Category Archives: Contemplative INtentions

Reclaiming the Merry: A Tale of Christmas Rediscovered

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Watercolour & Pen on watercolour paper

Maybe it’s because I’ve been feeling overwhelmed lately, grappling with worries about my sister’s health (though still in ICU, she’s slowly improving every day). Or perhaps it’s just exhaustion setting in. But this year, contrary to my usual practice of keeping Christmas at bay until after my birthday on December 9th, I’m letting its festive spirit seep in a bit earlier.

In my studio, I’ve found myself eagerly creating Christmas-themed images – with watercolours no less! A medium I seldom work in. It’s been fun and I’ve even planned the name tags for our dinner table on the big day—a rarity for me, as I often convince myself that working under the pressure of an imminent deadline is the ultimate creativity booster.

However, the truth is, deadlines and pressure don’t really inspire creativity. In fact, I find that planning, researching ideas, and experimenting with different themes and tablescapes are far more conducive to sparking my creative juices.

This resistance to early Christmas celebrations stems from my childhood. My birthday often got overshadowed by the festive season, with ‘the party’ frequently skipped over because Christmas was a grand affair in our home. My parents would be busy in the kitchen, crafting culinary masterpieces with the same zeal I imagine Santa’s elves demonstrate while preparing toys for children around the world.

As an adult, I decided that my birthday mattered and that Christmas could wait its turn.

Despite my efforts, however, the omnipresence of Christmas is undeniable. The moment Halloween decorations are put away, big box stores are awash with Christmas paraphernalia.

It’s challenging to escape the Christmas frenzy, whether you’re a believer in the Christ-child or not. The season’s spirit permeates the air, with twinkling lights adorning lampposts and front doors decked out in festive bows, bells, and baubles.

This year, as Christmas nudges its way into my consciousness earlier than usual, I realize there’s a silver lining to embracing its spirit ahead of my birthday. It’s an opportunity to redefine the essence of this festive season in my own terms, to make it about more than just the glitz, glitter and glam.

The fact is, it’s almost impossible to ignore the commercialization of Christmas. At the same time, however, its important we not lose sight of its true meaning. It’s not about the biggest tree, the most expensive gifts, or the most elaborate decorations. Rather, it’s about the warmth of family kand friends gathered around a dinner table, the joy of baking cookies with children, and the laughter that fills the air when friends reconnect. It’s about the simple acts of kindness, the moments of quiet reflection, and the recognition of our shared humanity.

This holiday season, no matter your celebration or remembrance, I invite you to join me in shifting your focus from spending to sharing, from buying to being. Let’s make Christmas a time to honor the joy of human connection, to cherish the moments spent with loved ones, and to reach out to those who might be alone during this season. In doing so, we not only honour the spirit of Christmas but also enrich our own lives with genuine happiness and contentment.

As I look forward to celebrating my birthday and then Christmas, I am reminded that the greatest gift I can give and receive is the gift of presence. Presence in the moment, presence in the lives of those I care about, and presence in the joyous celebration of life itself.

This Christmas, I hope you join me in stepping into the true magic of the season not through the things you buy, but through time shared with those you love and the memories you create together. I hoipe you embrace the spirit of Christmas not as a commercial holiday, but as a celebration of life, love, and the gift of being together. In that embrace, let’s make it a time to honor our human condition with joy, for that is the true essence of Christmas.

__________________________________

As part of my ‘self-care’, I am off to coach at Discovery Seminars for five days. It’s an opportunity to be of service and to be embraced in a circle where love shimmers in every shared word, breath and act of kindness. It’s a time to be part of contributing my best to inspire others to find their own light so that together, we can create a world of peace, harmony and joy. And it’s a time for me to be restored, refreshed and revitalized.

I’ll be back Monday.

