually."

Taking A Page...

from those Dixie girls...


"I'm through with doubt
there's nothing left for me
to figure out
I've paid a price
and I'll keep paying"

What a difference a day makes!

Tuesday... my car was crunched while parked on the street by my work....hit and run - fucker.

Today.. the first customers of my day... a truck full of fire fighters. Damn! Like it wasn't already HOT outside. NUMMY!!!!!

*evil grin*

My Father's Eyes

Nine years and still not a day goes by I don't think of you, wish I could talk to you, ask what you think, want desperately to hug you.

Not one day.

And, I am reminded of you often by what remains... *smiling*

Little John - K - is JUST LIKE YOU. . He has your dimples, your smile, the glint in your eyes. His Spirit is like you too - strong, compassionate, and damn the boy can hug. Papa, you'd be SO proud of him.

I ache for your wisdom and you are still the measure of integrity for me....What would Dad do? What would Dad say? What compassion can be found here that I'm missing? How would Dad deal with this?

And that "Man in the Mirror" thing you taught me is still how I govern my actions and what I teach the boys.

I miss you every day. I love you Papa.

Perfect Timing...

My husband found me last night while we were doing different things, to share with me something he heard from Wayne Dyer:

*

I would rather be loathed for who I am than

loved for who I'm not

*

Mr. Dyer said in one sentence what I was trying to say down there in the "Faithless" post. It's his affirmation for dealing with family drama. Fascinating huh? *chuckling* It's a simple sentence, simple message. Simple isn't the same as easy, but there is a huge peace in that kind of simple truth.

*

I will not be someone I'm not so you are more comfortable. Deal with it.

*smiling*

It's a strange thing to be faced with an attack on character, based not on fact, but on a feeling.

My very best friends are those who can call a great big BULLSHIT when required. I need that. I'm ...uhmmm... a rather strong individual, kinda passionate about my views... I need people around me who don't get bowled over, who get up in my face when necessary.

I listen, I assess, I determine if perhaps I need to suck back and reload, or if I'm still convinced of my position. I like debate, I want to be challenged. But regardless, my heart intends help not hurt.

When you are disparaged, when your person is attacked and hear through a third party that someone who claims to love you has an issue with you but doesn't value the relationship enough to say something to you, it's tough to put in perspective huh?

Attacks on character can shake you. Indirect attacks are harder still. I went through a questioning time, where I didn't trust my instincts, my perceptions.

My integrity was in question, my intentions... and it required my questioning myself to determine if I had, indeed, wronged someone. I had to be willing to assess what was in my heart, what I said, what I did... I had to be willing to ask those who were there if their perception matched - in any way - those of the accuser.

I recognize I can be overbearing. I know I talk through stress. I can completely see how this may be irritating to some. Last time I checked, people who love each other SAY something in a situation like that. Let's practise together:

"hey C, you've been talking for 20 minutes straight, shut up will ya?" in a playful but I mean it tone

or... perhaps...

" I know you feel strongly about this, I appreciate you love enough to say so and to ask questions, but I'm kinda overwhelmed with input at the moment, so can you back off please?"

There. That wasn't so hard was it?

Brilliant Lyrics

SOAR, by Christina Aguilera

When they push when they pull, tell me can you hold on
When they say you should change can you lift your head high and stay strong
Will you give up, give in, when your heart's crying out that it's wrong
Will you love you for you at the end of it all

Now, in life, there's gonna be times when you're feelin' low
And in your mind, insecurity seems to take control
We start to look outside ourselves for acceptance and approval
We keep forgettin' that the one thing we should know is...

Don't be scared to fly alone, find a path that is your own
Love will open every door it's in your hands, the world is yours
Don't hold back and always know, all the answers will unfold
What are you waiting for, spread your wings and soar

The boy who wonders is he good enough for them
He's tryin' to please 'em all but he just never seems to fit in
Then there's the girl who thinks she'll never ever be good enough for him
She's tryin' to change and that's a game she'll never win

In life there's gonna be times when you're feeling low
And in your mind insecurity seems to take control
We start to look outside ourselves for acceptance and approval
We keep forgettin' that the one thing we should know is...

