Tupelo Honey

Husband calls me back this am and wanted to let me know that everyday he believes he made the right choice in me as his life partner. And that I am reaffirming that fact each day with him as whom and what I am, not just what I do. I heard him in my heart and as it stirred, I cried with joy. I love him so and to know that he loves me as well, is sweeter than “tupelo honey” like good ol’ Van Morrison drawls http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eq3YLhtuzTQ&NR=1

Love you markel sparkle, stay dry and safe today and all the time you are away.

Counting on Each Other

I was at a retreat in June 2010 and one moment that I remembered today was performed by some participants regarding Winnie the Pooh and Piglet "role play". Piglet to Pooh--"Pooh?" then Pooh to Piglet "Yes Piglet?" Piglet back to Pooh "Nothing Pooh, I just wanted to be sure of you."

Doesn't sound very deep, but say it slowly in the context of whom you love. Husband, partner, child, mom, sibling. Consider the impact of being sure of someone you love, truly and authentically. This skit at retreat really got to me. And was a strong theme from the weekend I just spent in Smith Falls, Ontario.

After six hours each way, and mere hours spent hanging out with electrician husband in his hotel digs, most folks I know would think "what for?" I am sure of him, he is sure of me, and when he asked if I had plans this weekend and would I mind hanging out with him whilst he is on work location, I jumped at the chance. With a surprise intention for the shortest kid, I took off after all the practicalities of our household and mailbox were attended to this past Saturday morning.

Little did I know the vistas, sunshine and beauty of Thousand Island paradise I would see. The 12+ celsius temperature coupled with the singing of eye spy, with my little eye about 2,000 times had me in a space of flying rather than mere driving. Laughing, seeing, and wondering. Plus the fact I glanced over at an opportune moment to witness about 100 swans wintering in a concrete pond adjacent to the Eastern most part of Highway 15. Marvelous, magical fun.

We did share a brief few hours and many hugs and I miss yous. We discussed practical stuff but veered off into December activities and figuring out what Santa will bring to the gang. What a lovely bittersweet time. Shortest kid had a ball staying in a hotel room, which she reports is nicer than home because you get to watch TV all the time and someone cleans the room while you go eat breakfast. She fell asleep two hours past her bedtime with her feet hanging out of a Velux blanket as she snored deeply and noisily.

Sunday morning early, I got a chance to thank him again for supporting me as I become more and more direct and clear with people I love even though I am still gun shy from showing my anger to them in a constructive way. Deep down I think I would dismember them with my sarcasm but I know I can grab enough humour and a bucket of heart to mix up a response that is valid and jolts their attention. To be continued in another blog, that point.

Glad to be writing and watching the Tina Fey Mark Twain award show on PBS. Also looking forward to dreaming of my husband imagining him snuggled down beside me albeit six hours away. Dreaming, as I've said in a few other blogs, is truly free and freeing.

Facing Grief and Finding Growth

Since her Junior Kindergarten (JK) year, youngest kid was deemed exceptional and required a special student status for classroom educational assistance. She received many hours of extra help, attention, homework and social growth lessons. As of today, October 8, 2010, the school called me to say that she has worked through all of her special education issues in her educational support program and is officially deemed at a Grade 2 if not beyond level in some of her academic and social skills areas.

Picture swings to the mother on the other end of the phone listening to this message—mouth agape, eyes wide and clutching the phone with white knuckles. All the hours, days, weeks and months that turned to years of working with our youngest child is paying off. The many nights of ensuring that homework was completed, redone and triple checked, that her room is kept organized and easy to use ergonomically. That she went to bed at a very decent hour of 7:30 pm and just a tad later on weekends. It’s all paying off.

The background to all this is the death of her bio Dad in 2006. She started school in 2007 and has been struggling with behavioural and academic issues straight through. We have been to every conceivable type of medical appointment and observation and had many helpful hands at school to help us smooth out the harder times. She has seen herself through from baby to a work in progress, or at our house known as the “growing up young lady” status. I am beyond proud and moved by her ability to change, if not soar, to the heights I know she can reach.

To every parent who tries to help their child, keep at it. Today’s Thanksgiving Message and blessing is--we can receive the gift we hope for if we just keep trying. Peace folks.

What makes a happy relationship happy?

I have been going through some deep personal reflection lately. My awareness is shifting toward how reactive I am when confronted with a difference of opinion in my marital relationship, with my parents, friends or coworkers. My need to be “right” versus fair overshadows my innate kindness or patience. How sad.

The joke at my house or perhaps accurate description of what makes a life partner work best with another life partner, “Happy Wife, Happy Life”. Sexist yes, but husband derived this information from his Uncle Bumps at said gentleman’s 50^th Wedding Anniversary party. Must be some truth to it as Bumps does not lie. He’s had fifty years to practice truth, patience and compromise and from what I could see, his wife was still smiling.