Until then, Merry Joyful Everything

Morning Pages: The Journey of Self-Recovery

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In March 2007, I embarked on a journey as a blogger, committing to daily writing, seven days a week. This discipline persisted for about five years until life’s complexities – work, responsibilities, and the inevitable “busyness” – prompted me to reassess. Gradually, my posts became less frequent, transitioning from a Monday-to-Friday routine to a more sporadic ‘when inspiration strikes’ schedule.

However, in recently having retired from the workplace, I’ve realized the importance of consistency and discipline, not just in writing but in life. Since stepping away from formal employment, I’ve missed the structure of having to turn up, pay attention and be accountable, not just to myself but to others. For me, ‘a job’ fosters focus and self-discipline in my life. This realization was driven home during my recent solo writer’s retreat in Ireland, where I successfully reintroduced a structured routine into my life. Since returning, I have not touched the project I began on that retreat. It’s become clear: it’s time to embrace this structure once again.

Now, in my defence, amidst the horrific natural and man-made devastation, violence and wars unfolding around the globe, my sister’s health struggles have been a profound emotional journey. She remains in ICU, still in a deep sleep following major surgery over a week ago. My daily visits, standing by her bedside, sharing messages of love and support, have been emotionally draining. This exhaustion has clouded my thoughts, dampening my drive and creativity.

I’ve come to accept that I cannot alter my sister’s path. My role is to hold space for the best for her while continuing to live and create meaningfully in my own life. In this period of emotional turmoil, I confess to succumbing to self-pity. This isn’t self-reproach but a candid acknowledgment, a form of ‘tough loving-kindness’ to break free from the despair and worry engulfing me.

Which is why, in the darkness of an unseasonably warm November morning, I have chosen to mark this day as my turning point. It is time to reconnect to the practices I know create better in my world.

To begin, this morning I revisited a long-abandoned practice: my morning pages, inspired by “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron. This practice of free-hand writing three pages daily was once a cornerstone of my creativity, which I had set aside when I began blogging. Today, as part of my recovery process to embrace peace, calm, balance and love in my daily living, I recommit to this and other nurturing practices.

What about you? What practices have you abandoned that once lifted and supported you? Where in your life is there a need to reconnect and recommit to self-care and activities that bring you joy and strength?

What if we embark on this journey of rediscovery and renewal together?

I’d love to hear your thoughts and ideas in the comments section below. Your words inspire me and open gateways for us to create better in the world, together.

Namaste

Thoughts By A Mountain Pond

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Does this work? I write the question at the top of my empty journal page. The answer follows effortlessly – It all works. Sitting on a bench beside the tranquil waters of a pond. Mountains reflected on their surface. A duck floating along the water. Sounds of the mountain town of Canmore all around. Life is full of wonder and awe.

High above, a periwinkle blue sky dotted with cotton candy clouds stretches out like a dreamy watercolour landscape, white clouds blending seamlessly into sky, mountains soaring tall and proud, their peaks piercing the sky like spears of stone.

In the midst of this tranquil moment, my thoughts drift through my mind like the clouds floating by above me. I am witness to the beauty of this earth and still, thoughts of the impact of our human actions on earth’s delicate ecosystem darken the edges. In standing so tall and proud, have the jagged peaks of these mountains inadvertently contributed to the holes in the ozone layer, I wonder? Does Mother Nature mourn the damage we humans inflict upon her intricate tapestry of life on earth, day after day? Or, like her mountain guardians, does she steadfastly weave a blanket of healing in her endless quest to stitch earth back together, despite our efforts to keep taking her creations undone?

My pen stills upon the journal page. I stop and take a breath, inhaling all the beauty that surrounds me. The warm mountain air against my skin. The gentle breeze caressing my hair. The still waters of the pond and the solid earth beneath my feet.

Breathing out, I whisper a silent prayer of gratitude for this present moment. This quiet interlude in a day that will witness the binding together of two people in Love. A day that holds promise, possibility and the potential for so much joy, laughter, happiness and wedded bliss.

Moments like these are meant to be lived through with an open heart, an open mind, and a sense of openness to the world around us.