Don't be scared to fly alone, find a path that is your own
Love will open every door it's in your hands, the world is yours
Don't hold back and always know, all the answers they will unfold
What are you waiting for, spread your wings and soar

In the mirror is where she comes face to face with her fears
Her own reflection, now foreign to her after all these years
All of her life she has tried to be something besides herself
Now time has passed and she's ended up someone else with regret
What is it in us that makes us feel the need to keep pretending
Gotta let ourselves be

Don't be scared to fly alone, find a path that is your own
Love will open every door it's in your hands, the world is yours
Don't hold back and always know, all the answers they will unfold
What are you waiting for, spread your wings and soar

Don't be scared to fly alone, find a path that is your own
Love will open every door it's in your hands, the world is yours
Don't hold back and always know, all the answers they will unfold
What are you waiting for, spread your wings and soar
Don't wait, no more
You can soar
Spread your wings and soar
Don't wait, no more
Spread your wings and soar
So What you waiting for?
Don't wait......
Whoa!......
Don't wait, no more......
Don't wait......
Don't Wait...

Alone With Truth

One of my favourite quote type things (I don't know if I have the exact wording correct and I have not been able to find who to attribute the quote to, thus the 'quote type thing') is:

"Extraordinary circumstances do not make heroes or cowards, they simply unveil them to the eyes of men"

True huh? We are revealed when we are in extraordinary circumstances, when trauma, pain, fear, even joy are so extreme that our ability to keep up appearances fails. Then, how we feel and WHO we are becomes apparent.



This poem is in the same vein. It's a little dated in it's wording, but I do love the message:

The Man in the Glass - Author Unknown

When you get what you want in your struggles for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to a mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.
For it isn't your father or mother or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass,
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.
Some people might think you're a straight-shooting chum
And call you a wonderful guy.
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum
If you can't look him straight in the eye.
He's the fellow to please, never mind all the rest
For he's with you clear to the end
And you've passed your most dangerous test
If the guy in the glass is your friend.
You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.

So my Sister sent me this... I cried

You

You caught me when I fell and kept me from hitting the ground.

You held me there and comforted me in my pain.

You built me up, little by little, until I slowly was able to stand, leaning on you still, but stronger.

You supported and protected me. You encouraged, defended, advised, and loved me despite my weakness, failings, and misspoken words.

You cared for me.

You were and are "there" for me.

I know I am not alone.

Because of you I am at peace -- with myself, with my past, and with my present.

Because of you I am growing stronger every day and know that I am whole and will be able to face the uncertainties that lie ahead.

You sheltered my soul.

You helped me find my spirit.

You mended my heart.

C, you saved my life.

I love you. And it feels so good to know that you love me too.

L

Exercise

I am not interested in....

What I really want is...

Go ahead, finish the statements. Again. And again.

This is something sometimes asked of participants in retreats/workshops Oriah Mountain Dreamer leads. It's a tool, used to remove layers. We get buried in layers, don't we? I mean, our western world piles them on everywhere we turn - TV media, advertising, billboard, magazines - all telling us what we should be, what we should aspire to, what we should want. So what we TRULY want in the deepest corners of our souls, can get lost, buried in layers.

I'm going to do this exercise today. I think (or like to think) I'm a little less buried than some - I don't buy into the keeping up with the Jones mentality - but there is no question I'm affected by the programming of our world.

I'm curious to see where this exercise leads me and what revelations might await!

"I want to know if you can be faithless, and therefore trustworthy"

-from The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer



Faithless: Willing to break an agreement previously made in order to be true to your own soul.

This is not an easy thing to do. Oriah says it's not "comfortable'.
She's right.
It isn't.

But, if we value truth in our lives, then there are times we have to make a decision to be true to ourselves even if another will see it as betrayal and be hurt. The alternative is to pretend you feel/want differently and betray yourself instead.

