I've got the 'roamies' tonight. That's when I don't know where to put myself and can't settle to doing anything. I haven't had this feeling for quite a while and am casting about trying to figure out what has caused this episode.
Sometimes it's because something is going on with someone I know and the news hasn't reached me yet. There's no way to know whether that's the case until I find out something. If it isn't that, occasionally I'm picking something up from someone close to me. That's possible. My father is spending Christmas with my brother and his family this year and my brother seems to be scared that my mother and I won't react well to this news. I don't have a problem with it. In fact, I'm somewhat relieved that we won't have to sit in all the tension and pretend all is well.
My brother and his family are affording me a great learning opportunity at the moment. I'm having to let go and trust that what's happening is right. I have always worried that I haven't tried hard enough; that I haven't tested every door available. I think I'm exhausted and need to explore the possibility that I've done what I can and life is for a long time. I'm not the only influence in his life and if I can release some mental and emotional space by putting him down, maybe there will be room for new people to come into my life who actually like to spend time with me. Hard lesson but so simple.
It seems to me that it's a time for clearing out old emotional stuff in this dark time of the year. I've spoken to many people who are soul-searching and deciding what can stay and what needs to go. For me, it isn't about throwing people away as much as it's about re-viewing how I relate to them and how much energy I'm going to devote to relationships that don't feed my soul. Maybe there is such a thing as caring too much - more than is necessary.
On an up note, I received the equivalent of a gold star at the dentist today. I always feel like a kid at school, except that I have to pay for the star! Of course, if it weren't a gold star check-up, it would be even more expensive! So my smile is gleaming tonight.
I've also received two Christmas parcels in the mail, which I picked up today, and one Christmas card. I'm feeling cherished. I don't even have to open them to feel that way. I love Christmas mail, although there really isn't very much of it anymore because we can do most of it by email.
It's time I made some plans for myself. I need to get out and hear some carols that aren't commercial. I'd like to walk the labyrinth downtown. I like to do that when the year is 'darked'. I've already watched the cartoon version of the Grinch and sung all the songs, loud and off-key, and with most of the wrong words. I enjoyed every minute of it. This weekend I'll bake some Christmas fare and have mince-pies with a cuppa.
Hope you're all enjoying your Christmas preparations, however you're doing it.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
New eyes
I'm off to my mother's tomorrow morning because she's set to to have her right eye done. She'll be relieved to have both eyes seeing the same way - she won't have to keep winking suggestively in order to see straight. Last time we went, the surgery was very early in the morning - not my best time. This time it's at 11:45 which is much more civilized! I'll stay at her house tomorrow night and come back home on Friday. I'm still accessible by email as I can pick it up from the web.
I think there is something very significant about getting 'new eyes' at seventy-four - almost three quarters of a century. We'll have to wait a bit longer to find out how she sees things differently, metaphorically, but we're paying attention.
I was missing Geoff yesterday, as I walked home. I saw someone standing up at the corner, from a distance, and he reminded me in some way of how Geoff used to stand. It struck me again just how quickly someone can disappear from this earth. The time of his illness seemed to drag on at the time but now it feels as though it was but a blink. There are things in the house that he did, or didn't do, and they remain for us to deal with. But we can't ask him what he did with anything, or what he was planning, or thought. It's those mundane things that seem to creep up on me.
Watch for my weekly blog at the end of the week - talk to you then!
I think there is something very significant about getting 'new eyes' at seventy-four - almost three quarters of a century. We'll have to wait a bit longer to find out how she sees things differently, metaphorically, but we're paying attention.
I was missing Geoff yesterday, as I walked home. I saw someone standing up at the corner, from a distance, and he reminded me in some way of how Geoff used to stand. It struck me again just how quickly someone can disappear from this earth. The time of his illness seemed to drag on at the time but now it feels as though it was but a blink. There are things in the house that he did, or didn't do, and they remain for us to deal with. But we can't ask him what he did with anything, or what he was planning, or thought. It's those mundane things that seem to creep up on me.
Watch for my weekly blog at the end of the week - talk to you then!
Monday, December 03, 2007
Setting the table
My job hunt is an ongoing project, but not just in the sense of actively looking at ads and responding to them. Today I was thinking about what sort of organization I want to work for. In the past, I have always said that I was looking for people to work with, and that the organization, as long as it was ethical and somewhat healthy, was secondary. I wondered if that is still the case.
I've come to the conclusion that I want to work with an organization that is willing to experiment with combining the masculine and the feminine principles. It might be a male or female who heads things up but he/she has to be willing to encompass both the active masculine and the intuitive, chaotic feminine. The person might not call it that; I don't think it really matters what they call it.
Next question: How will I be able to tell if the person/org is doing this? Hmm. For starters, I'll probably be able to tell from the way in which they treat the HR department. Is it lip service or do they really involve the HR people in the decision-making process? What are they looking for when they hire? How do they see what they're doing in the world? How do they treat the environment? How do they treat their staff?
I recently cut a spaghetti squash in half and steamed it. When I had dug the flesh out of the skin, I discovered that the skin was still quite hard. I cleaned it out and set it under the light to dry. Now I have two halves that I'm quite in love with.
The colour is beautiful and the shape is pleasing to my eye. One won't sit flat because it has the stem firmly attached. I came to think about this because I've been given a beautiful, large white bowl for an early Christmas present. In the picture here it has a smaller one inside it.
It symbolizes the feminine to me - a container in which the masculine activity can unfold, where it will be held. That led me to thinking about what sort of job I want and I was remembering what I wrote about in my unpublished novel (maybe I wrote it just to inform myself!): the integration of the masculine and the feminine principles as they relate to the way we live our lives.
I see the 'masculine' as the active aspect of life; the birthing, the building, the hunting and figuring. And I see the 'feminine' as the conception, the holding, the patience, the inspiration, the vision. If we want to have a chance at saving our planet, I think we have to pass the 'ball' backwards and forwards between the two and not let it get stuck in either. One principle can't 'win' and take over any more. We have to let go off that paradigm now. It's like children needing two parents. Nature didn't design things that way by accident!
The big bowl is designed to hold everything while we mix it all up together. And the squash bowls can be the scoops that hold the masculine (that would be the end with the stem, the end that 'isn't sitting upright') and the feminine (the one that sits flat, whatever the metaphor is for that!). Interesting that they have 'rough edges'. Perhaps I still have work to do as regards smoothing off the rough edges.
I've come to the conclusion that I want to work with an organization that is willing to experiment with combining the masculine and the feminine principles. It might be a male or female who heads things up but he/she has to be willing to encompass both the active masculine and the intuitive, chaotic feminine. The person might not call it that; I don't think it really matters what they call it.
Next question: How will I be able to tell if the person/org is doing this? Hmm. For starters, I'll probably be able to tell from the way in which they treat the HR department. Is it lip service or do they really involve the HR people in the decision-making process? What are they looking for when they hire? How do they see what they're doing in the world? How do they treat the environment? How do they treat their staff?
I recently cut a spaghetti squash in half and steamed it. When I had dug the flesh out of the skin, I discovered that the skin was still quite hard. I cleaned it out and set it under the light to dry. Now I have two halves that I'm quite in love with.
The colour is beautiful and the shape is pleasing to my eye. One won't sit flat because it has the stem firmly attached. I came to think about this because I've been given a beautiful, large white bowl for an early Christmas present. In the picture here it has a smaller one inside it.
It symbolizes the feminine to me - a container in which the masculine activity can unfold, where it will be held. That led me to thinking about what sort of job I want and I was remembering what I wrote about in my unpublished novel (maybe I wrote it just to inform myself!): the integration of the masculine and the feminine principles as they relate to the way we live our lives.
I see the 'masculine' as the active aspect of life; the birthing, the building, the hunting and figuring. And I see the 'feminine' as the conception, the holding, the patience, the inspiration, the vision. If we want to have a chance at saving our planet, I think we have to pass the 'ball' backwards and forwards between the two and not let it get stuck in either. One principle can't 'win' and take over any more. We have to let go off that paradigm now. It's like children needing two parents. Nature didn't design things that way by accident!
The big bowl is designed to hold everything while we mix it all up together. And the squash bowls can be the scoops that hold the masculine (that would be the end with the stem, the end that 'isn't sitting upright') and the feminine (the one that sits flat, whatever the metaphor is for that!). Interesting that they have 'rough edges'. Perhaps I still have work to do as regards smoothing off the rough edges.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Lies, lies, and denial
We had a conversation at coffee today about lying and denial and it has left me thinking. I said today, and have said many times before, that there is an energy around a lie that is different from the energy around the truth, or the truth as we know it to be. As I get older and more experienced with other people lying to me, my awareness is increasing around when I'm being lied to. I may not always know what the lie is, or why the person is lying, but I think I can tell when it happens. Of course, there may be times when I don't, but I wouldn't know that unless it were to be brought to light through some other means.
I think denial is a kind of lying to the self. I figure it must come from an inability to face the truth, or what we fear is the truth and what it might mean, perhaps because we feel we are helpless before it. It could be that it's just plain old fear! It seems to me that the fear is so powerful that the person who is in denial can refuse to see what is pointed out to them, even when the evidence is overwhelming.
How does one get through to that person? Is it even possible? With the male members of my family, I have always hoped that it would be– one day. I have been hanging in, waiting for the day when either of them would be able to see a little chink of light that would let them hold out a hand and say, "Maybe there is something to what you're saying. Let me have a look at it and I'll get back to you." I'd be happy just to be able to open some dialog.
I'm coming to understand that such an admission is much more difficult than I might have imagined. I suppose it depends what one imagines is the underpinning issue that is causing all the fear. For instance, if my father or my brother were to believe that they are basically flawed and unworthy human beings and that they would be completely abandoned if anyone were to find out, then that belief would form the cornerstone of their behaviour around everything. It would be the seminal denial and every lie they told would spring from that fear and be designed to protect themselves against ultimate abandonment.
By the time someone like me came along and pointed out just one little lie or one form of denial that was part of that fabric of lies, acknowledging it would be tantamount to letting someone take the end of the ball of yarn and pull on it. It could unravel their self image and their whole life could fall apart. For them, it might have to be all or nothing in terms of defending the lies. They couldn't allow anyone to touch any part of the web without the whole thing being in jeopardy.
My self esteem must be solid enough that I can take a look at what comes my way without it disturbing the bedrock of my identity, although I'm not saying it wouldn't be uncomfortable or even painful to look. Perhaps both of them see the basic confidence in me and believe that I wouldn't understand how they feel. They might feel that I have 'all the cards', certainly in the confidence department, and they have fewer, or none. I have power; they don't. I'm resilient; they're vulnerable. They're at risk and I have nothing to lose. It wouldn't seem like an even playing field to them and therefore not safe enough to take such a huge risk as to uncover themselves, even to themselves.
I've tried showing my vulnerability to them, as I do with my friends, and so far it hasn't worked. It's as though even that disclosure is something that you can only do if you're confident enough. I don't think I can pretend to be less confident than I am; that would just insult their intelligence.
I guess the realization I'm finally coming to is that there isn't anything I can do, except love them and leave them to get on with their path in life. I've asked myself if this is what I would do with anyone else.
I'm sure that I don't have as much emotional baggage with people outside my family and maybe it makes it easier to resolve conflicts with them than it is closer to home. I'm not as invested, perhaps, and less likely to take offense or get so scared that it's beyond me to find a solution. Having said that, there are times when I am clearly triggered by something that pushes my hot buttons and makes me reactive. I had one of those this week at the library! I've done enough work on myself by now though, to know when it's happening and to pull back and reconsider my reaction - if not in the moment, then at least shortly afterwards.
I guess the difference is that way down deep inside me I am confident that I can somehow find my way through and out the other end of the conflict - or not. There have been a few of those as well. I'm just less willing to accept that my father and my brother and his family could be in the camp where I have to accept that they aren't within my ability to reach.
That's the key: not within my ability. Trust, Lucca, trust! As Janet used to say to me, "It pains me!"
I think denial is a kind of lying to the self. I figure it must come from an inability to face the truth, or what we fear is the truth and what it might mean, perhaps because we feel we are helpless before it. It could be that it's just plain old fear! It seems to me that the fear is so powerful that the person who is in denial can refuse to see what is pointed out to them, even when the evidence is overwhelming.
How does one get through to that person? Is it even possible? With the male members of my family, I have always hoped that it would be– one day. I have been hanging in, waiting for the day when either of them would be able to see a little chink of light that would let them hold out a hand and say, "Maybe there is something to what you're saying. Let me have a look at it and I'll get back to you." I'd be happy just to be able to open some dialog.
I'm coming to understand that such an admission is much more difficult than I might have imagined. I suppose it depends what one imagines is the underpinning issue that is causing all the fear. For instance, if my father or my brother were to believe that they are basically flawed and unworthy human beings and that they would be completely abandoned if anyone were to find out, then that belief would form the cornerstone of their behaviour around everything. It would be the seminal denial and every lie they told would spring from that fear and be designed to protect themselves against ultimate abandonment.
By the time someone like me came along and pointed out just one little lie or one form of denial that was part of that fabric of lies, acknowledging it would be tantamount to letting someone take the end of the ball of yarn and pull on it. It could unravel their self image and their whole life could fall apart. For them, it might have to be all or nothing in terms of defending the lies. They couldn't allow anyone to touch any part of the web without the whole thing being in jeopardy.
My self esteem must be solid enough that I can take a look at what comes my way without it disturbing the bedrock of my identity, although I'm not saying it wouldn't be uncomfortable or even painful to look. Perhaps both of them see the basic confidence in me and believe that I wouldn't understand how they feel. They might feel that I have 'all the cards', certainly in the confidence department, and they have fewer, or none. I have power; they don't. I'm resilient; they're vulnerable. They're at risk and I have nothing to lose. It wouldn't seem like an even playing field to them and therefore not safe enough to take such a huge risk as to uncover themselves, even to themselves.