I inhale once more, an overwhelming sense of joy embraces my entire being. Exhale. The world seems to breathe in harmony with my presence.

In that fleeting moment, peace envelopes me, assuring me that all is well with my soul.

I breathe in again, the moment passes like the river flowing into the pound. In. Out. Continuing on.

And stil, the moment lingers, A gentle reminder of the beauty and wonder that coexist with the dark and threatening in this world.

I cannot change the darkness in this world, but I can be a beacon of hope in its midst.

I can choose to share kindness, spread joy, love and compassion wherever I go.

And who knows? Perhaps my light will inspire others to shine their own until, together, our light shines so bright, the darkness recedes and the world is illuminated in the human magnificence of our lights shining bright.

Yes. Sitting here by a pond on a beautiful June morning, the possibility of that light feels as real as the mountains standing guard over Mother Nature’s exquisite beauty.

And in this ehemeral moment, I imagine that all of humankind stops, takes a breath and reflects on the beauty and awe in this world. And in that collective thought, our light grows so brilliant, we transform darkness into light.

And so it is.

P.S. – I wrote this post in my journal yesterday morning on my walk along the river and then through Canmore.

The wedding was later in the day. 16 people gathered together to witness the vows of two souls joining as one.

It was, a beautiful day.

___________________________

Scenes from yesterday:

STILL – A MORNING SONG

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Morning’s song awakens me. Outside my bedroom windows, birds chirp a happy song into the silence of dawn’s awakening, as if in welcoming back the light, they are singing praises to earth’s indefatigable journey around the sun.

It is early. Night still lingers and I lay still. Cocooned in my bed, the gentle breathing of my beloved quietly measuring the moments of awakening with their steady thrum.

Quietly, I slip from between the covers, pad barefoot into the kitchen, turn on the light above the stove, the halo of its soft glow casting back the shadows from where I begin my morning ritual of making coffee.

The world feels quiet outside the safe enclosure of our home. I have not yet read the news, not yet caught up on the happenings, out there, somewhere beyond the security of these four walls.

I cling to the silence. Wrap myself in the stillness and savour these last few moments of serene calm.

The world can wait.

For now, morning light beckons me to sink into contemplation. To slowly release night’s lingering shadows into dawn’s early light.

I breathe.

Deep.

Still, I wait.

Still, I let the world’s woes recede as I sit embraced within dawn’s soft silent light.

Dawn's Unfurling
©2023 Louise Gallagher

Still
morning waits
cerulean sky
stretched out
reaching for the light
above leafy branches
waiting
still
for the sun’s
welcome kiss
to caress green fronds
still
waiting
to unfurl
beyond where I sit

waiting
still
in dawn’s early light
awakening
birdsong
chases away
night’s lingering shadows
pressing back against
dawn's approach.

still
waiting
I sit
in silent communion
wrapped within 
dawn’s early light
unfurling
across a cerulean sky.

How to Drain the Brain and Unclog Your Life

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I love to start my morning with a bath. It’s as if the physical act of pouring it, testing the temperature of the water to get it just right, and then, sinking into its warm, sudsy depths unlocks my thinking, and my day.

Yet, here’s the thing, after a half hour of soaking my body in its sudsy warmth, the water begins to cool. I have to make a choice. I either have to add more heat and keep soaking, or get out and start my day, letting the now not so welcoming waters drain away.

Some mornings are made for soaking. Others are made to get up and dance.

Whatever my choice, leaving the water to stagnate in the tub is not an option. I have to let it drain away.

What if, our brains are like a bathtub? We fill them and fill them with the flotsam and riff-raff of life, soak ourselves in every thought that arises and then, instead of letting the not so ‘clean’ thoughts drain away, we just keep adding more and more negativity. In all that darkness, we become lost in the murky depths of the stagnant waters of our thinking?

What if, to live with more balance and joy in the beauty of now, we need to pull the plug on our thoughts, grab a plunger and start draining the brain?