I can be faithless.
I do not take it lightly.
It has a price.
There is cost.
Sometimes a huge cost.

I would rather have a few impeccable relationships of depth and meaning than any in which I am required to compromise who I am or where pretense is the priority rather than substance. I want to stand in the fire, I want those I love to stand with me. There is no in between - either you will stand in the fire or you won't.

My goal is not to make things appear OK while burying the magnitude of hurt between us, it is to actually be OK. This cannot be accomplished by one person in a relationship, it requires both parties to be willing to truly see themselves and the other - in all our humanness - and work through the details that lead us back to OK.


I know that what you chose in that moment, and what you seem to be continuing to choose, came from a place of fear. I have compassion for the wounded soul that in those moments of trauma needed someone to blame because facing the reality was too much to carry. I can forgive that in those moments you chose to blame me. What I cannot understand is that you have not - now that time has passed since the trauma - reassessed... self assessed... investigated the facts to see if, perhaps, you judged too quickly and in contradiction to the truth.

And I know I have my own humanness, my own ways that are not for everyone, my own human failings. I believe my 'sins' as you listed them, are all things that could have been addressed quickly and easily with a simple conversation. I think your trouble with me is much less about these 'sins' and much more about fear of your own demons and, if you're honest with yourself, a lack of respect for who I am, which you are absolutely entitled to but have yet to own.

My perception is, I'm sure, very different than yours. From where I stand, you were judge, jury, and executioner to me without the benefit of any investigation into the assumptions you made or even the courtesy of a conversation with me about your concerns. Rather, you talked to others whom we both love about the conclusions you jumped to in a moment of fear. And you felt (feel?) justified in doing so. During that time and as a result of it, I was unwelcome in my own family, an outsider. You will either hold on to your blame - accurate or not - or you will desire our both investigating the truth - of the facts and of our mutual humanness.


So where does my being faithless come in? In order to be true to myself, I cannot continue to attend the big family functions and just... pretend. You seem to want to continue as if nothing has changed. For me, a great deal has changed. I saw a side of you that makes judgements in an instant without regard for fact or reality. I was discarded... collateral damage of the war you fight with your demons and/or a desperate attempt to hide from them.


While I knew the part of you that jumps to conclusions and loved you anyway, I had no idea you were capable of turning these conclusions into fact without turning back, without being willing to look at the details and the possibility of error. I find that scary. Knowing that, I do not trust you. Unless we choose to face this out loud together, I fully expect that when the alternative of facing some current challenge is too hard for you, I would once again be the scape goat, be thrown under the bus.

I am not capable of pretending and I do not want to teach my children that pretending is an acceptable choice when dealing with hurts in relationships. I am not willing to spend vacation times in a setting where I cannot freely be myself, where I feel unwelcome, not valued, not respected. My idea of family is quite different than that.

So, we will not be attending.

I'm still working through the fall out emotionally. I do not claim victory or righteousness. Far from it - this is all very sad. I do not hate you, nor do I wish you ill. I am hurt, still stunned at what strikes me as a shocking, mind boggling circumstance. I worked hard to not put you out of my heart. I'm still working on holding you in it - it will take time.

I stood in the center of the fire with you when others did not. I did not shrink back. I stood up when the pain in your life was so severe you could not. I sacrificed a great deal for you. You either see that, value that, or you don't. That fire is yours now.

What If?

Maybe it's meant to be a struggle? Maybe we are supposed to be floundering, bashing against the rocks in a sometimes futile swim upstream? I never believed this before - I suppose I don't now, it's just a need to understand.

But, fuck if I know. I wrote here once that the older I get the less I know.

I used to know contentment. There was this quiet little center of me that was unwavering. Even if trauma arose, which it did, there was this quiet knowing inside. I don't have it now, that contented peace inside.

I want desperately to feel that again. It breeds a sense of being capable, a sense of empowerment, and a peace for clear thought and being. I think what scares me the most, is the thought of resignation to not ever having it again.