I've tried showing my vulnerability to them, as I do with my friends, and so far it hasn't worked. It's as though even that disclosure is something that you can only do if you're confident enough. I don't think I can pretend to be less confident than I am; that would just insult their intelligence.
I guess the realization I'm finally coming to is that there isn't anything I can do, except love them and leave them to get on with their path in life. I've asked myself if this is what I would do with anyone else.
I'm sure that I don't have as much emotional baggage with people outside my family and maybe it makes it easier to resolve conflicts with them than it is closer to home. I'm not as invested, perhaps, and less likely to take offense or get so scared that it's beyond me to find a solution. Having said that, there are times when I am clearly triggered by something that pushes my hot buttons and makes me reactive. I had one of those this week at the library! I've done enough work on myself by now though, to know when it's happening and to pull back and reconsider my reaction - if not in the moment, then at least shortly afterwards.
I guess the difference is that way down deep inside me I am confident that I can somehow find my way through and out the other end of the conflict - or not. There have been a few of those as well. I'm just less willing to accept that my father and my brother and his family could be in the camp where I have to accept that they aren't within my ability to reach.
That's the key: not within my ability. Trust, Lucca, trust! As Janet used to say to me, "It pains me!"
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Body symptom puzzle solved
In one of my previous posts, I was trying to decipher a couple of my physical symptoms, hoping that I could clear them up and be free from pain. I flogged it for weeks and weeks and I think I've finally cracked it. I took myself off to the chiropractor again and put myself in his hands. Before I did, I sent a message ahead to him through the ethers, saying that I knew that he could heal my shoulder and back and that he needed to dig deep into his intuition to know what to do.
When I got to his office last Friday he approached my shoulder with resolve. We agreed that the back problem was compensating for the shoulder being out and he set to work on getting my shoulder to release. The whole thing loosened a bit and he sent me home with instructions to twist my arm back and forth whenever I thought of it. I returned to see him today and my shoulder had loosened enough that he could pop it back into place. I could hear it! I also felt a wave of fear release at the same time.
That's what I had been waiting for. I wanted to know what emotion was locked up in the joint. When I got home today, I sat quietly and talked to my intuition. Self, I said, what's the fear all about?
I followed the trail. First stop was the original event. I put my shoulder out several months ago when I reached behind the driver's seat in the car and lifted my heavy purse over into the front seat. To do it, I had to twist my arm in a way that I don't normally and it wasn't strong enough. I thought it would heal on its own but it didn't. I just kept doing all that I normally do, including my yoga practice, and before long it was thoroughly inflamed and painful to use.
Next, I wondered about the meaning of the back seat. Aidan rides back there. I wondered if the symptom was from Aidan. Nope. I thought about what is back there. Could this represent something that I have in my metaphorical 'back seat'? Nope, not that either.
Then I remembered remarking that the car acts as a sort of confessional for Fleur. When we drive around together, she talks to me about how she's feeling and what's worrying her. It's as though it's safe in the car. I realized that the metaphorical 'back seat' is where she puts all the stuff that she can't deal with yet. During our drives, I've been trying to pull it into the 'front seat' so we can look at it.
I think my 'right shoulder' is about the responsibility that she now has for running her life and Aidan's, all on her own. She's feeling wrenched by Geoff's death - literally as though her arm has been twisted up her back. And the back problem, right behind my solar plexus, is about her power issues that are surfacing. Funnily enough, she's learning to drive the car right now, so she's facing getting behind the steering wheel of her life. The effect of this particular symptom is that I can't reach, and I especially can't reach behind me, into the past, perhaps. Dealing with losing Geoff and being on her own is a real stretch for her so this is apt.
This leads me to the part that's about me. Even with my shoulder being sore, I have been trying to take Nori to coffee and out to the movies, which involves lifting the chair in and out of the car, occasionally reaching out to grab her if she doesn't hit the chair quite straight, and reaching from behind her chair to take the foot rest off.
In their compromised state, neither my back nor my arm could deal with this. I am forced to acknowledge that I shouldn't be doing these things for her any more, especially not given that I am helping Fleur and Aidan at the same time. If the situation were stable and I could build up my physical strength to deal with it, I might be able to handle her needs. But the strength required is increasing as her abilities decline. I can't say that I see the situation getting better before it gets worse.
We went out for dinner the other night, alone, and I had to maneuver her into a very cramped and poorly designed bathroom. We managed but the acrobatics required to get through a spring-loaded door and around a wall with a very tight angle made my shoulder hurt even more. I'm finding that most restaurants, and movie theatres are badly designed when it comes to accommodating wheelchairs and I just don't have the upper body strength to cope with getting Nori out of tight spots and with the urgency of ever-decreasing bladder control. Basically, the Universe is telling me that I'm not meant to be the wheelchair driver. I've got the message!
I always feel so much better when I finally figure out what the symptoms are telling me. It's like getting the last word in a particularly tricky crossword puzzle!
When I got to his office last Friday he approached my shoulder with resolve. We agreed that the back problem was compensating for the shoulder being out and he set to work on getting my shoulder to release. The whole thing loosened a bit and he sent me home with instructions to twist my arm back and forth whenever I thought of it. I returned to see him today and my shoulder had loosened enough that he could pop it back into place. I could hear it! I also felt a wave of fear release at the same time.
That's what I had been waiting for. I wanted to know what emotion was locked up in the joint. When I got home today, I sat quietly and talked to my intuition. Self, I said, what's the fear all about?
I followed the trail. First stop was the original event. I put my shoulder out several months ago when I reached behind the driver's seat in the car and lifted my heavy purse over into the front seat. To do it, I had to twist my arm in a way that I don't normally and it wasn't strong enough. I thought it would heal on its own but it didn't. I just kept doing all that I normally do, including my yoga practice, and before long it was thoroughly inflamed and painful to use.
Next, I wondered about the meaning of the back seat. Aidan rides back there. I wondered if the symptom was from Aidan. Nope. I thought about what is back there. Could this represent something that I have in my metaphorical 'back seat'? Nope, not that either.
Then I remembered remarking that the car acts as a sort of confessional for Fleur. When we drive around together, she talks to me about how she's feeling and what's worrying her. It's as though it's safe in the car. I realized that the metaphorical 'back seat' is where she puts all the stuff that she can't deal with yet. During our drives, I've been trying to pull it into the 'front seat' so we can look at it.
I think my 'right shoulder' is about the responsibility that she now has for running her life and Aidan's, all on her own. She's feeling wrenched by Geoff's death - literally as though her arm has been twisted up her back. And the back problem, right behind my solar plexus, is about her power issues that are surfacing. Funnily enough, she's learning to drive the car right now, so she's facing getting behind the steering wheel of her life. The effect of this particular symptom is that I can't reach, and I especially can't reach behind me, into the past, perhaps. Dealing with losing Geoff and being on her own is a real stretch for her so this is apt.
This leads me to the part that's about me. Even with my shoulder being sore, I have been trying to take Nori to coffee and out to the movies, which involves lifting the chair in and out of the car, occasionally reaching out to grab her if she doesn't hit the chair quite straight, and reaching from behind her chair to take the foot rest off.
In their compromised state, neither my back nor my arm could deal with this. I am forced to acknowledge that I shouldn't be doing these things for her any more, especially not given that I am helping Fleur and Aidan at the same time. If the situation were stable and I could build up my physical strength to deal with it, I might be able to handle her needs. But the strength required is increasing as her abilities decline. I can't say that I see the situation getting better before it gets worse.
We went out for dinner the other night, alone, and I had to maneuver her into a very cramped and poorly designed bathroom. We managed but the acrobatics required to get through a spring-loaded door and around a wall with a very tight angle made my shoulder hurt even more. I'm finding that most restaurants, and movie theatres are badly designed when it comes to accommodating wheelchairs and I just don't have the upper body strength to cope with getting Nori out of tight spots and with the urgency of ever-decreasing bladder control. Basically, the Universe is telling me that I'm not meant to be the wheelchair driver. I've got the message!
I always feel so much better when I finally figure out what the symptoms are telling me. It's like getting the last word in a particularly tricky crossword puzzle!
Monday, October 15, 2007
A psychic interviewing a psychic
For years I have been passing a sign on Granville Island that says, "Psychic Studio - walk-ins welcome". The studio was up on a second floor and I couldn't see inside, and I didn't need to pay to see a psychic who was going to tell me what I could already tell myself. Never-the-less, I was curious.
Lately, I have been looking for ways to broaden my horizons and get off my beaten path. I remembered that sign and decided to google it. I found a clear and simple web site that said, among other things, that they were looking for reputable and experienced psychics. I fired off an email and ten minutes later I had a response.
The place is run by a woman named Chanel (like the perfume). She's a bit older than me, maybe by as much as ten years although I can't be sure. She comes from Montreal but her parents, I found out, are English and French (European). She's been in Vancouver for eleven years and when she lived in Montreal, she worked at Dorval Airport for a freight forwarding company. I could have passed her in the airport over the years and never known!
So, this afternoon I went to meet her. She's one of those people I feel I already know. I think she felt the same about me. I did a brief reading for her and hit her issue bang on the head. One of the things that they told me to tell her is that she has been waiting for me. I have the feeling that we have something to do together. Anyway, she offered to try me out on the spot. She was surprised at her own impulsiveness and clapped her hand over her mouth, saying that she never usually does that. I accepted on the spot and agreed to cover three weekends while she is away on a vacation.
I start on the 27th of this month. When things are right, they're right. It's easy, everything flows and it doesn't even feel like I'm making a decision. In fact, I had already decided I would say yes before I even got there. I was sure we would like each other.
I can take one bus to get there and it takes anywhere between 45 minutes and an hour - door-to-door. The place is cozy, bright, clean, well-organized, has clear energy and has a security camera on the door. She charges the same rate per hour as I do but the money is split 50/50 with the studio. She says she only takes half for herself as well. I assume the other half is to cover the overhead, including taking credit/debit cards.
There are two other experienced readers; a man with whom I will be working, and a woman. Then a few whom she says are too young and aren't really working out. I think there is no substitute for having lived long enough to have earned a few gray hairs, some authority and confidence. I never thought my gray hair would come in handy!
Chanel says that most of the clients are walk-ins, many of whom are tourists, and they usually have 20-minute appointments. I think I'm going to enjoy this. I'm looking forward to it. After I've tried it for a while, I'll assess whether I want to stay, work weekends or another shift, and what sort of future there might be. But all that is for further down the road. For now, I shall just enjoy myself!
Lately, I have been looking for ways to broaden my horizons and get off my beaten path. I remembered that sign and decided to google it. I found a clear and simple web site that said, among other things, that they were looking for reputable and experienced psychics. I fired off an email and ten minutes later I had a response.
The place is run by a woman named Chanel (like the perfume). She's a bit older than me, maybe by as much as ten years although I can't be sure. She comes from Montreal but her parents, I found out, are English and French (European). She's been in Vancouver for eleven years and when she lived in Montreal, she worked at Dorval Airport for a freight forwarding company. I could have passed her in the airport over the years and never known!
So, this afternoon I went to meet her. She's one of those people I feel I already know. I think she felt the same about me. I did a brief reading for her and hit her issue bang on the head. One of the things that they told me to tell her is that she has been waiting for me. I have the feeling that we have something to do together. Anyway, she offered to try me out on the spot. She was surprised at her own impulsiveness and clapped her hand over her mouth, saying that she never usually does that. I accepted on the spot and agreed to cover three weekends while she is away on a vacation.
I start on the 27th of this month. When things are right, they're right. It's easy, everything flows and it doesn't even feel like I'm making a decision. In fact, I had already decided I would say yes before I even got there. I was sure we would like each other.
I can take one bus to get there and it takes anywhere between 45 minutes and an hour - door-to-door. The place is cozy, bright, clean, well-organized, has clear energy and has a security camera on the door. She charges the same rate per hour as I do but the money is split 50/50 with the studio. She says she only takes half for herself as well. I assume the other half is to cover the overhead, including taking credit/debit cards.
There are two other experienced readers; a man with whom I will be working, and a woman. Then a few whom she says are too young and aren't really working out. I think there is no substitute for having lived long enough to have earned a few gray hairs, some authority and confidence. I never thought my gray hair would come in handy!
Chanel says that most of the clients are walk-ins, many of whom are tourists, and they usually have 20-minute appointments. I think I'm going to enjoy this. I'm looking forward to it. After I've tried it for a while, I'll assess whether I want to stay, work weekends or another shift, and what sort of future there might be. But all that is for further down the road. For now, I shall just enjoy myself!
Friday, October 12, 2007
Who's taking care of whom
Aidan and I were playing pick-up-sticks yesterday and a neighbour dropped by for a visit. Her mother passed away recently and I said that I was sorry to hear about it. She said that she feels she has a closer relationship with her now that she's dead than she did when she was alive. She said that she has conversations in her head with her dead mother every day. Aidan piped up and said that he does that with Geoff. Fleur said she isn't sure that's true for her. It seems to me that Aidan has figured out some things that some of the adults have not.
I was having coffee with my coffee clutch today when the conversation turned to awful things that happen to kids. We were referencing ourselves but then we got onto who stands up for children when they are in an environment that is toxic in some way. I'm thinking of my niece and nephew in particular. Their parents are well-meaning but they have too much adult angst on their plates to see what's happening for the kids.