Just as in writing, where it’s essential to drain the story of excess words and unnecessary details, in our life journey, it’s crucial to divest ourselves of all the mental clutter that weighs us down. Negative thinking, limiting beliefs, and doubts can seep into every aspect of our lives, from our relationships and career to our physical and mental health.

Draining the brain isn’t about suppressing or denying these thoughts and emotions. Instead, it’s about acknowledging them, examining them, and then letting them go. It’s like giving your brain a deep tissue massage, kneading out the knots and tension until it feels lighter, clearer, and more relaxed.

And, bonus! As we drain the brain of negativity, doubts, and limiting beliefs, a beautiful transformation takes place within. We become more receptive to the wonders of life, better equipped to handle challenges, and open to embracing the joys and sorrows that shape our journey. With our minds running clear, we’re free to dance through life’s melodies, finding solace in the ebb and flow of the exquisite nature of our human existence.

How to drain drain your brain

1.	Identify the negative thoughts and beliefs that are holding you back. Write them down and examine them objectively. Are they based on facts or assumptions? Are they helping or hindering you?

2.	Challenge your negative thoughts and beliefs. Ask yourself: "Is this really true?" "What evidence do I have to support this?" "What would happen if I let go of this belief?"

3.	Practice mindfulness and meditation. Take a few minutes each day to sit quietly, focus on your breath, and observe your thoughts without judgment. This can help you become more aware of your negative thinking patterns so that you can practice releasing them.

4.	Surround yourself with positive influences. Fill your balcony with friends, family members, and mentors who uplift and inspire you. Read books, listen to podcasts, and watch videos that promote positivity and personal growth.

5.	Finally, be patient and persistent. Draining the brain is a process that takes time and effort. Don't get discouraged if you don't see results right away. Keep practicing, and eventually, you'll start to feel the weight lifting off your shoulders.

Remember, draining the brain isn't a one-time event. Just like a drain, our minds can become clogged again if we're not careful. But with practice and awareness, we can learn to keep our brains clear and our lives more balanced in the beautiful flow of our lives unfolding in wonder and awe, day by day.

So grab that plunger and get to work! Your brain (and your life) will thank you.

Beyond the Rubble

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I am working with a dear friend on writing her memoir.

As a child, she and her family lost their home and survived the bombing of Warsaw which began September 1, 1939. They fled to a family estate on Poland’s eastern border only to be deported to the Gulag when Russia annexed that part of Poland in 1940.

Her journey to Canada is remarkable. As is she.

It is because of her inspiration, I paint today. Along with her husband, they were integral to my story of surviving an abusive relationship. They have always stood with me, giving me love, friendship and an extended family to belong to.

We have been friends a long time and working on this memoir with her is a journey through history, the horrors of those war years and the aftermath, and so much more. There’s a love story, poetry written between two hearts separated by thousands of miles. There’s the tumultous years of raising a family. Standing with her husband as he climbed the ladder of success he promised to build to provide for his family. And there is joy. In particular for me, the joy of our friendship.

This morning, as I do every morning, I pulled a card from my DeepTalk deck. “What was missing from your childhood?”

The trite answer could be so many things. A feeling of safety. Of being unconditionally loved. Of feeling wanted…

Yet, if I step back from pulling out the response from the pocket of my ‘victim story’ I keep stored in my memory that I have been known to haul out to soothe the edges of life’s inevitable sticky moments, I see a bigger picture. A more wholistic view of my childhood that transforms me from ‘victim’ to a powerful architect of my life today.

I am who I am today not despite my childhood and all the perceived wrongs and shortcomings of my parents. I am who I am today because of my childhood. Because of everything that happened throughout my life that made me, me.

I like me. Heck. I LOVE me!

I am the most fascinating person I know, if only because I know myself, inside out, better than I know anyone else. Better than anyone else can know me.

And that’s the beauty of writing your life story. (or working with someone else on writing theirs)

It gives you perspective. An opportunity to reflect, assess, and claim the things that happened not as things that broke you, but things that broke you OPEN.