For a woman who has spent her entire life believing that we create our world, our lives - I am searching for how I am 'here' in my life. How is it that chaos and lack of peace and a general sense of not being able to keep head above water has taken up residence in my life? And it isn't in only one area of my life, it's everywhere I look.

I'm tired. That fly trying to get through that window in the house didn't die for lack of want or lack of trying, he died because he couldn't see another way, so he just kept trying what he knew.

What if what I know isn't enough?

The Fly

He's flying along in the clear blue yonder. He has a goal. He was on his way, or so he thought. Then, swoosh through an open door, and though he is unaware, he's in your house. He flies about in what seems a very purposeful way. He doesn't even really know he's off course yet. He's just flying.

The realization that something isn't right hits him when he hits the glass of your window at full flying speed and, with a thud, drops down to the sill stunned with a WTF going through his head.

He can SEE the yonder. It's right THERE for Godsakes! He thinks to himself 'I'll try again'. Wings buzzing like crazy he tries again. Then again. And again. He can see what he wants, but he can't seem to get there no matter how hard he tries.

He's no quitter though huh? He keeps at it. Perseverance, determination, he thuds on over and over and over. There's no lack of work ethic here, nosiree!

Time passes, he grows weary, his head hurts, he's discouraged and eventually - exhausted - he succumbs. But he sure did fight the fight.

His reality is limited huh? It's limited by his perception, by his paradigm I think they call it. He can't know that if he just flew around the side of the window a few inches, there's an open door which would allow him to fly back to yonder.

I feel like that fly - endlessly trying with a sore head, but getting nowhere and questioning whatever limited thinking is keeping me stuck.

White Flag

There are times when there just isn't any fight left in us.

I miss the way he held my hand
I miss how he believed in me, to his core, without the slightest doubt
I miss his "It'll all work out" smile and the way his eyes... loved
I miss how safe I felt with him here
I miss my Dad

Moments Past

When I was a little girl, I used to sit under the table as all the family women - in sensible shoes and stockings with Kleenexes stuffed up the cuffs of their cardigans or sometimes into the strap of their bras, tipped n tailed beans from the garden.


They'd natter on about whichever current family scandal was abrew, they'd talk about aches n pains, they'd whitter about which child would be best served by a good swat upside the head, what the tea was like, the price of bread and the state of the world.


I'd listen, giggling to myself when I heard damn or bugger. I'd reach my small hand slyly up from under the table to pinch some of the already pared beans to crunch on. Sometimes I'd do this without notice, sometimes a mysterious hand would provide a handful to my smaller one, and sometimes, it'd get it smacked. If the first reaction was a smack, I'd try another area of the round table. I just couldn't always tell by the shoes or stockings, which of the women was which.


If I forgot to bring something to play with, I'd use rocks, only they wouldn't be rocks in my mind, they'd be shape shifters or magic jumping rocks or rock creatures and I'd play with them like I would Barbies.

If I was quiet enough, and they forgot I was under there, sometimes I'd get to hear the really good gossip -whose husband was caught shamefully with the trollop from town, or how the girl up the road has come up pregnant. Such things would never be talked about 'in front' of me, but in my imaginary magical world under that table, I got to be part of the grown up world, shielded by the table cloth but still in the know and feeling like I was one of the women in some way.

There was an innocence then - not just because of my youth, the WORLD was more innocent then. What is common place now was shocking then - shocking like stop you in your tracks and make you shudder shocking.

Families were extended - Grandparents, wrinkly Great Aunts who squeezed pudgy cheeks and left sloppy trails on your face from wet kisses, old men who smelled funny, and cousins gallore.

There was a bread winner and a home maker. Roles were clear and life was simpler. Well.. from here, looking back it certainly seems that way. We have a way of romanticizing that which feels out of reach, but I think at the very least, the pace was slower, even if life wasn't easier.

Seeking and Peaceful

Many moons ago, a psychic told me I was a seeker. I have endless questions about life, living, the mystery of the universe, connection, the human condition. The word "why" passes over these lips like you'd expect from a 3 year old encountering the world for the first time.