When you see what looks unhealthy, at what stage do you say something? At what stage do you move from saying something to doing something? And what do you do? What is 'opinion' and when does it move from concern to interference. And when does interference need to become rescuing?
We talked about how unhealthy environments are often seen as the norm for the family where it's painful for the child. 'Unhealthy' can often mean that there is love in the family but that it isn't being expressed very well. The conversation made me think of the number of people who have told me about one person who was in their lives when things were almost unbearable for them. That one person, who listened to them or inspired them or gave them a book - whatever they did - gave the child what they needed to keep themselves from sinking into the abyss of dysfunction.
I wonder what my niece and nephew need from my mother and me. This is on my radar because both the kids have had birthdays over the last month. Next week we will get together with Paige and I'm thinking about what I might say that could be helpful. I don't want to make anything worse for her. Maybe she just needs to hear that we're here if she needs us. She may not know how yet, but just knowing a safety net is there might be enough.
I was having coffee with my coffee clutch today when the conversation turned to awful things that happen to kids. We were referencing ourselves but then we got onto who stands up for children when they are in an environment that is toxic in some way. I'm thinking of my niece and nephew in particular. Their parents are well-meaning but they have too much adult angst on their plates to see what's happening for the kids.
When you see what looks unhealthy, at what stage do you say something? At what stage do you move from saying something to doing something? And what do you do? What is 'opinion' and when does it move from concern to interference. And when does interference need to become rescuing?
We talked about how unhealthy environments are often seen as the norm for the family where it's painful for the child. 'Unhealthy' can often mean that there is love in the family but that it isn't being expressed very well. The conversation made me think of the number of people who have told me about one person who was in their lives when things were almost unbearable for them. That one person, who listened to them or inspired them or gave them a book - whatever they did - gave the child what they needed to keep themselves from sinking into the abyss of dysfunction.
I wonder what my niece and nephew need from my mother and me. This is on my radar because both the kids have had birthdays over the last month. Next week we will get together with Paige and I'm thinking about what I might say that could be helpful. I don't want to make anything worse for her. Maybe she just needs to hear that we're here if she needs us. She may not know how yet, but just knowing a safety net is there might be enough.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Night meetings
A few weeks ago I asked for a dream that would feel supportive. It was a pretty simple request.
I woke remembering a dream where I was hugging a friend. I don't know him in my real life but I felt as if I had known him forever in the dream. He was very black, felt solid to hug and was only fractionally taller than me. My heart sang to be with him but I was saying good-bye. I knew I had to let him go and although I felt it deeply, I was okay with it as well.
Then right after that I was with another male friend. I don't recall what he looked like except his eyes, which were dark brown and almond-shaped. I looked right into them and told him he had to be careful. I said that he might be tempted to let his guard down at night when he thought there wasn't any danger but that he mustn't do that; he had to be vigilant. It was important to me that he really listen to what I was saying and take care of himself. I have no idea what the danger was or what he was doing.
What's so powerful about this dream, or two fragments of dream, is not the content of the conversation. It's the feeling. The feeling was electric. Not in the crackling sense but in the deep connection sense.
It leaves me wondering what we're doing at night.
Janet wrote down one of her dreams on her blog one day and I had some fun playing around with the symbolism of it. Not that I had the key to her dreams but I was experimenting. I think that dreams can be a way to work through what is going on in our everyday lives - sort of like the captions on a picture. I also think that we can use our dreams to figure out things that we're finding challenging - answers that we're searching for.
But I think that we might also have experiences at night that go beyond time and space. I think this was one of those dreams. It has something to do with the feel of the energy. Maybe we move through to another realm and help out other souls with whom we have a deep connection, or maybe we have other responsibilities in other times and places. If that's so, I'm not sure why I would remember that sort of dream. I would think that what is done in that realm would stay in that realm, for what use would it be here?
I come back to the request I made before I went to sleep that night which was to feel the support around me. I certainly felt that. But why did I choose that particular scenario? I wonder ...
I woke remembering a dream where I was hugging a friend. I don't know him in my real life but I felt as if I had known him forever in the dream. He was very black, felt solid to hug and was only fractionally taller than me. My heart sang to be with him but I was saying good-bye. I knew I had to let him go and although I felt it deeply, I was okay with it as well.
Then right after that I was with another male friend. I don't recall what he looked like except his eyes, which were dark brown and almond-shaped. I looked right into them and told him he had to be careful. I said that he might be tempted to let his guard down at night when he thought there wasn't any danger but that he mustn't do that; he had to be vigilant. It was important to me that he really listen to what I was saying and take care of himself. I have no idea what the danger was or what he was doing.
What's so powerful about this dream, or two fragments of dream, is not the content of the conversation. It's the feeling. The feeling was electric. Not in the crackling sense but in the deep connection sense.
It leaves me wondering what we're doing at night.
Janet wrote down one of her dreams on her blog one day and I had some fun playing around with the symbolism of it. Not that I had the key to her dreams but I was experimenting. I think that dreams can be a way to work through what is going on in our everyday lives - sort of like the captions on a picture. I also think that we can use our dreams to figure out things that we're finding challenging - answers that we're searching for.
But I think that we might also have experiences at night that go beyond time and space. I think this was one of those dreams. It has something to do with the feel of the energy. Maybe we move through to another realm and help out other souls with whom we have a deep connection, or maybe we have other responsibilities in other times and places. If that's so, I'm not sure why I would remember that sort of dream. I would think that what is done in that realm would stay in that realm, for what use would it be here?
I come back to the request I made before I went to sleep that night which was to feel the support around me. I certainly felt that. But why did I choose that particular scenario? I wonder ...
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Today
It was 'little' Spencer's 9th birthday yesterday and today Marigold and I went for a gelato with him. We picked him up after school and headed out. Although it rained on and off yesterday, today was a clear, dry, sparkling September day. Perfect. Just like the day he was born, which I remember as though it were yesterday.
Before we went to the gelato shop, we stopped off at Marigold's new condo construction site to see how things are going. They're framing her floor right now and this is what it looks like. Hers is the first peaked window on the top floor, to the left of the corner unit. Her unit faces west and catches the afternoon sun. Diagonally behind me is the entrance to the Lion's Gate hospital. The North Shore mountains are in the background.
Below is a close-up. The window with the three sections will be her living room.
Below is a shot from right outside. What looks like a window set back to the left of the living room will a balcony outside the master bedroom.
Spencer seemed quite happy to be with us today although he doesn't say so. He wiggles away from hand-holding - too big for that I guess - but he's quite happy to have a hug. We ate gelato, opened presents and played Pick-up stix before it was time to go home. This pic is Spencer eating his gelato ... 'Oreo cookie' flavour.
Below is Marigold with 'kiwi' flavour. Sort of matches the decor, don't you think?
Someone has an annoying aunt taking a picture in mid-mouthful.
Sorry, no pics of the photographer!
Before we went to the gelato shop, we stopped off at Marigold's new condo construction site to see how things are going. They're framing her floor right now and this is what it looks like. Hers is the first peaked window on the top floor, to the left of the corner unit. Her unit faces west and catches the afternoon sun. Diagonally behind me is the entrance to the Lion's Gate hospital. The North Shore mountains are in the background.
Below is a close-up. The window with the three sections will be her living room.
Below is a shot from right outside. What looks like a window set back to the left of the living room will a balcony outside the master bedroom.
Spencer seemed quite happy to be with us today although he doesn't say so. He wiggles away from hand-holding - too big for that I guess - but he's quite happy to have a hug. We ate gelato, opened presents and played Pick-up stix before it was time to go home. This pic is Spencer eating his gelato ... 'Oreo cookie' flavour.
Below is Marigold with 'kiwi' flavour. Sort of matches the decor, don't you think?
Someone has an annoying aunt taking a picture in mid-mouthful.
Sorry, no pics of the photographer!
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Edgewalking
An Edgewalker, according to a book by that name just written by Judi Neale, is defined this way:
I see them as the people who walk the edge between the known and the unknown in any community. You could be one in your profession, in your community, your family - in any group really, where the known is trying to grow into the unknown. My friend Julie has always been great at trying out new things that are available on the market. I admire that trait in her and wish I had it. I tend to wait until it has been around for a while, until I get used to seeing it around and someone else has tried it, and then I decide that maybe I'd like to have one.
I think I walk the edge in other spheres. My sphere is the spiritual/emotional. Sometimes I feel that I'm so avant-guard that what I'm looking at doesn't even have words to describe it yet. I like being in that weird territory, even though it isn't always comfortable. I'm willing to risk people not understanding me, or even ostracizing me in some situations. It's worth it. It's where I live. It's home somehow.
I don't imagine that true Edgewalkers try to be what they are. It just happens because of the way they look at the world. I don't even imagine that you could recruit people to be a part of that group. You either came wired that way at birth or you didn't.
All this relates back to what I want to do with my career next. I'm trying to define what I do and how I do it - because how can you get someone to do it with you if you can't say, concisely, what it is and what it can accomplish. but more on that in another blog.
Speaking of blogs, there is a group in the US called BlogHer. These are women bloggers, blogging about everything under the sun. I came across one yesterday and I'll link you to it here. She's talking about what she refers to as the 'S-word' in business. 'S' being spirituality. She carefully defines it as 'not religion' and says that businesses would do well to acknowledge that it is important to a number of employees, and even customers. I'll paraphrase but my take on it is that they will ignore it at their peril.
When I was in the business world in the 80s, and even in the 90s, if you mentioned anything spiritual, you immediately and automatically lost credibility. Many of the issues I work with are related to what we see as spirituality, although I don't think they are truly limited to that area. It's just a catch-all label for a bunch of things we're not yet comfortable talking about in the world of work. Business ethics and personal integrity, values, fears about illness and incapacitation, death, birth, marriage, friendship, self worth and meaning; I think all of these are very much related to our spiritual outlook in life. They may also relate to our religious beliefs and practices but not only to those.
This 'S' area, for lack of a better term, is what interests me. How does it affect how we work and what we work on, with whom and how well? I don't think human beings work optimally without meaning, and meaning is derived from many things. Just wanting more money in order to buy more security and more material things seems a mean and limiting expectation of what motivates us.
I'm hoping that we're going to get fed up with being on the often fear-ridden material treadmill and seek something with richer meaning. I hope that we demand more of our jobs and our relationships at work. Given how much time we spend there and how influential our work environments are on our lives, I hope that we can do better than we have been doing. I suspect that there are a growing number of people who do, or we wouldn't have so many home-based businesses, children being home-schooled, or even people retiring early in order to do something that holds more meaning for them.
I celebrate walking on the edge, in whatever capacity we do it. I found a post card which I gave to my mother years ago. It said:
They're the first people to volunteer to head up a new business unit, lead a cross-company initiative, or take on an overseas assignment. They're the glass half-full folks, who are constantly thinking "out of the box," forging alliances with colleagues in other departments, seeking out new solutions to old problems, and anticipating challenges on the horizon. And in today's increasingly diverse workplaces, they are often people who have pursued unusual educational and career paths, traveled widely, and speak more than one language. Judi Neal has a term for these people: Edgewalkers. Literally, an Edgewalker is someone who walks between two worlds.I haven't read the book yet and can't request it from the library because the city employees are on strike, but I will when they come back. It seems to me that the author is focused on the business world but I'm more interested in how these people behave in society. I used to call them 'deviant bees'. I feel that I am one; either a deviant bee or an Edgewalker. I really like the term Edgewalker though. (Find out if you are an Edgewalker by completing Judi's questionnaire)
I see them as the people who walk the edge between the known and the unknown in any community. You could be one in your profession, in your community, your family - in any group really, where the known is trying to grow into the unknown. My friend Julie has always been great at trying out new things that are available on the market. I admire that trait in her and wish I had it. I tend to wait until it has been around for a while, until I get used to seeing it around and someone else has tried it, and then I decide that maybe I'd like to have one.
I think I walk the edge in other spheres. My sphere is the spiritual/emotional. Sometimes I feel that I'm so avant-guard that what I'm looking at doesn't even have words to describe it yet. I like being in that weird territory, even though it isn't always comfortable. I'm willing to risk people not understanding me, or even ostracizing me in some situations. It's worth it. It's where I live. It's home somehow.
I don't imagine that true Edgewalkers try to be what they are. It just happens because of the way they look at the world. I don't even imagine that you could recruit people to be a part of that group. You either came wired that way at birth or you didn't.
All this relates back to what I want to do with my career next. I'm trying to define what I do and how I do it - because how can you get someone to do it with you if you can't say, concisely, what it is and what it can accomplish. but more on that in another blog.
Speaking of blogs, there is a group in the US called BlogHer. These are women bloggers, blogging about everything under the sun. I came across one yesterday and I'll link you to it here. She's talking about what she refers to as the 'S-word' in business. 'S' being spirituality. She carefully defines it as 'not religion' and says that businesses would do well to acknowledge that it is important to a number of employees, and even customers. I'll paraphrase but my take on it is that they will ignore it at their peril.
When I was in the business world in the 80s, and even in the 90s, if you mentioned anything spiritual, you immediately and automatically lost credibility. Many of the issues I work with are related to what we see as spirituality, although I don't think they are truly limited to that area. It's just a catch-all label for a bunch of things we're not yet comfortable talking about in the world of work. Business ethics and personal integrity, values, fears about illness and incapacitation, death, birth, marriage, friendship, self worth and meaning; I think all of these are very much related to our spiritual outlook in life. They may also relate to our religious beliefs and practices but not only to those.
This 'S' area, for lack of a better term, is what interests me. How does it affect how we work and what we work on, with whom and how well? I don't think human beings work optimally without meaning, and meaning is derived from many things. Just wanting more money in order to buy more security and more material things seems a mean and limiting expectation of what motivates us.