OK, I lived with my parents for an enriching 26 years before I moved out to my official adult adventure—my first marriage and a new address. They have been married for 59 years and they won’t lie either—it wasn’t all happy. But they have an unspoken, deep bond by which their roles have evolved, their heat on arguments dampened by physical fragility or illness but not one day in all their darkest did I see them lose their sense of humour completely. Their need to laugh at their shortcomings has seen them through more than their share of loss and challenge.

Thanks to the longevity of a couple of couples I know, I have hope for my marriage of now 2 years, which I call truly happy. I love and respect a man who took a chance on a person who at times reactive, loves and respects him too. Unconditionally.

Communication Kills Clarity, Sometimes

Sometimes, my husband asks me what I "mean" by something I said. I talk in a lot of different word pictures or metaphors when I try and describe how I think or feel about a subject. Yet, if his frame of reference, cultural background or general life experience differs than mine, my metaphoric approach is less than clear for his liking.

True, metaphors are like high scientific language or mathematical symbols--if you understand context and application, you're in on the joke or story. If you don't, you can feel left out of an elite club that understands the references, acronyms, puns or play-on-word jibes being tossed around.

I don't plan on changing my sense of humour and don't have a problem explaining my jokes or metaphors. Being an elitist in any sense of the word is not where I want to be or go. I'm going to try and use smaller, more precise words in my conversations and writing. In a word, simplify.

Working Through Anger

Some days and quite recently, I find myself looking at people I’ve known for years and I want to pick apart their character and fixate on their flaws. The surge of blood pressure that manifests into flushed cheeks, clenched fists or a tingling sensation in my forehead signals me to concentrate on breathing rather than judging. Yes, I have just experienced an emotional surge or the activation of my “reptilian brain” in full swing.

Recognizing what triggers me into an angry place is very powerful. I can look at myself as reactive or appreciate that I too have a limit for lies, deceit or unfair behaviour. Without such boundaries, without anger as a motivator, unjust situations, my general safety or that of others around me could go into the “what, me worry?” category.

My happiness is not dependant on not being angry. Instead, deeper self awareness powers me forward, beyond the emotion of the moment or reaction I could take toward those flawed human beings I described earlier. I am a lot like them, as my flaws show up when I judge them before considering what inside of me resembles their behaviour, or could. To seek understanding of those old characters will also power me past a need to judge as I too would like to be understood, loved and appreciated for who I am, flaws and all.

What Price Dreaming or Is It Worth It?

Too little too late. I've heard that phrase a lot in my life. But when it comes to dreaming with a capital D, keeping my integrity, faith in my fellow human beings, I don't believe it's Too Little or Too Late. I believe it's important to keep trying, to do those little things that add up to an eventual overall goal or outcome.

Considering that I've worked with a wide variety of people in my life, some may appear at first glance to be less than competent at their work or their social interactions. Yet in every one of them their lies a passion to do something that they are called to do. It could be to build a canoe, help feed hungry children, knit sweaters for premature babies or go on vacation to a distant land. It matters that we have dreams and passions as they drive us forward, giving us goals to aim for in a wide sea of possibilities.

Negativity can creep in and drown out the sound of our dreams calling us. The sound of our heart's longing can be smothered fear, anxiety or simple being stubborn toward change. Our ego asks us, or at time demands that we not hear what's echoing in our heart, what's waiting for us to flourish and prosper.

I have heard that call, it has come to me many times in my life. Write the book, paint the picture, help the neighbour, hug the kid, cry, laugh or both with the husband. Call my parents, call my sister, find time to volunteer more or find grateful moments daily. Dreaming is free, as Deborah Harry, Blondie's front goddess, sang once not long ago. I'll take my free time and in between time to dream more, complain less and find new ways of enjoying what I've got and the best ways I can use it. Dream a little dream of...you get to fill in the rest, if you dare.

New Home Office and Old Sewing Machine

My view couldn't be nicer. Back drop, forest and field. Butterflies, Red Winged Blackbirds, Dragonflies and green lush leaves. The hum of a yard machine and husband winding his way back as if quilting the grass into a textured shape of horizontal, parallel lines. Child blowing whiskers from almost-completed dandelion crop. Summer is a great time to write.

Today's sunset is gleaming off the dead tree in the farmer's field that separates our parcel from the Carolinian forest. An Anglican Manse used to stand behind that tree, once a front yard to the Minister who gave the Sunday Sermon at the Church across the way. The green and creamy beige field-left-fallow compete for the sunset's embrace. The Flies and Mosquitos tangle in their night time rumble.

At today's garage sale I found I hybrid Treadle and Electric Singer Sewing Machine, circa 1930. I learned how to sew on a Singer and was gleeful in dragging it's cast-iron body and heavy wooden cabinet into the house, husband laughing at my losing my track pants in the caper.