There have been times in my life when the relentless questions have left me exhausted and confused. Even after some answers are revealed, there is still mystery all around us - it's part of the wonder of living huh?

Lately, I'm no less filled with questions than usual, but I am much more.... at peace. I feel as though I'm in transition, in the process of transforming - though how and what, I cannot yet say... but I'm sure looking forward to it. *chuckling*

Rituals

I generally get up between 4:45am and 5:00am each work day morning (depending on how many times I hit the dreaded snooze button!) to meditate. I started earlier this year. I've gone periods of time when I haven't - a day or two, sometimes a week or two - but I always seem to come back to it. I experienced the benefits early on - calmer over all, more likely to be naturally positive in my approach to life, slower to frustrate.



Some days my mind quiets easily and there's a funky zen state that happens, like the moments just before you fall asleep. Other days, my thoughts are persistent and loud, so stillness more elusive. Still, even on the not so good days of meditation, there's this powerful peace about it all.



I light a candle, and incense. Sometimes I have music, sometimes I open the sliding door and listen to the leaves dance or the rain fall. But always, there is something... sacred about it.



The other thing that's become a bit of a ritual is morning coffee with my husband. Our three boys and two dogs make for a busy and noisy house, - full of life - laughter, squabbling siblings, raunchy electric base or guitar wafting up from the basement, barking dogs, squeals of delight and conflict. So, at about 6:00, after I'm ready for work and while the house is still quiet, we sit in the same peaceful space I meditate in, enjoy a coffee together and talk for about a half hour.



There's something grounding about these two rituals, personally and in terms of our.... coupledom - is that a word? *laughing* It is now.



The pace of the world is out of control and there's always so much to juggle that it sometimes feels impossible to keep up and not drop balls. These two simple things have empowered my husband and myself. I'm excited to see what other benefits will come.

Let It Rain

It absolutely POURED rain last night. I fell into dreamland with the sound of big fat rain drops landing on then dripping off of the leaves on the trees in the wooded area behind us. I was blustery and the downpour would surge then calm then surge again. It was truly heavenly to fall asleep to.

I do love the rain.

Choices

I know I've been delinquent. Much MUCH has happened, as often does in a year of a person's life huh? I need to do this more. I need the outlet - creative and practical. I need to read y'all more too - much has happened for you too, as I can see from the stop ins I make when I steal a moment. You are wise.

Things happen in your life sometimes that challenge the core of who you are. You find yourself asking questions about your true motivations and if there is a carefully constructed reality surrounding you or if you really DO look at the world eyes open. I'm still sorting this one.

Someone special keeps referring to the sfbb - my husband is reading one too (wonder if it's the same one). We're also exploring (or re-exploring) Tolle's newest book and others like it - The Four Agreements, The Invitation, The Dance.

Peace.
It feels good to be back.

I can't believe the date down there

Yikes !

That's a long time ago, that last post

I am so fortunate! Each day when I come to work, I drive through a rain forest. A fucking rain forest - it's gorgeous. Massive trees older than dirt, moss and vine covered... magnificent.

Today... the way my kids make me laugh til I can't breathe - amazing little creatures!

My cup runneth over!

The Man in the Moon is SMILING!

He IS!

AT MEEEE!

Today on the way to work, I looked up and there he was.

I've seen sliver moons, quarter moons.... but I've never seen the nose, smiling eyes, and grin that I saw today.

Phenomenal.

I'm blessed!

Popcorn.

That's today's.

Not air popped, not microwave

Actual pot popped in oil popcorn

With butter

Real butter

and

Salt

Nummy!

Catch Up

Ooops. fell a little behind in this gratitude thing! *laughing*

Soooo... 6 things....

• the fabulous cranberry scones I get at the coffee shop (it's like eating a tree first thing in the morning, holy fibre batman!)
• almond oil - the best skin softening agent known to man
• sweat peas and sunflowers - my favs!
• delightfully coloured file folders - cuz didn't it get painfully boring and bland looking at ivory all day?
• cruise control - makes rocking out like a spaz much easier *giggling*
• melt in your mouth creamy smooth delectable orgasmic chocolate

OK - I think I'm all caught up now!!