I'm hoping that we're going to get fed up with being on the often fear-ridden material treadmill and seek something with richer meaning. I hope that we demand more of our jobs and our relationships at work. Given how much time we spend there and how influential our work environments are on our lives, I hope that we can do better than we have been doing. I suspect that there are a growing number of people who do, or we wouldn't have so many home-based businesses, children being home-schooled, or even people retiring early in order to do something that holds more meaning for them.
I celebrate walking on the edge, in whatever capacity we do it. I found a post card which I gave to my mother years ago. It said:
If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space.
Monday, September 03, 2007
Loneliness
Spencer and I drove through the Fraser Valley yesterday to visit a used book store in Chilliwack. We didn't go just for that purpose but it was a good destination for a leisurely drive through the countryside.
The area is at the far eastern end of the Fraser Valley, in the lea of the mountains, and is some of the prime farmland still left these days. We went out on the highway and then returned on the back roads. It was a more round-about way but it was nearing the end of the day and the sky was really pretty and we weren't in a hurry. (see the two pics below) The highway is so sterile and we wanted to check out a few farms that had little artisan or produce shops attached to them. It turned out that they were all closed but we found them and made note of where they are and their hours of operation for next time.
Just about the only place that was open was the book shop. we checked that ahead of time. The shop is run by a father and daughter team with the mother in the background. I think she does the books. I found out about them because the mother was in an course I taught in the entrepreneurial program at BCIT a few years ago. I would gauge that she was in her sixties. The book shop also operates on the Internet and you can order books from them which they will mail to you. (As I have done) Mary had suggested I drop in and check the place out. It took me a few years! I wasn't sure she would remember me but she did, and my name too.
I found a few books that I needed and then we headed off to find some lunch. There were some really nice looking little cafes around the corner but they were closed on a Sunday and so we followed Mary's suggestion and found a bigger place a little further from the store -n a brand new, sterile mall. No worries though because the food was fine.
After lunch we wandered back to the store again and as we were poking about in some of the store windows an elderly woman passed us using her Zimmer frame. She stopped in front of me, apologized for eavesdropping, but said she would anyway, and exclaimed about the love there was between Spencer and I. She said she used to have it with her husband and that he had died a few years ago. I said that she must find it hard and she said she was so lonely. She said that you can't replace that sort of feeling and that she had noticed it with us.
Since we weren't strolling along arm-in-arm but were talking about what one of the empty shops might have been before it closed, I think she must have been picking up the fact that Spencer and I were having a nice afternoon and that we like one another. She probably had a wonderful friendship with her husband and misses it. After talking with us for a few more minutes, she went off on her way and so did we.
I was left thinking about what she said. It's not every day that someone comes up to me like that and certainly not to tell me about the love she feels between me and the person I'm with, when that person isn't my significant other. On reflection, I'm positive that happy camaraderie has an energy and that when you're alone and lonely you are particularly sensitive to it. It feels like everyone else in the world has it but you - like young lovers in the springtime.
I'm also reminded of how many lonely people there are in our communities. Holiday weekends seem particularly poignant. Families, families everywhere and they all look happy even if they're not. Insiders and outsiders, belongers and 'others'. How do you get 'in' if you're 'out'?
The fact is that even if the animals went two-by-two into the ark, we don't go two-by-two off the planet, or even across it. Really good relationships are rare treasures and we should recognize and celebrate them as such. Marriages often don't last, families having falling outs and friendships are often imperfect and fleeting. But some of them are gems.
Even the ones that are long gone leave a residue, a sweet aftertaste. I was remembering the other day about a girl with whom I went to summer camp when I was 12. She befriended me when I was being bullied by a girl in my tent who turned all the other girls against me. I don't remember her name but I remember the feel of her, sitting beside me on the bus on the way home.
I think the antidote to loneliness is appreciation. It's even more important than having things in common. When someone appreciates you, you feel seen and valued. You matter. You shine. We need genuine appreciation like we need vitamins.
This is a corn field with an interesting sky.
And a blueberry field a little later.
The area is at the far eastern end of the Fraser Valley, in the lea of the mountains, and is some of the prime farmland still left these days. We went out on the highway and then returned on the back roads. It was a more round-about way but it was nearing the end of the day and the sky was really pretty and we weren't in a hurry. (see the two pics below) The highway is so sterile and we wanted to check out a few farms that had little artisan or produce shops attached to them. It turned out that they were all closed but we found them and made note of where they are and their hours of operation for next time.
Just about the only place that was open was the book shop. we checked that ahead of time. The shop is run by a father and daughter team with the mother in the background. I think she does the books. I found out about them because the mother was in an course I taught in the entrepreneurial program at BCIT a few years ago. I would gauge that she was in her sixties. The book shop also operates on the Internet and you can order books from them which they will mail to you. (As I have done) Mary had suggested I drop in and check the place out. It took me a few years! I wasn't sure she would remember me but she did, and my name too.
I found a few books that I needed and then we headed off to find some lunch. There were some really nice looking little cafes around the corner but they were closed on a Sunday and so we followed Mary's suggestion and found a bigger place a little further from the store -n a brand new, sterile mall. No worries though because the food was fine.
After lunch we wandered back to the store again and as we were poking about in some of the store windows an elderly woman passed us using her Zimmer frame. She stopped in front of me, apologized for eavesdropping, but said she would anyway, and exclaimed about the love there was between Spencer and I. She said she used to have it with her husband and that he had died a few years ago. I said that she must find it hard and she said she was so lonely. She said that you can't replace that sort of feeling and that she had noticed it with us.
Since we weren't strolling along arm-in-arm but were talking about what one of the empty shops might have been before it closed, I think she must have been picking up the fact that Spencer and I were having a nice afternoon and that we like one another. She probably had a wonderful friendship with her husband and misses it. After talking with us for a few more minutes, she went off on her way and so did we.
I was left thinking about what she said. It's not every day that someone comes up to me like that and certainly not to tell me about the love she feels between me and the person I'm with, when that person isn't my significant other. On reflection, I'm positive that happy camaraderie has an energy and that when you're alone and lonely you are particularly sensitive to it. It feels like everyone else in the world has it but you - like young lovers in the springtime.
I'm also reminded of how many lonely people there are in our communities. Holiday weekends seem particularly poignant. Families, families everywhere and they all look happy even if they're not. Insiders and outsiders, belongers and 'others'. How do you get 'in' if you're 'out'?
The fact is that even if the animals went two-by-two into the ark, we don't go two-by-two off the planet, or even across it. Really good relationships are rare treasures and we should recognize and celebrate them as such. Marriages often don't last, families having falling outs and friendships are often imperfect and fleeting. But some of them are gems.
Even the ones that are long gone leave a residue, a sweet aftertaste. I was remembering the other day about a girl with whom I went to summer camp when I was 12. She befriended me when I was being bullied by a girl in my tent who turned all the other girls against me. I don't remember her name but I remember the feel of her, sitting beside me on the bus on the way home.
I think the antidote to loneliness is appreciation. It's even more important than having things in common. When someone appreciates you, you feel seen and valued. You matter. You shine. We need genuine appreciation like we need vitamins.
This is a corn field with an interesting sky.
And a blueberry field a little later.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Outer experience matching inner truth
I've just received an astrological update from a guy who lives and works in Australia. I've been reading his full moon and new moon updates for a couple of years now and find them very insightful. They are not astrological charts in the sense of having a 'birth chart' done but rather they are discussions of the general circumstances in which we all find ourselves at the moment.
I admit to not being very astrologically savvy. At best I can say that I understand some of the underlying principles. However, I do appreciate some astrological guidance in the form of his weather reports. Several of my friends also read these letters and I'm always amused by the fact that we get different things from them. I guess we hear what we need to. Isn't that so with life in general?
This month's letter was informative for my personal process which I won't go into here but I will note one thought that has stayed with me. I believe we have come to a time when we have the opportunity to make our outer experience match our inner truth. Let me explain what I mean by this.
I'll begin by going back more than twenty-five years to an example from my own experience. I started my career in the business world although at the time I was a bit surprised. I wasn't a kid who grew up knowing that I wanted to be a business woman. In fact my dreams were never about any ordinary profession on the check-list of what to be when you grow up. However, from the time I was old enough to know what the paranormal was, I wanted to have something to do with it. I didn't know how but that was what interested me.
Through a set of seeming co-incidences I ended up in business school and then working in the hotel industry. The only thing about it that made sense was that I was in the Human Resources department and so was essentially dealing with psychology. About two years before I left the business world, I enrolled in a six-month course designed to help me explore my psychic abilities. It opened a door that I went through and never looked back. I was still in the business world but I never said a word about what I was exploring. I believed I had to split myself in two because it was not acceptable to reveal that side of myself in my work environment and maintain any sort of professional credibility.
I stayed in that split state, living a conventional life during business hours and an esoteric life in my private life, for about three years. When I changed careers and studied psychotherapy, I took the opportunity to step out and acknowledge what I was doing and learning psychically. Although it felt like a huge risk at the time, it was an enormous relief not to have to hide parts of myself and I noticed that openly incorporating my intuition into my work made me better able to help my clients.
Since then the 'long-bony-finger-of-the-Universe' has continually challenged me to deepen the synthesis between my inner and outer world. I don't think I was incorrect in my assessment of what would be acceptable in the business world all those years ago; I just think that what I had deemed unacceptable in the 80s and 90s has been changing over the last few years. Not only is it changing but I believe that using our intuition is going to become a survival tool.
It's becoming ever clearer to me that we are not here on this planet to play it safe. That doesn't enliven us or help us grow. I've noticed something interesting; whenever I learn something in my personal life, I am almost instantly called upon to turn around and teach it to whoever is standing close behind me on the ladder of life - lest I be deluded or insecure enough to believe I am all alone in my experience! It's like passing a bucket in an old-fashioned fire line, from the lake to the burning building. So let's assume that one or other of you might be behind me in the line... here's the bucket I'm passing along.
I am learning that I am being called to be the most 'me' I can possibly be. I am not here to be just like everyone else. I am not here to conform, or look pretty, or be reasonable, or make more money, or be famous. I'm here to be uniquely me and by doing so, to encourage others to do the same. When we don't embrace all of who we know we are, there is a very real and persistent angst gnawing away inside us. I believe the angst comes as a result of the dissonance we feel when we try to keep some essential part of ourselves under cover, or under the radar. I'm coming to the conclusion that it just takes too much energy to pretend we are not something that we are. Compare that expenditure of energy to what is released when we let our 'me-ness' out into the light of day and revel in it.
To be sure, it is at first a bit scary, but I am recognizing that I need my outer experience to match my inner truth. It's a journey that I take every day, one step at a time. I'm gradually finding out what my inner truth is. It's a process. It reveals itself a little more each time I think I've figured it out. It's not a destination; it's a journey. I can always tell there's another level to explore by what it feels like inside me. If I am denying some aspect of my inner truth, I feel uncomfortable. You could even say it's an adventure in getting to know myself and then introducing that better integrated self to the world.
I leave you with these questions:
I admit to not being very astrologically savvy. At best I can say that I understand some of the underlying principles. However, I do appreciate some astrological guidance in the form of his weather reports. Several of my friends also read these letters and I'm always amused by the fact that we get different things from them. I guess we hear what we need to. Isn't that so with life in general?
This month's letter was informative for my personal process which I won't go into here but I will note one thought that has stayed with me. I believe we have come to a time when we have the opportunity to make our outer experience match our inner truth. Let me explain what I mean by this.
I'll begin by going back more than twenty-five years to an example from my own experience. I started my career in the business world although at the time I was a bit surprised. I wasn't a kid who grew up knowing that I wanted to be a business woman. In fact my dreams were never about any ordinary profession on the check-list of what to be when you grow up. However, from the time I was old enough to know what the paranormal was, I wanted to have something to do with it. I didn't know how but that was what interested me.
Through a set of seeming co-incidences I ended up in business school and then working in the hotel industry. The only thing about it that made sense was that I was in the Human Resources department and so was essentially dealing with psychology. About two years before I left the business world, I enrolled in a six-month course designed to help me explore my psychic abilities. It opened a door that I went through and never looked back. I was still in the business world but I never said a word about what I was exploring. I believed I had to split myself in two because it was not acceptable to reveal that side of myself in my work environment and maintain any sort of professional credibility.
I stayed in that split state, living a conventional life during business hours and an esoteric life in my private life, for about three years. When I changed careers and studied psychotherapy, I took the opportunity to step out and acknowledge what I was doing and learning psychically. Although it felt like a huge risk at the time, it was an enormous relief not to have to hide parts of myself and I noticed that openly incorporating my intuition into my work made me better able to help my clients.
Since then the 'long-bony-finger-of-the-Universe' has continually challenged me to deepen the synthesis between my inner and outer world. I don't think I was incorrect in my assessment of what would be acceptable in the business world all those years ago; I just think that what I had deemed unacceptable in the 80s and 90s has been changing over the last few years. Not only is it changing but I believe that using our intuition is going to become a survival tool.
It's becoming ever clearer to me that we are not here on this planet to play it safe. That doesn't enliven us or help us grow. I've noticed something interesting; whenever I learn something in my personal life, I am almost instantly called upon to turn around and teach it to whoever is standing close behind me on the ladder of life - lest I be deluded or insecure enough to believe I am all alone in my experience! It's like passing a bucket in an old-fashioned fire line, from the lake to the burning building. So let's assume that one or other of you might be behind me in the line... here's the bucket I'm passing along.