I have a contrast now of looking at a primevil forest, Mac and PCs and a 1930s Singer. All within 20 feet of each other and they seem to appreciate each other as I appreciate each of their distinct purposes as well. I enjoy machinery and electrical devices from many eras and as I oogle an iPad or iPhone4 moments ago, I find myself cooing over Singer's instructions equally so. If I had an old banana-seat bike here on the porch, I'd be taking a screw driver to it's handle bar tilt too, as I did over 35 years ago on Upper Ottawa Street in Hamilton. I am a Girl, Woman and Mechanical Freak all rolled into one. Glad of it too.

Time to Clean House, Heart, Head and Soul

It’s been a few months and lots of shuffling but I’m seeing changes happening in what stuff--physical items--I am tending to let go or keep.

Through parents and relatives I’ve inherited many things from collectibles to clothes and furniture. I have attachments to some items not because of financial value but because they invoke memories of a time or place with that person or group.

I want not to forget but to remember these things. So here’s my plan—I’ll take pictures of what I’m letting go (well, most everything) to reflect upon and then I have a record or more portable version of that thing I will miss. It’s something I decided to do today, now, as I realize I can’t attach myself mentally, physically, spiritually or emotionally to things if I want to feel true freedom. It’s ok that I remember and enjoy those memories these things invoke. But to cling to them as if they offer me they key to happiness and freedom, that’s not my path now.

To the people who will inherit or obtain these things, enjoy them as I did. Then let them go, not without a few pictures snapped before their departure though. This is freedom-enhancing advice that I plan on sticking to as my newest growth experiment.

What the World Needs Now, Fireworks

Driving to drop my days’ worth of sorting clothes and toys off at the local charity bins, I see the neighbours fireworks shooting high up into the sky. Red, green, yellow and blue, the shapes danced and lit up the night with bursts that had me smiling. I remember the first time I saw a professional fireworks display in Ancaster Ontario. The same colours but perhaps on a larger display scale echo in my mind’s eye. That original finale included a full-out Canadian flag shot onto the May 24 ebony screen. Chills of delight riveted up my spine. What magic that light and dark can play off against each other.

My life is much that way these days. The more I seek growth and a sense of balance the new level, new devil programme seems to kick into gear—a thank you to my “TTC” classmate for that reminder. Relationship challenges, especially to do with clear and effective communication, are creating some internal and external fireworks in my existence. That’s what I want though, an authentic existence made up of those more challenging and gritty conversations that get to the heart of what is really go on between “I and thou”. I welcome the emotional surge in my aching heart as I realize how much clarity of thought and purpose mean for myself. And from what they tell me, my being a clear communicator means a lot to my partner for my partner, my friends and loved ones. I can respect that and strive to grow with their feedback firmly planted in my psyche.

I recently read a quote from one on my trainers at http://www.transpersonalcanada.com/ that went something like “a bit of disillusionment…can offer a bit of enlightenment.” I’ve had some deeply heartfelt conversations with people closest to me recently and have found myself in tears of frustration but after that wave a sense of peace came upon me. It’s OK to not find my life as perfect, but find perfection in the life that I do have. Beautiful.

A Lovely Mothers Day Cold

Turns out I do have a cold. At 4 am Mother's Day I awoke to a sore throat and throbbing headache so took some light pharmeceuticals and returned to bed. By 6:30 am I am being presented with a beautiful construction paper card and classroom-rendered bath bombs--which I promise to use as soon as I can get a foot soak organized. What a kid. By 8:00 am, Husband indicates there's something for me on the window sill and he's correct. A card that says "Great Wife and Mother"..."today is all about you".

The last sentence catches me off guard, tears well, I place the card on the top shelf so I can stare at it, remember the verses inside and embody what it suggests. I am grateful being a woman, wife and mother. And that I am acknowledged as being great at these roles plus there's a day set aside to recognize those points, well, I feel bashful and joyful.

By 11:30 am we are freshened up and parking the vehicle to enter a family lunch of chicken and cake plus smiles. I receive a warm welcome and more acknowedgement. We return home to relax, work on my cold symptoms and watch much programming on Discovery and Learning Channels.

By 8:30 pm I am tucking in girl and she tells me she wants to snuggle with me and worries that I'm not feeling well. I tell her to think positive thoughts and things will be fine. She told me several days before I'm the best mom for her. I think she's correct. And I know she is the best kid for me. Peace out there to my mom, all moms. Let's be grateful for all that we have in this wondrous role, one of the hardest and most important we will ever play.

Spiritual Arrogance Cest Moi?