Cheers

Testosterone Fan I am I am

Today it's those fabulous male customers who brighten my day with flirty banter. It's fun, good for the ego, and gets those happy endorphins vibrating all over the bod!

*grin*

ala C

Each player of this game starts off with ten weird things or habits or little known facts about yourself. People who get tagged must write in a blog of their own ten weird things or habits or little known facts.

• I had an extremely religious phase in grade 9 (9th grade in the US) - and I do mean EXTREMELY! I was full blown born again - complete with the superiority complex and condescending attitude for anyone who didn't hold the same opinion. I was gonna save the world, bible in hand

• I was 'the fat kid' in school, until about grade 10 - hence the end of my religious phase *laughing*

• I am a whore for the perfect bite - every bite counts. If I get to the end of a sandwich and the mayo didn't quite reach there, or it's missing ham - I'll get up and do what needs to be done to fix it. If that final forkfull of salad is naked because the dressing missed it, that can (and will) be corrected. If I'm at the end of a meal and that last bite needs... salt, so be it. My Husband laughs at me, but hey.... the perfect bite is a beautiful thing!

• I have a crooked pinkie finger. It's a family thing, my Dad had it, my sister has it, my nieces and nephews have it.

• I'm really not fond of talking on the phone. I mean, I do it because it's better than no contact, but I really don't like it.

• I have a secret desire to own and operate one of those metaphysical-funky spiritual-occult type stores.

• There are some foods I eat in an odd way. When I eat an O Henry, I eat from the outside in, until all that is left is that long nougaty cylinder in the center. When I eat pop corn, I chew off all the crunchy bits leaving only the soft fluffy part - I call them melties - which I eat last. Eating a banana, I will scrape my teeth lightly up the outside, removing the outer portion and leaving the slimy looking inside portion still to enjoy. When I eat a big juicy dill pickle, I use my jaw to crush the flesh inside, suck the juicy pulp out, then eat the shell last.

• I have a bit of a fetish for the cold wet of a dog's nose. Now now... not like that (I put that sort of thing on the other blog)! I just like how they feel, so I'll snuggle up with my Koda and run my finger gently around his nose. Well....! the instructions said WEIRD things!

• I am with earrings as Imelda was with shoes - you really CAN'T have too many!

• I can (and do) serve drinks with my breasts.

I Got The Music In Me

So that chick you see boppin all around when you're driving behind her...

That one who is just givin it hell singing her face off at stop light even though you're laughing your ass off watching her...

The girl doing the air drum solo in between shifts...

The one who smiles at you while she completely rocks out...

I'm that girl.

Today.... I'm grateful for music and the way it fill us, lifts us, connects us to our humanness, allows us to feel free. Oh... and I'm grateful for a kickass stereo too! *grin*

CS Lipstick... uh huh

Today? Long-wear lipstick. I mean the kind that doesn't come off when you.... eat, drink... suck. Goddamned marvellous shit - just sayin'.

I have been ill with something flu like. It is the most violent, brutal stomach illness I have ever experienced, and given I spent the weekend in bed, I am profoundly grateful for an incredibly comfortable cozy bed.

Every morning....

when I get to work, my coffee cup has been emptied of the previous day's goo, cleaned, and placed on my desk for today's cup o java. It's one of those little kindnesses that make me smile. Thank you K.

Sally Girl

Yup, today I'm grateful for the amazing Goddess of Hair and Style who graciously transforms my hair each month.

Rain

Yup, today it's rain. Love it.

Today... NAPS! I'm grateful for the most delightful nap.

And today....

the sun came out. Bright glittery in the sky, warm soothing, sunglassess required.

Thank you!

Today, I am very aware of being truly loved by my husband.

Wake up Juice

Today I'm grateful for COFFEE! Double Double for those of you who speak Canadian, though I do prefer deep brown sugar.