I am learning that I am being called to be the most 'me' I can possibly be. I am not here to be just like everyone else. I am not here to conform, or look pretty, or be reasonable, or make more money, or be famous. I'm here to be uniquely me and by doing so, to encourage others to do the same. When we don't embrace all of who we know we are, there is a very real and persistent angst gnawing away inside us. I believe the angst comes as a result of the dissonance we feel when we try to keep some essential part of ourselves under cover, or under the radar. I'm coming to the conclusion that it just takes too much energy to pretend we are not something that we are. Compare that expenditure of energy to what is released when we let our 'me-ness' out into the light of day and revel in it.
To be sure, it is at first a bit scary, but I am recognizing that I need my outer experience to match my inner truth. It's a journey that I take every day, one step at a time. I'm gradually finding out what my inner truth is. It's a process. It reveals itself a little more each time I think I've figured it out. It's not a destination; it's a journey. I can always tell there's another level to explore by what it feels like inside me. If I am denying some aspect of my inner truth, I feel uncomfortable. You could even say it's an adventure in getting to know myself and then introducing that better integrated self to the world.
I leave you with these questions:
- In what way are you being invited to match your outer experience with your inner truth?
- What aspect of who you are do you suppose is calling to you?
- Where is the edge over which you are frightened to step but which is strangely compelling?
- How might embracing it enliven you and broaden your horizons?
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Support in my community
Last night my mother and I went off to a local Mood Disorder support group that meets in the neighbourhood. There were 6 people there plus the two of us and two facilitators, one of whom is the Director of the organization. They were really welcoming and helpful people and I came away feeling encouraged that my mother and I are at least on the right track.
Four of the people in the group have sons who have the same thing as Karen, and the other two have spouses with it. We came away knowing that this is a long road and that successfully coming to terms with living with the disorder is really in the hands of the people most directly involved, and their willingness to reach out. If they can reach out, the way the people in this group have, then there is definitely hope for moving through the challenges more gracefully. Right now, everything is still fresh for Kent and Karen and they really don't know which end is up. It's a bit like dealing with death. One of the stages is denial.
The group's feedback to us is to make it known that we are willing to be of help and that we care about them. That we've already done. Nothing is simple of course, and we couldn't get into all the further intricacies of what Kent is facing on his own because there wasn't time, and it probably wasn't the place anyway, but things unfold as they will and we can watch and wait for the right opportunity. I have to keep reminding myself that 'holding the container' and being a 'witness' to what they are experiencing is more important than it would seem.
The group is a non-profit organization and depends on donations. I guess this is one of the results of all the health cutbacks we've seen over the last ten or so years. The facilitators do so from the goodness of their hearts - bless them. They handed us some literature at the end that I haven't had a chance to read yet but that my mother says is very comprehensive and useful. There is also a monthly newsletter. It reminds me a bit of the MS Association that Nori belongs to.
It would seem that Karen can't get the help of a team of mental health professionals unless she has been admitted to a hospital first and assigned a case-worker. I can't help but wish that she would have gone that route. It might have been more traumatic at first but there might ultimately have been a tighter net of support around her when she needs it most - now, while she is getting used to the idea and what it means to her life, and adjusting to the medication.
We found out that there are support groups for people who have the disorder and separate groups for friends and family. We met a man whose experience seems somewhat similar to Kent and Karen's except that his wife hasn't been diagnosed. He talked about some of the issues that I know Kent must be facing and his children, although somewhat younger, are in a similar predicament. If Kent ever gets to the stage where he feels he can reach out for help, at least we know where to send him and that the group is practical and helpful.
In the meantime, I have another couple of books to read and the pamphlets that they gave us last night. The centre, where the meeting was held is full of resources and people to talk to. It feels better to have been able to talk about it and hear some reinforcement. Now we will have to take each day as it comes along.
Four of the people in the group have sons who have the same thing as Karen, and the other two have spouses with it. We came away knowing that this is a long road and that successfully coming to terms with living with the disorder is really in the hands of the people most directly involved, and their willingness to reach out. If they can reach out, the way the people in this group have, then there is definitely hope for moving through the challenges more gracefully. Right now, everything is still fresh for Kent and Karen and they really don't know which end is up. It's a bit like dealing with death. One of the stages is denial.
The group's feedback to us is to make it known that we are willing to be of help and that we care about them. That we've already done. Nothing is simple of course, and we couldn't get into all the further intricacies of what Kent is facing on his own because there wasn't time, and it probably wasn't the place anyway, but things unfold as they will and we can watch and wait for the right opportunity. I have to keep reminding myself that 'holding the container' and being a 'witness' to what they are experiencing is more important than it would seem.
The group is a non-profit organization and depends on donations. I guess this is one of the results of all the health cutbacks we've seen over the last ten or so years. The facilitators do so from the goodness of their hearts - bless them. They handed us some literature at the end that I haven't had a chance to read yet but that my mother says is very comprehensive and useful. There is also a monthly newsletter. It reminds me a bit of the MS Association that Nori belongs to.
It would seem that Karen can't get the help of a team of mental health professionals unless she has been admitted to a hospital first and assigned a case-worker. I can't help but wish that she would have gone that route. It might have been more traumatic at first but there might ultimately have been a tighter net of support around her when she needs it most - now, while she is getting used to the idea and what it means to her life, and adjusting to the medication.
We found out that there are support groups for people who have the disorder and separate groups for friends and family. We met a man whose experience seems somewhat similar to Kent and Karen's except that his wife hasn't been diagnosed. He talked about some of the issues that I know Kent must be facing and his children, although somewhat younger, are in a similar predicament. If Kent ever gets to the stage where he feels he can reach out for help, at least we know where to send him and that the group is practical and helpful.
In the meantime, I have another couple of books to read and the pamphlets that they gave us last night. The centre, where the meeting was held is full of resources and people to talk to. It feels better to have been able to talk about it and hear some reinforcement. Now we will have to take each day as it comes along.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Risking oneself
I had a long chat at coffee today that stretched into dinner-time. Behzad has just returned from seven months in mostly Germany and Turkey and is settling back in to life here. Watching someone else settle back in makes me remember how it has felt when I have done the same. There's culture shock just between two cities in the same country, never mind from one continent to another, but there is also the process of reorienting to the next phase of your life. I can look at who I am and what I am doing again, as I re-enter.
We were discussing life purpose. (Just a light afternoon chat!) What if our choices about what we do in our lives could have potentially life-changing effects on the people we love? Do we have the right to make that choice? That's an awfully big responsibility; a huge risk to take.
It was topical for me because I have been thinking along these lines recently. My choices don't put anyone's life at risk - at least not so directly - but for me to do what I believe I am here to do requires saying what I see, to people who might feel it changes their lives. In particular I'm thinking about observations that impact people in a powerful way, not just noticing that they are avoiding a friend's dinner invitation. It's the big stuff I'm interested in and cautious about. I'm watching for the people who might be ready for that sort of change. They have to want it, and I have to be ready to be that honest; perhaps that audacious.
The personal fear is that if I stick my neck out, I might get it chopped off. It's not rational but it has the same effect as someone threatening my family in that fear is fear, especially if it isn't conscious. In some cases, fortunately not mine, the fear for one's life could be literal but it doesn't have to be literal in order to make me hold back rather than taking a risk. The sorts of choices that fly in the face of my fears require that I be courageous; maybe not in the same way as the person whose life will change because of what I say, but in a way that could be critical to the success of that person's effort to change. Collectively, I think it's these life changing, but not life and death, decisions on the micro/individual level that create the aggregate changes on the macro/global level.
We were observing what is happening politically in Turkey and how a person's macro-to-them but micro-to-the-nation choices play out on the level of national and international politics. At what point would my beliefs be strong enough that I would take to the streets in protest? How much will I risk? How much will any of us risk and under what circumstances?
We live in a world where corporations and governments spend a lot of money reearching and manipulating our fears, in order to get us to spend money and/or make choices that will lead us to surrender our power and freedoms. I believe that both fear and hopelessness can stop people from exercising their own personal power. My buying into any sort of fear will preoccupy me with my own safety or relieving the pain of uncertainty. In that state, especially at low, insidious levels, I lose some of my critical faculties. If my fears and insecurities keep me busy scrambling to make myself good enough or safe enough, then maybe I won't have time or energy or esteem enough at the end of the day to do what is really important in my life-plan.
Maybe this is where our low self-esteem issues come from. I doubt that I can really feel good about myself if I'm not doing what I came to this planet to do. I might not even allow myself to be aware of what that is. Avoiding fear and insecurity doesn't make us feel joyous, especially if there is more of it for us to deal with tomorrow.
But what is also interesting is what makes people act on their principles.
I'm curious about what happens inside myself that compels me to choose an alternative path to the norm, perhaps a path that appears risky to others, and feel that there isn't really a decision to be made. Or what might make me screw up my courage and make the choice anyway - in spite of what flack I may get about it? Someone else looking at the same circumstances might not be prepared to take the same risk. At what point does my dream become something which drives me to take action? At what point does the safety of one's family become less important than an ideal? How does one live with that choice? Is such an act one of supreme faith and idealism or is it one of supreme arrogance and selfishness? And how do we reconcile this?
To me the juice of life lies in making these choices and seeing how they play out. It isn't always about big, high-profile choices that would change the fate of nations, although collectively, the aggregate effect of these smaller choices could do just that. It's more about every one of us and the daily choices we make that would never make the dinner news hour. What if we all lived the life we felt called to live instead of the life that we settle with because it is safer? Would we feel fewer regrets when it comes our time to die? Does one small, courageous choice empower or inspire others to do the same, or bigger? Does it create ripples on the global pond? I hope so.
We were discussing life purpose. (Just a light afternoon chat!) What if our choices about what we do in our lives could have potentially life-changing effects on the people we love? Do we have the right to make that choice? That's an awfully big responsibility; a huge risk to take.
It was topical for me because I have been thinking along these lines recently. My choices don't put anyone's life at risk - at least not so directly - but for me to do what I believe I am here to do requires saying what I see, to people who might feel it changes their lives. In particular I'm thinking about observations that impact people in a powerful way, not just noticing that they are avoiding a friend's dinner invitation. It's the big stuff I'm interested in and cautious about. I'm watching for the people who might be ready for that sort of change. They have to want it, and I have to be ready to be that honest; perhaps that audacious.
The personal fear is that if I stick my neck out, I might get it chopped off. It's not rational but it has the same effect as someone threatening my family in that fear is fear, especially if it isn't conscious. In some cases, fortunately not mine, the fear for one's life could be literal but it doesn't have to be literal in order to make me hold back rather than taking a risk. The sorts of choices that fly in the face of my fears require that I be courageous; maybe not in the same way as the person whose life will change because of what I say, but in a way that could be critical to the success of that person's effort to change. Collectively, I think it's these life changing, but not life and death, decisions on the micro/individual level that create the aggregate changes on the macro/global level.
We were observing what is happening politically in Turkey and how a person's macro-to-them but micro-to-the-nation choices play out on the level of national and international politics. At what point would my beliefs be strong enough that I would take to the streets in protest? How much will I risk? How much will any of us risk and under what circumstances?
We live in a world where corporations and governments spend a lot of money reearching and manipulating our fears, in order to get us to spend money and/or make choices that will lead us to surrender our power and freedoms. I believe that both fear and hopelessness can stop people from exercising their own personal power. My buying into any sort of fear will preoccupy me with my own safety or relieving the pain of uncertainty. In that state, especially at low, insidious levels, I lose some of my critical faculties. If my fears and insecurities keep me busy scrambling to make myself good enough or safe enough, then maybe I won't have time or energy or esteem enough at the end of the day to do what is really important in my life-plan.
Maybe this is where our low self-esteem issues come from. I doubt that I can really feel good about myself if I'm not doing what I came to this planet to do. I might not even allow myself to be aware of what that is. Avoiding fear and insecurity doesn't make us feel joyous, especially if there is more of it for us to deal with tomorrow.
But what is also interesting is what makes people act on their principles.
I'm curious about what happens inside myself that compels me to choose an alternative path to the norm, perhaps a path that appears risky to others, and feel that there isn't really a decision to be made. Or what might make me screw up my courage and make the choice anyway - in spite of what flack I may get about it? Someone else looking at the same circumstances might not be prepared to take the same risk. At what point does my dream become something which drives me to take action? At what point does the safety of one's family become less important than an ideal? How does one live with that choice? Is such an act one of supreme faith and idealism or is it one of supreme arrogance and selfishness? And how do we reconcile this?
To me the juice of life lies in making these choices and seeing how they play out. It isn't always about big, high-profile choices that would change the fate of nations, although collectively, the aggregate effect of these smaller choices could do just that. It's more about every one of us and the daily choices we make that would never make the dinner news hour. What if we all lived the life we felt called to live instead of the life that we settle with because it is safer? Would we feel fewer regrets when it comes our time to die? Does one small, courageous choice empower or inspire others to do the same, or bigger? Does it create ripples on the global pond? I hope so.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Reminders
I'm choosing to remind myself today that I am a divine creature (did you ever doubt it?) with a divine purpose - even if I don't always know how to describe what it is. If, as I believe, I create what I think, then I had better get with the program and think positively.
Generally I'm a pretty positive person but I have allowed myself to get off my center lately and I can feel the results. So this evening I sat down with crayons and paper and drew what I think my core being looks like. This isn't the me who walks the street in shoes and a hat. This is the me that I come back to when I have to choose a direction in life. Either/or decisions are not so difficult. I have trouble with the ones where the road seems to have evaporated and I have to decide whether to stay put or set off in some direction across the desert.