On Saturday April 10, 2010--
The night is not yet here. I see a lot of trees dancing in the wind, with the Sun still shining through them. It’s April and very cool, snow flew for a few short hours yesterday but did not stay on the ground. My way of being today, quiet and studious, gave me a chance to reflect on my week, the people I spent time with, the fun things I did with my family.

I am so grateful for what I have in this life. I gripe and groan about doing household chores but am grateful for them as they keep me active and focused on what matters most to me—peace and keeping my priorities in order.

Work life is sometimes stressful but exciting. Every day is a new adventure and spirits can run high. People crabbing and snapping at each other first brings out some annoyance or anger in me, which then morphs into compassion. I remember being that way moreso in my early 20s, when I thought I had to assert myself through aggression. I don’t feel the need to be aggressive but look for ways to be assertive with an inner strength I’ve acquired through spiritual practice. When I hear messages float through my brain saying “that’s stupid, I’m smarter or more capable than them, they should’ve done it this way or that” I counterbalance that dialogue with more positive internal messages such as “perhaps they are trying their best, they don’t know what they don’t know or they are still learning”.

Spiritual arrogance is a deadly, strange trap for me. I don’t try and avoid the negative inner dialogue. I address it by slipping into the skin, even momentarily, of the person whom seems less than enlightened to me. I find that trying to be in their place slows me down and gives me enough time to realize what I too was like or can be like. Recognizing my inner demons, judges or critics helps me befriend those aspects of myself, although they may be unpleasant to look at or hard for me to admit that I not only have those capabilities but that I could use them if improperly motivated. Trying to employ empathy in action.

Winter is done, Enter Spring

From February 17, a series of random reflections:
The snow is dancing outside my office window. They look like tiny commuters of the universe on a wayward journey of excitement and discovery. They are whirling about in what seems to be no pattern and an intricate dance at the same time. Their movements indicate a flurry of the unknown. Where will I land? Will I melt or stay in my current frozen state? Will I find new friends, let go of some old ones or speak to new flakes and discover I enjoy my time alone as well? This performance offers many questions, much movement plus loads of discovery and potential. Sounds like the human condition of earthbound suffering or doubt long before we reach Nirvana.

New Article on Soulscode

Check out the valentine's twist on finding yourself through truly seeing others.
Guest column on soulscode.com
http://www.soulscode.com/

Responsible For Myself, I'd Say So

I have been thinking about what and whom I am responsible for in my life. I am responsible for me, a kid and my relationships. I am responsible for my well being, my ideas, my concerns and my joy. I am not responsible for other people's behaviour decisions or lifestyle choices. Only my own.

This kid teaches me through her asking me what I can or can't do to help her. Her responsibilities are growing and changing each day, as she figures out what she can or can't do without getting in, what we call "the heck" at home, in the community or with friends.

Perhaps my responsibilities are also in transition but a few foundational items prevail over time or space for me. My true heart's desire is knowing that I can be responsible to myself and others and still feel good about both each day. Some days are trickier than others, and I fall into old habits of trying to take on other people's stuff therefore tricking myself into thinking I have more responsibility than I really do.

If I can worry about 30 foundational things in my life instead of 100, I imagine I'd be a lot less tired, stressed out and confused when I lay down for a good night's rest. I will put into practice what I preach here and create a list in future blogs around describing each of those 30 priorities and consider them my foundational responsibilities. They may ebb and flow in priority importance but as responsibilities, they will not wane in my heart, head and gut.

Post holiday consumer reflections

What we want versus what we need

I remember back in December when the youngest kid watches a pre-holiday toy commercial and announces that she knows that it is a want, not a need that the manufacturer is selling to people. Curious, I ask her how she knows this. Kid says that in school, they are getting her class to define their wants and needs and categorize them into charts, pictures and lists. Impressive.

When I was kid’s age, I thought everything was a need because well, I wanted it. Maturity and a kid later, I realize that I have very few wants and some really clear needs. Clean laundry, fresh water to wash it in, warm socks, hugs from all whom I love and whom love me. I could ponder additions to that list if I wanted to but I don’t need to, at this point anyway.

What freedom I find when I’m not clinging to people, places or things that I used to want to, nay, needed to find solace in regularly. Exceptions include kid, husband, dogs, family, friends, people who look like they may need a hug or a smile. Let’s define that last list as compassion in action rather than a need or want to cling to those things. That list clarification thing I just wrote would be what I’d want to do rather than need to do, mind you.

I find that the holidays are a make or break time for retailers and manufacturers financially. They need to push and create needs out of supposed wants or vice versa to try and capture our attention among the several thousand media messages a week on average that we receive in North America. Not blaming sellers but asking that we as intelligent consumers, like kid, make our own list for 2010 that defines what we need versus what want. Peace is an outcome of clarifying what we want versus what we need. And what a blessed outcome it is. Here’s to my need, not just want, to wish you peace and clarity all the year and new decade through and beyond.