God Bless Coffee!

Time and energy are in short supply. I'm tired. But... I have decided I will AT LEAST note something I'm grateful for each day, as it moves me, from big things to tiny seemingly irrelevant things.

Today, I am grateful for that lovely family of black bunnies that feed on the grassy patch near the freeway. Everyday that I come to work, I pass them. And everyday I see them, they make me smile.

Koda

has GROWN!!!! He is 66 pounds at six months!!!!!!!!!

And... we have a new addition - a wee little lost soul who now has a whole family loving her. We call her Cassie (the kids' choice) and she might weigh 10 pounds - maybe!

Soo... next we'll be building a fence *laughing*

My Writing Delinquency

We have been without a computer at home for some time now, and work doesn't provide much privacy, so posting there isn't easy. I will be more present now we have a new computer. And I'm LOVING the big wide screen monitor!

Koda

So that sweet little baby bear I brought home a few months back is now a whopping 66 pounds!

Pictures to follow soon.

Enchanted Captivated Stimulated Curious

"She thought about what she had, where she was centered, central, the centerpiece, and why she came where she was none of those. She knew her place on the altar but shook off worship like she did leers, jeers, and gaping dumbass boy stares, preferring instead the secrets of the confessional and the darkness behind the curtain. Those who wanted to build her up had no idea she wanted to be taken apart. Then put back together. "

- Edge wrote that up there, posted it almost a year ago.

When Edge wrote this, when I read the words the first time, waves washed quietly over me as I sat breathless. I read it over and over. I went back to it day after day. I've no idea who my dear friend was holding in his heart when he wrote those words, or if perhaps it was a 'collective of women' that inspired it. What I do know, is how it held me then, holds me still.

I cut and pasted those words up there, then printed them. The little paper is folded umpteen times like it was stolen from an origami graveyard. It whispers to me to experience it again. It screams loudly if I haven't for too long. The outside folds are darker now from wear and grime, the edges curl some, there's a tiny rip because of how often it has been unfolded, read, refolded and tucked away in my wallet in the 007 pocket no one else looks in.

I touched me. It touches me still. It makes me smile. It makes me melt. It smacks of all sorts of things that I identify with. It perplexes me and I relate to it all at once. It both fills me and leaves me hungry. I'm drawn to it. Still.

It is very mysterious to me, I have not unraveled it's secrets. I might never. I think maybe it raises questions deep inside the core of me that I haven't delved into completely. I find the whole thing fascinating.

Fascinating.

Edge's post today stirred me. (He does that ya know!)

I read it and went back to work, but his words stayed with me. The story he told enveloped me and took me back to a time past but still with me too.

I remember like yesterday those days. I remember the doctor talk, the white coats and rich shoes. I remember the tubes and machines and bags hanging - some for fluid going in, some for fluid going out. Clear. Red. Yellow.

I remember my Mother's eyes.

I remember people looking away, fidgeting because the discomfort of not knowing what to say was unbearable for them.

I knew from the day I got that phone call - before they even knew what it was - that this unknown thing was going to be what took her from us. I knew. It wasn't that I didn't have hope - of course I hoped. But in the depths of me, was a voice preparing me for letting go. I never did, really. I haven't still, and... reading that post this morning reassured me, I don't want to.

More than the agony of the helplessness, the weight of fear, the sharp penetrating pain of loss, there is a quietly accepting peace that washes over me now. I feel a faith in the circle of life and the healing power of love - both in fighting an illness and in the graceful crossing over when that time comes.

It does not mean if I had an ill child that I'd happily give him up or lose him without anger. I cannot fathom how I might cope with that. But reading Edge's post, reliving the moments so clear in my heart and mind, made me feel closer to my Mom. I miss her terribly, everyday, but not turning away from the experience of her - that feels powerful to me.

Thanks Mr. Edge.

So I heard on the news this morning

that BC leads the country in child poverty (I think they said for the 6th year running, but I could be mistaken).