Always alert to 'signs' from my 'higher self', I sat down and read an article that Ruth sent me today from SOLARA. It started out by describing just what I'm feeling today:
Next I drew a graphic representation of what I'd like to have in my life. Pictures force me to get away from words and therefore to focus on the grander scale of things and not the minutia. And since paid work, or the present lack of it, is critical right now, I drew a picture of me working. I called it 'be-doing' because I think it should combine being and doing - since I'm a human being and not a human doing AND I like to be doing something that gives me satisfaction.
All very interesting. I have to say that I feel more centered now. I had great support from my mother, Zoe, Janet, Ruth and the coffee clutch today. Thank God for friends.
This is also a good time for me to remind myself of my life-long guiding principles:
Generally I'm a pretty positive person but I have allowed myself to get off my center lately and I can feel the results. So this evening I sat down with crayons and paper and drew what I think my core being looks like. This isn't the me who walks the street in shoes and a hat. This is the me that I come back to when I have to choose a direction in life. Either/or decisions are not so difficult. I have trouble with the ones where the road seems to have evaporated and I have to decide whether to stay put or set off in some direction across the desert.
Always alert to 'signs' from my 'higher self', I sat down and read an article that Ruth sent me today from SOLARA. It started out by describing just what I'm feeling today:
"During the final days of July and the first few days of August, everything came to a seeming halt. It felt as if the track we had been riding upon for a long time was suddenly dismantled. We could travel no further on the old track and had to wait until the new titanium express track was ready for us. ..."I realize that not everyone is feeling this, but I have been. The article reminded me to go inside myself and find my center, or my core, once again. Not bad advice. Not that it means I don't need to do anything else of course, but it's a good place to start when I wobble.
Next I drew a graphic representation of what I'd like to have in my life. Pictures force me to get away from words and therefore to focus on the grander scale of things and not the minutia. And since paid work, or the present lack of it, is critical right now, I drew a picture of me working. I called it 'be-doing' because I think it should combine being and doing - since I'm a human being and not a human doing AND I like to be doing something that gives me satisfaction.
All very interesting. I have to say that I feel more centered now. I had great support from my mother, Zoe, Janet, Ruth and the coffee clutch today. Thank God for friends.
This is also a good time for me to remind myself of my life-long guiding principles:
- do unto others
- leave things as I find them, or better
- always do the best I can with what I have
- share
- do no harm
- be grateful for the blessings that come my way
- graciously accept help when it is offered
- speak the truth as I know it
- be open to learning
- respect myself and others
- there is no such thing as coincidence
- you never know what good things are around the corner
- we never encounter anything in life without being given the resources as well
- I have everything I need to know within my grasp
- we are all connected to one another so we are truly our brother's/sister's keeper
- I am much more than will fit into my tiny earth body
- I am never alone
- helping others is a great privilege
- I am what I believe
- the world is full of opportunities
- energy cannot be destroyed
- linear time is an illusion
- love heals
- you get back what you put out - multiplied
- everything is perfect, given the right perspective
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Mud Roundies
Spencer sent me a link to an interesting article in Friday's Globe and Mail (A Dream Home Made of Mud) which I found in my mailbox this morning. It's about a couple in Victoria who are building a cob house. The article says that the design is more like a conventional house than other ones that have been built recently, and less like a hobbit sort of dwelling. I think it has nice gentle curves to it that take it a notch up from other conventional boxes.
The fact that there are now building codes for this type of building and that they are able to get building permits is encouraging to me. Spencer says he'd like to take a course on how to build a cob house and I agree with him. Not that I have the money to build a house but I'd love to see how it's done. It would be great to write an article about how one is being built - like these house shows on tv.
There was a kids book I used to read to the little people I babysat as a teenager about 'Roundies' and 'Squaries'. I'm definitely a 'Roundy'. That extends to houses and their walls too. Squaries like to follow rules and conventions. Roundies like to jump in puddles and Squaries don't like to get their feet wet. Well, you can see why I'm a Roundy! (Julie, I'm getting much better at getting my feet wet! Truly!)
At the Findhorn Foundation they have been doing some experimental building. Some was done before I got there and some during the time I lived htere, and still more afterwards. I really fell in love with a set of three whiskey barrel houses. They were made from the stays of whiskey barrels and when it was hot you could get drunk on the fumes! The buildings were round and had additions off the side (can you say that if they're round?) if they needed extra space. They were partially snuggled into the sand dunes and had rounded windows and interesting sky-lights.
There was a small, round, one-room sanctuary that was built into a hillock. It was built with stones and utilized used whiskey stays for window frames and a circle of bench seats inside. The roof was grass and had a sky light. It was an incredibly peaceful building with good temperature control through all seasons. This and the houses were my first experience with curved walls and windows and I liked the feeling. I can't even describe it. Some would say that the rounded form is the feminine and the linear is the masculine. I think we need a combination of the two in our lives and perhaps we don't yet have enough of the feminine to balance the masculine.
Cob walls are made from mud and straw and are one type of natural wall. You can also use straw bales. I saw a program on TV a little while ago that showed how to build a straw bale house. You cut the bales to shape, pack them and cover them with wire mesh, and then you cover them with cement on the outside and plaster on the inside. The walls end up thicker than conventional walls and the extra depth creates a lovely hush inside.
I also picked up a book from the library this year about yurts. The first time I saw a yurt was in a film about Mongolian nomads. The yurts are are collapsible, cloth or skin-covered, round dwellings. A very old design. I liked the feel of the interior space a lot. I'm not sure I could do a winter in one without making the walls a little more wind-proof and insulated, which they can do, but it's the round design that I like.
Spencer, who seems to share my interest in alternative ways to build houses, also found a structure on a web site that looks a bit like a geodesic dome and hangs in tall trees out in the woods. It didn't look all that weather-proof or permanent to me but it was very light inside - maybe a summer house.
Years ago I read a book called The Not So Big House, written by two women architects in the US. I really like the idea of living in less space but having it designed so that it's more flexible and more environmentally friendly. They suggested that you build personal touches into the house so that it really has character and soul. So far, they haven't designed in the round but hey, give them time!
Thanks Spencer for inspiring me to think about round spaces again.
The fact that there are now building codes for this type of building and that they are able to get building permits is encouraging to me. Spencer says he'd like to take a course on how to build a cob house and I agree with him. Not that I have the money to build a house but I'd love to see how it's done. It would be great to write an article about how one is being built - like these house shows on tv.
There was a kids book I used to read to the little people I babysat as a teenager about 'Roundies' and 'Squaries'. I'm definitely a 'Roundy'. That extends to houses and their walls too. Squaries like to follow rules and conventions. Roundies like to jump in puddles and Squaries don't like to get their feet wet. Well, you can see why I'm a Roundy! (Julie, I'm getting much better at getting my feet wet! Truly!)
At the Findhorn Foundation they have been doing some experimental building. Some was done before I got there and some during the time I lived htere, and still more afterwards. I really fell in love with a set of three whiskey barrel houses. They were made from the stays of whiskey barrels and when it was hot you could get drunk on the fumes! The buildings were round and had additions off the side (can you say that if they're round?) if they needed extra space. They were partially snuggled into the sand dunes and had rounded windows and interesting sky-lights.
There was a small, round, one-room sanctuary that was built into a hillock. It was built with stones and utilized used whiskey stays for window frames and a circle of bench seats inside. The roof was grass and had a sky light. It was an incredibly peaceful building with good temperature control through all seasons. This and the houses were my first experience with curved walls and windows and I liked the feeling. I can't even describe it. Some would say that the rounded form is the feminine and the linear is the masculine. I think we need a combination of the two in our lives and perhaps we don't yet have enough of the feminine to balance the masculine.
Cob walls are made from mud and straw and are one type of natural wall. You can also use straw bales. I saw a program on TV a little while ago that showed how to build a straw bale house. You cut the bales to shape, pack them and cover them with wire mesh, and then you cover them with cement on the outside and plaster on the inside. The walls end up thicker than conventional walls and the extra depth creates a lovely hush inside.
I also picked up a book from the library this year about yurts. The first time I saw a yurt was in a film about Mongolian nomads. The yurts are are collapsible, cloth or skin-covered, round dwellings. A very old design. I liked the feel of the interior space a lot. I'm not sure I could do a winter in one without making the walls a little more wind-proof and insulated, which they can do, but it's the round design that I like.
Spencer, who seems to share my interest in alternative ways to build houses, also found a structure on a web site that looks a bit like a geodesic dome and hangs in tall trees out in the woods. It didn't look all that weather-proof or permanent to me but it was very light inside - maybe a summer house.
Years ago I read a book called The Not So Big House, written by two women architects in the US. I really like the idea of living in less space but having it designed so that it's more flexible and more environmentally friendly. They suggested that you build personal touches into the house so that it really has character and soul. So far, they haven't designed in the round but hey, give them time!
Thanks Spencer for inspiring me to think about round spaces again.
Today's ghosties
I walked into Nori's house after coffee this afternoon and she said, "Oh! There's a black shadow by the door there." I was pushing the wheel chair into the kitchen and her friend Maggie was right behind me. Once I closed the door behind us I could immediately feel a presence. A shiver of energy went right up my body from toes to head and my eyes got glassy. I walked into the studio and asked who was there and what they wanted.
The presence felt like a man and he was still there; just further into the front room. He said he liked to be in the studio and that he often comes down when she is out. I told Nori this. It didn't phase her at all. I think she quite likes to have spirits around. Maggie said that perhaps he used to live in the house and that felt right to me as well. I didn't have the feeling that he was the original owner but he hasn't lived there recently. He told me that he usually stays upstairs and only comes down when she's out.
I have been in and out of Nori's house a lot over the last three years and I have never felt him before. He really must stay out of sight, so-to-speak. That's all we got. He doesn't mean her any harm and she's not bothered in the least.
This evening I have been puzzling about why he was there today. Why show himself now? I did wonder if this is related at all to my trip up to see Janet in the Yukon. When I give a talk, might this be something that people would want to know about? I don't have a huge amount of experience with ghosts but what I do have tells me that I can feel them and I can talk to them. Maggie was interested because we validated the feeling that she had when we walked in and reacted to the ghost/spirit, that she said she might not have trusted if she had been on her own.
The presence felt like a man and he was still there; just further into the front room. He said he liked to be in the studio and that he often comes down when she is out. I told Nori this. It didn't phase her at all. I think she quite likes to have spirits around. Maggie said that perhaps he used to live in the house and that felt right to me as well. I didn't have the feeling that he was the original owner but he hasn't lived there recently. He told me that he usually stays upstairs and only comes down when she's out.
I have been in and out of Nori's house a lot over the last three years and I have never felt him before. He really must stay out of sight, so-to-speak. That's all we got. He doesn't mean her any harm and she's not bothered in the least.
This evening I have been puzzling about why he was there today. Why show himself now? I did wonder if this is related at all to my trip up to see Janet in the Yukon. When I give a talk, might this be something that people would want to know about? I don't have a huge amount of experience with ghosts but what I do have tells me that I can feel them and I can talk to them. Maggie was interested because we validated the feeling that she had when we walked in and reacted to the ghost/spirit, that she said she might not have trusted if she had been on her own.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Garbage
The city workers in Vancouver are on strike right now and that includes the garbage collectors. Fortunately we're not having a particularly hot summer and that helps a lot as the garbage piles up. We went through this when they negotiated their last contract and so we're familiar with what happens with the garbage piling up and what to do to limit the adverse effects. At the moment we have no idea how long this might last.
We're about two weeks in and the immediately effect of this strike on me is that I'm having to carefully separate out the dry from the wet garbage. Last summer we eliminated the compost bin so I can't use that to keep the garbage level down. We weren't using the compost bin correctly and the fruit refuse in particular was attracting rats. I found out about this when they got into the house and into the walls, and kept me company in the evenings by scratching and gnawing. I'm happy to say that they weren't on my side of the walls but that's the end of the up-side. Now the compost bin is gone, the rats are gone also - thank God!
I confess that I don't really know very much about what this strike is all about. I don't read the newspapers because I find that they depress me with a view of the world that I don't find helpful. However, without the papers and watching the news on TV, or listening to it on the radio, none of which I do, you do hear snippets of conversation around you.
One I heard was that the union is complaining that the contract being offered is for 39 months, just getting the city past the Olympics without having to worry about another strike with a city full of visitors. This demonstrates a lack of good will and trust. It may be justifiable but who can say ahead of time and both sides are being wary. Another I heard was that the cost-of-living increase being offered is more than fair and don't we all wish we had such a deal. And the loudest one I heard was that garbage collectors shouldn't be allowed to strike as uncollected garbage is a risk to public health and should be classified an essential service.
I have a perception, untested it's true, that it isn't easy to find out what's really going on. It feels like everyone has an axe to grind and that each side has a vested interest in making the other's side look impossibly unreasonable. I confess that I don't trust the media. It's sort of entrenched in my thinking now. I find it hard work, and often impossible, to figure out what's the truth and so I give up on the whole thing. It isn't just the facts, or fallacies, that bother me. It's the way the information is presented. They sensationalize. They focus on the negative. They pedal fear. In any case, it seems to me that they do.
Judging by how often sales people from the two major newspapers in the city call me at dinner time to try to convince me that I need to buy a subscription, I imagine that I'm not the only person who has given up on newspapers. The glimpses I get of TV news and the bits of radio news I catch when I'm out, have not convinced me that anything has changed in the years since I gave up on them. However, I admit that I am so prejudiced now that I haven't given them another chance. They may have gone through a radical change and I wouldn't know.
I do read the little local paper which happens to have a couple of columnists who express views about our community that are closer to mine than anything else I've come across. The paper has it's negative and sensational moments but it's not too bad. When it comes to the bigger news of the day, I watch a few in-depth documentary programs on TV, although I'm even a little suspicious of them. I get a few e-newsletters and I listen to a few friends whom I consider to be more savvy about the news than I am, but that's it.
I feel a bit guilty that I don't do much more than vote with my feet, or my wallet. Deep down I beleive that if I want my community to change, then I should do something more positive than refusing to eat what they put on the table. I feel a bit surly and childish. But quite frankly, I don't want to spend my time pushing for the news/information vehicles to reform. I hope and pray that someone else out there does. I will support them when they do.
I suppose I have a belief, convenient to-be-sure, that each of us has a list of battles we are prepared to wage and those that we are not. News is not one of mine. Eating organic produce is. With the small income I have right now, I am still eating organic food - not totally but as much as I can. I'm willing to make that sacrifice for what I believe in. I'm not sure what makes that a higher priority for me than the news but it is. I own up to it.
At this point in my life, I confess I have an allergy to adversarial systems and the city versus the city workers union feels like an adversarial situation. And that's not to mention the tactics that such systems use to try and garner support for their side of the argument. If you subscribe to an adversarial system, then it figures that you would communicate about it in an adversarial fashion. It seems self-perpetuating. I'd like to get off this merry-go-round! It's making me feel sick.
I said at the beginning of this year that I think 2007 is the tipping point. I'd like to leave my blog today on a positive note, so I am choosing to have faith that someone is going to do some small thing that will be the last straw needed to cause a radical change. Maybe someone is doing it as I write this thought. It could happen. Wouldn't that be a fine thing?
We're about two weeks in and the immediately effect of this strike on me is that I'm having to carefully separate out the dry from the wet garbage. Last summer we eliminated the compost bin so I can't use that to keep the garbage level down. We weren't using the compost bin correctly and the fruit refuse in particular was attracting rats. I found out about this when they got into the house and into the walls, and kept me company in the evenings by scratching and gnawing. I'm happy to say that they weren't on my side of the walls but that's the end of the up-side. Now the compost bin is gone, the rats are gone also - thank God!
I confess that I don't really know very much about what this strike is all about. I don't read the newspapers because I find that they depress me with a view of the world that I don't find helpful. However, without the papers and watching the news on TV, or listening to it on the radio, none of which I do, you do hear snippets of conversation around you.
One I heard was that the union is complaining that the contract being offered is for 39 months, just getting the city past the Olympics without having to worry about another strike with a city full of visitors. This demonstrates a lack of good will and trust. It may be justifiable but who can say ahead of time and both sides are being wary. Another I heard was that the cost-of-living increase being offered is more than fair and don't we all wish we had such a deal. And the loudest one I heard was that garbage collectors shouldn't be allowed to strike as uncollected garbage is a risk to public health and should be classified an essential service.
I have a perception, untested it's true, that it isn't easy to find out what's really going on. It feels like everyone has an axe to grind and that each side has a vested interest in making the other's side look impossibly unreasonable. I confess that I don't trust the media. It's sort of entrenched in my thinking now. I find it hard work, and often impossible, to figure out what's the truth and so I give up on the whole thing. It isn't just the facts, or fallacies, that bother me. It's the way the information is presented. They sensationalize. They focus on the negative. They pedal fear. In any case, it seems to me that they do.
Judging by how often sales people from the two major newspapers in the city call me at dinner time to try to convince me that I need to buy a subscription, I imagine that I'm not the only person who has given up on newspapers. The glimpses I get of TV news and the bits of radio news I catch when I'm out, have not convinced me that anything has changed in the years since I gave up on them. However, I admit that I am so prejudiced now that I haven't given them another chance. They may have gone through a radical change and I wouldn't know.
I do read the little local paper which happens to have a couple of columnists who express views about our community that are closer to mine than anything else I've come across. The paper has it's negative and sensational moments but it's not too bad. When it comes to the bigger news of the day, I watch a few in-depth documentary programs on TV, although I'm even a little suspicious of them. I get a few e-newsletters and I listen to a few friends whom I consider to be more savvy about the news than I am, but that's it.
I feel a bit guilty that I don't do much more than vote with my feet, or my wallet. Deep down I beleive that if I want my community to change, then I should do something more positive than refusing to eat what they put on the table. I feel a bit surly and childish. But quite frankly, I don't want to spend my time pushing for the news/information vehicles to reform. I hope and pray that someone else out there does. I will support them when they do.
I suppose I have a belief, convenient to-be-sure, that each of us has a list of battles we are prepared to wage and those that we are not. News is not one of mine. Eating organic produce is. With the small income I have right now, I am still eating organic food - not totally but as much as I can. I'm willing to make that sacrifice for what I believe in. I'm not sure what makes that a higher priority for me than the news but it is. I own up to it.
At this point in my life, I confess I have an allergy to adversarial systems and the city versus the city workers union feels like an adversarial situation. And that's not to mention the tactics that such systems use to try and garner support for their side of the argument. If you subscribe to an adversarial system, then it figures that you would communicate about it in an adversarial fashion. It seems self-perpetuating. I'd like to get off this merry-go-round! It's making me feel sick.
I said at the beginning of this year that I think 2007 is the tipping point. I'd like to leave my blog today on a positive note, so I am choosing to have faith that someone is going to do some small thing that will be the last straw needed to cause a radical change. Maybe someone is doing it as I write this thought. It could happen. Wouldn't that be a fine thing?
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Come walk with me
I thought I'd take you on a little walk with me through my neighbourhood. It's just a few shots but you'll get the idea. My apologies to those of you who are already familiar with this. Maybe you can show it to someone who hasn't been here. I confess this is mostly for the benefit of Lynne and Ruth. Let's start at the path just outside my French doors.
Below is a shot of my block heading west towards the street where I go to shop and have coffee.
This is a fairly new sunflower plant in a garden on the next block. It shot up in a matter of days.
Below is the row of Linden trees on the next block - the ones that I say are giving me the human equivalent of a car wash as I walk under them. They're messy but shapely and wonderful, especially when they're in full bloom in June. The scent is exquisite!
I'm not showing you the house in this shot - just the big fig tree. They're late this year. You see these all through this neighbourhood, often covered in blue netting to keep the birds off.
In this one I am showing you the house. It's under renovation - in fact it's being gutted, as are so many others in the neighbourhood. As the house prices climb, more and more people are buying these little stucco post-war houses, of which there are many, and redoing them. The left hand windows have been removed and are boarded over and the right one is open.
This next one, on the way to coffee, is Nori's house. It's on the opposite side and two and a half blocks west of me. The figures on the house are hers and created a great kerfuffle when she put them up as they were seen by some to be lewd and pornographic. We don't do well with anything 'naked' in this part of the world!
You would think the 'seemliness police' would have had a worse time with this next one, but no. This hangs over Nori's front door and was sculpted by her friend Ken, an occasional coffee clutcher.
This one is our gelato emporium on the corner of my street and The Drive where they make the stuff fresh every day in a multitude of yummy flavours. They also sell a mean home-made fruit pie. Very decadent. To the right of the doors is a mural of Italy, hand painted a few summers ago by a young guy.
Right across the street, still on our corner, is Norman's fruit and salad store. They use as much space outside during the day as they do inside. This shot looks south along Commercial Drive, the main drag, towards the Napoli.
And here's the number 20 bus that I take to get downtown to sort library books. It stops right outside the Napoli. They run every ten minutes so you see a lot of them.
You've already seen shots inside the Napoli so I'll return home and show you the house. The Canadian flag over the front porch is Geoff's addition.
In the shot below, my living room window is the one on the lower left. More light comes in on the side where I have french doors onto a small patio that I call my 'poop deck'. Sorry, that picture didn't turn out.
Here's the end of the tour for today. This side of the house is mine. You can see my little patio and the doors are just to the right. The ground floor window is my bedroom. There you have it - my little corner of the world.
Below is a shot of my block heading west towards the street where I go to shop and have coffee.
This is a fairly new sunflower plant in a garden on the next block. It shot up in a matter of days.
Below is the row of Linden trees on the next block - the ones that I say are giving me the human equivalent of a car wash as I walk under them. They're messy but shapely and wonderful, especially when they're in full bloom in June. The scent is exquisite!
I'm not showing you the house in this shot - just the big fig tree. They're late this year. You see these all through this neighbourhood, often covered in blue netting to keep the birds off.
In this one I am showing you the house. It's under renovation - in fact it's being gutted, as are so many others in the neighbourhood. As the house prices climb, more and more people are buying these little stucco post-war houses, of which there are many, and redoing them. The left hand windows have been removed and are boarded over and the right one is open.
This next one, on the way to coffee, is Nori's house. It's on the opposite side and two and a half blocks west of me. The figures on the house are hers and created a great kerfuffle when she put them up as they were seen by some to be lewd and pornographic. We don't do well with anything 'naked' in this part of the world!
You would think the 'seemliness police' would have had a worse time with this next one, but no. This hangs over Nori's front door and was sculpted by her friend Ken, an occasional coffee clutcher.
This one is our gelato emporium on the corner of my street and The Drive where they make the stuff fresh every day in a multitude of yummy flavours. They also sell a mean home-made fruit pie. Very decadent. To the right of the doors is a mural of Italy, hand painted a few summers ago by a young guy.
Right across the street, still on our corner, is Norman's fruit and salad store. They use as much space outside during the day as they do inside. This shot looks south along Commercial Drive, the main drag, towards the Napoli.
And here's the number 20 bus that I take to get downtown to sort library books. It stops right outside the Napoli. They run every ten minutes so you see a lot of them.
You've already seen shots inside the Napoli so I'll return home and show you the house. The Canadian flag over the front porch is Geoff's addition.
In the shot below, my living room window is the one on the lower left. More light comes in on the side where I have french doors onto a small patio that I call my 'poop deck'. Sorry, that picture didn't turn out.
Here's the end of the tour for today. This side of the house is mine. You can see my little patio and the doors are just to the right. The ground floor window is my bedroom. There you have it - my little corner of the world.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Friendship
I saw a French film this evening called "My Best Friend" - thanks to Spencer's excellent recommendation. It was a gentle black comedy about a middle-aged man who has no friends and is told this by his female business partner. He is stunned by this statement because he thinks that his busy life is full of friends - his appointment book is full, he says. She points out that these are business contacts and not friends. He doesn't know what she is talking about and insists that he has a best friend - which he doesn't. She challenges him to come up with one by the end of the month - ten days away. They make a large wager and so starts his search - and the film.
I came out of the theatre thinking about what a rare and wonderful thing friendship is. It isn't really something you can orchestrate. Acquaintanceships and contacts can be engineered but even those are better when there is some serendipity involved.
I can remember meeting all my significant friends. I know what they were doing, what I was doing and what the scene was, at the instant of meeting. It's like a snapshot in my head that I can go back and look at. All my friends are different and unique. None could ever be exchanged for another. Each brings a precious point of view, way of being, talent, disposition and sense of humour, and timing.
Not all of my friendships have lasted a long time but that doesn't make them any less precious to me. They're all from different age groups and cultures. I like them because they are not like me. Sure, their values are similar, but they teach me and stretch me to see things from another point of view.
Fleur and I were in the car a little while ago, before Geoff died, and she said to me that she's surprised by our friendship because it's unlikely. We have very different interests and careers, friends, backgrounds, even daily rhythms. In the normal run of things, we might never have met. It was Aidan who was instrumental in bringing us together.
I met Julie in a class in high school, Janet when I read her name on her trunk in the hallway in our first residence at university, Zoe at a talk in her living room in Jerusalem, Ruth in a little village in Scotland, Spencer at Nori's Christmas party in her garage, Nori at a local cafe on the Drive, Lynne on the day I had an interview for a part-time job at a local college here in Vancouver, Claudia when she came to me for a reading in North Vancouver when I was recommended to her by another friend, and Marigold ... well I didn't need an introduction.
And that's all of you reading this blog, as far as I know, and whomever else you share it with. I was saying to Behzad today, when he was saying that he has friends spread all over the world, that it's like a web. You can tug on one strand in one corner and the tug is felt all through the web. We all take a little bit of one another wherever we go and whatever we do. I'm much more aware of how all of you affect me than I am of how I affect you. Maybe friendship is like that.
How we make friends and how we keep them takes some practical skill and it's also an odd alchemical process, as evidenced by the fact that sometimes you can do all the 'right' things and the friendship doesn't gel. The same as with lovers; there has to be a little je-ne-sais-quoi or it's not special. I like that.
Vive mes amis!
I came out of the theatre thinking about what a rare and wonderful thing friendship is. It isn't really something you can orchestrate. Acquaintanceships and contacts can be engineered but even those are better when there is some serendipity involved.
I can remember meeting all my significant friends. I know what they were doing, what I was doing and what the scene was, at the instant of meeting. It's like a snapshot in my head that I can go back and look at. All my friends are different and unique. None could ever be exchanged for another. Each brings a precious point of view, way of being, talent, disposition and sense of humour, and timing.
Not all of my friendships have lasted a long time but that doesn't make them any less precious to me. They're all from different age groups and cultures. I like them because they are not like me. Sure, their values are similar, but they teach me and stretch me to see things from another point of view.
Fleur and I were in the car a little while ago, before Geoff died, and she said to me that she's surprised by our friendship because it's unlikely. We have very different interests and careers, friends, backgrounds, even daily rhythms. In the normal run of things, we might never have met. It was Aidan who was instrumental in bringing us together.
I met Julie in a class in high school, Janet when I read her name on her trunk in the hallway in our first residence at university, Zoe at a talk in her living room in Jerusalem, Ruth in a little village in Scotland, Spencer at Nori's Christmas party in her garage, Nori at a local cafe on the Drive, Lynne on the day I had an interview for a part-time job at a local college here in Vancouver, Claudia when she came to me for a reading in North Vancouver when I was recommended to her by another friend, and Marigold ... well I didn't need an introduction.