They translated that to 23% of children living below the poverty line - a line that is so ridiculously low, that the real percentage is likely more like 50%. So somewhere between 1 in 4 and 2 in 4 children do not have enough to eat, safe and comfortable housing, warm enough clothing, and sufficient health care. Combine that with the reality that most of the parents of said children are 'the working poor' - working long hours for little money, depleted of time and energy and therefore less available to those children for true parenting - and we find ourselves growing a nation of lost souls. I do not know the numbers for other provinces, but I'm sure it isn't pretty.

But... come on Canada, we all know it is MUCH more important that we spend our tax dollars on securing a TITLE for Quebec, than solving the profound and basic human dignity issues facing our children - the future leaders of this nation of ours.

************************************************************************************************

note:

I have nothing against the people of Quebec. My family originates from Quebec, and many of my relatives still live there. These proud people have voted - more than once - to stay in Canada, to keep Canada united coast to coast. They have spoken - it's just the political arena isn't listening. I do not believe it is the Quebec people as a whole keeping this wound open, but rather the politicians.

Just sayin'

I don't usually do this, but...

Enough already!!!

I'm so sick and tired of Quebec wanting - getting - special treatment and thinking they are more important than the rest of us Canadians.

When I imagine (because it's never entirely disclosed) the millions upon millions of Canadian tax dollars that have been spent on the debate over Quebec - what it should get, separation, and now a proposal by our fearless if less than wise leader that Quebecers form a nation "that is currently within Canada" - well, it makes me shudder in disgust.

How might those same dollars have been spent instead? Oh my GOD!! Perhaps improving wait lists at hospitals, refunding the deep cuts to child services, re-staffing schools so class sizes are not in the vicinity of 30 students per teacher, and hundreds of other fabulously worthy issues benefitting ALL Canadians, not one fucking province.

ENOUGH ALREADY!

Silly Tidbits

Apparently I'm a little cryptic in my writing here, I talk about the big life stuff, but reveal very little about myself and my life. Sooo... I agreed to more detail.

• I've been told I'm like an M & M
• I don't like when my finger nails are short, they are almost always painted and long
• my husband is an amazing soul and the best friend I've ever known - still
• I sang in a rock band many moons ago - it was a time of big hair and spandex
• the Dr. Seuss book - Oh The Places You'll Go is absolutely fabulous
• I live near the ocean, I don't want to live anywhere else
• I miss my parents in a way I can't even find words for
• I was with my Mom when she took her last breath
• I wasn't with my Dad - I desperately wish I had been
• My MIL died last year - I was blessed with TWO amazing Mothers
• I feel all three of them deeply, often
• I loved being pregnant. would love to be pregnant again
• I am the 'baby' of the family, my sister and brother are 10 and 12 years older than me, respectively
• I have been told I'm a lot like my Dad - might just be the best compliment you could pay me
• I have 3 sons - almost 14, 6, and just turned 4
• not ONE of them is a passive soul - Aquarius, Aires, and Scorpio
• Koda is suckling on my toe as I write this (medium dog, 40 pounds - MY ASS, btw - he's gonna be a BIG boy)
• The movie How To Make An American Quilt has such intricately woven life messages, I think I may still not have picked up on all of em!
• my wild side has scared people away before
• I have been to a psychic, I'll go again
• there are a handful of men who have touched me deeply
• a few have left a mark that is permanent (one hasn't even touched me physically)
• I'm profoundly grateful for each
• I love sound of a fire crackling with ocean waves in the background
• I don't like socks, rarely wear them
• I do like sand between my toes, even in November
• I think Grandmas should be plump
• there are a handful of people who have seen me cry - I'm getting better at being more open
• I have plants ALL over my house
• The first cup of coffee in the morning is sacred
• I have very little, if any really, time alone - something I miss and I'm trying to change
• I feel fortunate every day for the parents I was born to and the people in my life
• I swear. A lot.
• I love working with men
• There is an anniversary coming up that makes me smile - you know I love you, am so grateful for you, and love that we 'met' *grin*