And that's all of you reading this blog, as far as I know, and whomever else you share it with. I was saying to Behzad today, when he was saying that he has friends spread all over the world, that it's like a web. You can tug on one strand in one corner and the tug is felt all through the web. We all take a little bit of one another wherever we go and whatever we do. I'm much more aware of how all of you affect me than I am of how I affect you. Maybe friendship is like that.
How we make friends and how we keep them takes some practical skill and it's also an odd alchemical process, as evidenced by the fact that sometimes you can do all the 'right' things and the friendship doesn't gel. The same as with lovers; there has to be a little je-ne-sais-quoi or it's not special. I like that.
Vive mes amis!
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Projecting ahead to Whitehorse
My friend Janet is readying herself for her daughter Iris' imminent fall departure for Toronto and the beginning of her dance education at York University. Alan, her eldest hasn't left home yet because he's saving for a music school in Los Angeles and hasn't got enough money yet. They're quite the artistically talented family. Just after Iris leaves, I will arrive for a visit and sleep in Iris' newly vacated room. (Thanks Iris for the hospitality)
Janet suggested that I might be able to give a talk in Whitehorse and maybe find some interested takers for a few private sessions while I'm there. With this in mind, I have been giving some thought to what I might talk about and how to publicise it before I arrive. I have the feeling that I should talk to the needs of the group, which means that I will know what I should say as I sit in front of them. But I have to entice them to come in the first place. I'm considering how to explain how I work when I'm in a group like that and how that might be useful and/or interesting to participate in.
I thought I should design a flyer and send it to Janet electronically. I could even post it on a few electronic bulletin boards, in addition to the cork kind. I wonder who might be interested: people in the business community who might want to know about coaching or have an organizational reading; people in the so-called 'alternative' community who might be interested in a reading, or even in getting some friends together for a group reading; or any individuals who might want to know more about listening to their own intuition, or what it's like to be psychic. I've also considered that there might be some teenagers who are interested in what I do or in what I might be able to channel. I would have loved that sort of thing as a teenager and wish I'd had that sort of opportunity.
Really I'm thinking out loud. Writing is a way to stimulate my creative juices, so I'll just continue ... Publicising a specific topic for a talk might catch people's interest but on the other hand it might be limiting. I love the adventure of not know what might come out of my mouth to meet the needs and interests of the people who show up. Although it requires a huge amount of trust and I have to be on the ball to do it, it's really quite exciting.
I'm anticipating that Janet will have to work for part of the time that I'm there so I could do a few sessions while she's at work. I'd just need a centrally located room in which to meet people. Maybe someone would donate one, or barter for one. This sounds better and better the more I write! I'm going to really enjoy this.
You guys know me best. Do you have any ideas?
Janet suggested that I might be able to give a talk in Whitehorse and maybe find some interested takers for a few private sessions while I'm there. With this in mind, I have been giving some thought to what I might talk about and how to publicise it before I arrive. I have the feeling that I should talk to the needs of the group, which means that I will know what I should say as I sit in front of them. But I have to entice them to come in the first place. I'm considering how to explain how I work when I'm in a group like that and how that might be useful and/or interesting to participate in.
I thought I should design a flyer and send it to Janet electronically. I could even post it on a few electronic bulletin boards, in addition to the cork kind. I wonder who might be interested: people in the business community who might want to know about coaching or have an organizational reading; people in the so-called 'alternative' community who might be interested in a reading, or even in getting some friends together for a group reading; or any individuals who might want to know more about listening to their own intuition, or what it's like to be psychic. I've also considered that there might be some teenagers who are interested in what I do or in what I might be able to channel. I would have loved that sort of thing as a teenager and wish I'd had that sort of opportunity.
Really I'm thinking out loud. Writing is a way to stimulate my creative juices, so I'll just continue ... Publicising a specific topic for a talk might catch people's interest but on the other hand it might be limiting. I love the adventure of not know what might come out of my mouth to meet the needs and interests of the people who show up. Although it requires a huge amount of trust and I have to be on the ball to do it, it's really quite exciting.
I'm anticipating that Janet will have to work for part of the time that I'm there so I could do a few sessions while she's at work. I'd just need a centrally located room in which to meet people. Maybe someone would donate one, or barter for one. This sounds better and better the more I write! I'm going to really enjoy this.
You guys know me best. Do you have any ideas?
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
With the help of a candle
I thought I'd seen a lot when it comes to communing with the dead but this evening my mother and I were about to watch television only to find that my VCR was flashing its time and power lights in alternating rhythm and not working. We hadn't had any power disruptions and it got messed up from one minute to the next. This electrical conundrum followed closely on the heels a neighbour kindly pointing out to us that my mother's car headlights were on. She went and turned off the headlights, wondering how she could possibly have inadvertently turned them on. They weren't on when we had got into the car not an hour before and we hadn't touched them since. Fleur made an offhand comment, half jokingly, saying "Oh, it was probably Geoff trying to get our attention" - not a normal sort of comment for her to make. Later, when my VCR went on the fritz, it made us wonder.
Yesterday, I set up a little memorial to Geoff in my living room, just for a week or so. I put a pillar candle on a table along with a card that he made for me last fall and a vase that he had chosen for the family to give me for my birthday a few years ago. The neck of the vase is really tiny and I have two small feathers stuck into the opening. After dinner this evening, once it was dark, I lit the candle. When the VCR conked out and wouldn't be revived, I wondered out loud if it really was Geoff trying to talk to us. In my usual style, I started to look up at the ceiling and talk to him - the way I do with all discarnate beings - don't we all.
Nothing was coming through clearly so I got my pendulum out and tried that. As I asked questions and watched which way the pendulum swung, my mother was idly looking at the flame of the candle. Incidentally, since I'd had it burning yesterday evening, the flame was below the level of the top of the candle. It was alternating between being completely still and dancing wildly, and seemed to be doing it in relation to the questions I was asking. Neither of us could quite believe our eyes but we gave up on the pendulum and started asking yes/no questions to see what the candle did. Having never done this before, we're not sure if we can rely on what happened but it was very strange and we think, successful.
I should mention here that the feathers in the vase didn't budge, even while the candle flame danced. Although I'm sure there was some air movement, it wasn't much and not enough to stir the feathers. The candle is still dancing now but it's doing it constantly. As I asked questions, my mother found she was feeling colder and colder. I wasn't chilly at all so she held out her hands for me to feel how cold she was. They felt as warm as usual to me. If we really were contacting Geoff, then we wondered if perhaps he was drawing on her energy in order to make the flame move.
Life is so interesting! Who knows what was going on with the electrics and the candle. My VCR seems to be buggered for the time being but we kept ourselves amused for the evening in a way that was more interesting than the TV would have been. Anyone for a seance?
Yesterday, I set up a little memorial to Geoff in my living room, just for a week or so. I put a pillar candle on a table along with a card that he made for me last fall and a vase that he had chosen for the family to give me for my birthday a few years ago. The neck of the vase is really tiny and I have two small feathers stuck into the opening. After dinner this evening, once it was dark, I lit the candle. When the VCR conked out and wouldn't be revived, I wondered out loud if it really was Geoff trying to talk to us. In my usual style, I started to look up at the ceiling and talk to him - the way I do with all discarnate beings - don't we all.
Nothing was coming through clearly so I got my pendulum out and tried that. As I asked questions and watched which way the pendulum swung, my mother was idly looking at the flame of the candle. Incidentally, since I'd had it burning yesterday evening, the flame was below the level of the top of the candle. It was alternating between being completely still and dancing wildly, and seemed to be doing it in relation to the questions I was asking. Neither of us could quite believe our eyes but we gave up on the pendulum and started asking yes/no questions to see what the candle did. Having never done this before, we're not sure if we can rely on what happened but it was very strange and we think, successful.
I should mention here that the feathers in the vase didn't budge, even while the candle flame danced. Although I'm sure there was some air movement, it wasn't much and not enough to stir the feathers. The candle is still dancing now but it's doing it constantly. As I asked questions, my mother found she was feeling colder and colder. I wasn't chilly at all so she held out her hands for me to feel how cold she was. They felt as warm as usual to me. If we really were contacting Geoff, then we wondered if perhaps he was drawing on her energy in order to make the flame move.
Life is so interesting! Who knows what was going on with the electrics and the candle. My VCR seems to be buggered for the time being but we kept ourselves amused for the evening in a way that was more interesting than the TV would have been. Anyone for a seance?
Monday, July 23, 2007
A friend a day keeps the doctor away
I'm feeling especially appreciative today because I have great friends. I don't mean to be sappy about it but I really do have friends who are special. I believe that strong relationships, even if they be halfway around the world, keep us healthy, wealthy and wise.
My mantra for a while now has been, "I have all the resources I need, as and when I need them." I count my friends as being among those essential resources. One of my friends sent me a magnet that says it takes a long time to make an old friend and it's so true - but you can start any time. Before you know it, there's another 'old' friend.
Anyway, I digress. I was thinking that friendships are like gardens in many ways...
We have to tend them. Sometimes we even have to go and dig them up to see how they're doing. (I really like this metaphor!) Spraying them with pesticides is not a good move but weeding them is essential. Occasionally, you find that a particular friend doesn't grow well in your garden and you replace the person with someone better suited to your conditions. It certainly doesn't mean that the person is a bad plant - just that the conditions don't suit. Or you may even find that one friend doesn't work well growing beside another one. You might have to tend them separately by putting them in separate sides of the garden.
Some friends are so strong and persistent that you could call them a weed. I mean that in the best way possible. Weeds are just plants that are ideally suited to that locale, albeit a little pushy. Sometimes you have to curb their enthusiasm!
Sometimes friends get blight or are eaten by slugs. Slugs are really bad - slimy individuals. They have a right to exist, but I don't want them in my garden, eating my friends!
Some friends go dormant during the winter months and then bloom in the summer. Others only last one season. Not all of them are 'old friends' but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy them while they're around.
Occasionally a friendship needs fertilizing or special attention. And they always need recognition and praise and to be talked to, even if it's electronically. I have a few that thrive on great music and several that like to be temporarily transplanted.
There are often great contrasts in a well-balanced garden. Some friends are so delicious you could eat them right up and others are decidedly prickly and stand-offish, but have a beautiful flower or are great at warding off garden predators. Some stand proudly in the sun and create quite a show and others are more bashful and like the shade best.
Lately I have needed friends who can stake me and put some twine around me to hold me up. I think I had a hard winter and got nipped by the frost. Last season I bore a lot of fruit and this season I need a rest. Gardens are good at compensating that way. Another of my friends can create the best blooms for the flower show this year and I will keep growing in a sheltered corner.
Have I exhausted the metaphor yet? I think so. Anyway, thanks for growing in my garden, and for occasionally acting as master gardener.
My mantra for a while now has been, "I have all the resources I need, as and when I need them." I count my friends as being among those essential resources. One of my friends sent me a magnet that says it takes a long time to make an old friend and it's so true - but you can start any time. Before you know it, there's another 'old' friend.
Janet posted another picture of her very healthy-looking vegetable garden the other day. Robust, I would call it! What do you think? (Janet I hope you don't mind that I stole your pic!) 
I assume the potatoes are growing according to schedule now as I haven't heard to the contrary. For a while she kept fretting on her blog that they weren't growing enough and she thought she was doing something wrong. My mother said, "Yes, she's digging them up to look at them. Tell her to leave them in the ground!" I had to chuckle.
I assume the potatoes are growing according to schedule now as I haven't heard to the contrary. For a while she kept fretting on her blog that they weren't growing enough and she thought she was doing something wrong. My mother said, "Yes, she's digging them up to look at them. Tell her to leave them in the ground!" I had to chuckle.Anyway, I digress. I was thinking that friendships are like gardens in many ways...
We have to tend them. Sometimes we even have to go and dig them up to see how they're doing. (I really like this metaphor!) Spraying them with pesticides is not a good move but weeding them is essential. Occasionally, you find that a particular friend doesn't grow well in your garden and you replace the person with someone better suited to your conditions. It certainly doesn't mean that the person is a bad plant - just that the conditions don't suit. Or you may even find that one friend doesn't work well growing beside another one. You might have to tend them separately by putting them in separate sides of the garden.
Some friends are so strong and persistent that you could call them a weed. I mean that in the best way possible. Weeds are just plants that are ideally suited to that locale, albeit a little pushy. Sometimes you have to curb their enthusiasm!
Sometimes friends get blight or are eaten by slugs. Slugs are really bad - slimy individuals. They have a right to exist, but I don't want them in my garden, eating my friends!
Some friends go dormant during the winter months and then bloom in the summer. Others only last one season. Not all of them are 'old friends' but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy them while they're around.
Occasionally a friendship needs fertilizing or special attention. And they always need recognition and praise and to be talked to, even if it's electronically. I have a few that thrive on great music and several that like to be temporarily transplanted.
There are often great contrasts in a well-balanced garden. Some friends are so delicious you could eat them right up and others are decidedly prickly and stand-offish, but have a beautiful flower or are great at warding off garden predators. Some stand proudly in the sun and create quite a show and others are more bashful and like the shade best.
Lately I have needed friends who can stake me and put some twine around me to hold me up. I think I had a hard winter and got nipped by the frost. Last season I bore a lot of fruit and this season I need a rest. Gardens are good at compensating that way. Another of my friends can create the best blooms for the flower show this year and I will keep growing in a sheltered corner.
Have I exhausted the metaphor yet? I think so. Anyway, thanks for growing in my garden, and for occasionally acting as master gardener.
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