In that openness, you have the choice to build back better.

My friend’s story starts in the first days of WW2 in Warsaw, Poland. She and her mother are baking a cake for her father’s birthday. And then, the bombs start falling. Five days later, when they emerged from the cellar to view the carnage, their home was gone.

Today, my friend lives a beautiful life. Not despite the hardships. Not despite the losses and grief and sorrow.

Her life is beautiful because from that rubble, she chose to find beauty in all things.

It is one of the most remarkable things about my friend. In the over 40 years I have known her, she has always created beauty all around her. A gifted artist, her paintings shimmer with the beauty that is at the heart of who she is. Her home radiates the serenity that lies at the foundation of her nature and her friendships reflect the loving care she puts into creating all things.

What was missing from my childhood?

Nothing. It was exactly what I needed to become who I am today.

I am a brave woman touching hearts, opening minds to set spirits free to dance in a world of Love, joy and harmony.

A world where beauty matters.

This morning, I choose to say, Thank you my friend for reminding me through your story, what is important in mine.

This morning, I choose to give thanks for my childhood. It was filled with all the things I needed to grow up to become more and more me.

Much gratitude

Namaste

I Worry…

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Deep Cove Beauty
I Worry…
©2023 Louise Gallagher

I worry
that humanity will never find an end to war

I worry
this beautiful planet we call home will grow weary of our excesses and excuses.

I worry 
that the sun will grow tired of shining,
the winds die down or rage too strong
the rivers overflow or dry up
the air grow too thick or disappear completely 

I worry
the trees will stop abiding by the seasons
the earth will quit giving life
the wheatfields will grow fallow and the flowers die forever
and the darkness will overcome the light.

I worry
and in all that worry one thing remains constant

I am not powerful enough to stop the guns blazing
the planets spinning
the sun shining or hiding behind grey clouds

I alone am not powerful enough to change the river’s flow
the consistency of air
the nature of trees
the colour of dirt
the bounty of wheatfields
the perpetuation of flowers
the depth of the darkness.

What I am powerful enough to do
Is let go of worrying
and move, confidently and with grace
into everything I can do
to create harmony in my world

I am powerful enough to do everything I can
to preserve
the integrity of this planet
the health of its rivers and fields
its mountains and streams
and always, shine light and love where darkness would prevail.

I am powerful enough to stop worrying 
about the things 
I cannot change
and instead, do my part to change
the thing I know I can
to bring us together to change the world.

I can dare boldly to change
Myself

Unbroken Morning

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Wrapped in the soft glow of candlelight illuminating the dark, I sit in the quiet of night’s velvety embrace.

It’s early. Dawn sleeps deep, bedded down in night’s arms. The dark envelopes the sky.

I sit at my desk, breathing in the silence and watch the lights from the pedestrian bridge that crosses the river outside my window shimmer on the water’s inky black surface.

I am awake. I don’t want to be. But a dream I cannot remember awoke me. Unable to find sleep again, I do the thing I always do when sleep evades me. I get up, light a candle on my desk. It sits in front of the large picture window in our living room, looking west. Looking out into the darkness, to the river, the dark silhouettes of the trees that line its banks, nature’s painting of black on light shadow, waiting, like portals into some magical, far away land calling me to let go of what I know to enter the realm of all there is yet to discover.

My fingertips skim the keyboard on my laptop. The river flows. Olafur Arnald’s piano quietly plays in the background. The fridge hums. Beaumont the Sheepadoodle, lies at my feet, sleeping.

A light moves along the bridge. Someone on a bicycle is crossing. East to west. For a moment I am distracted. Where is he going? What is he doing riding a bike across the bridge at 4am?

His light disappears. I return to this moment.

The river flows. No wind stirs the naked branches of the trees that fill the gaps between tree trunks like cracks in ice spidering out.

Morning has yet to beckon.

Day has yet awaken.

I breathe in the quiet of the moment and feel my body easing into the darkness.

There is nowhere to be in the dark of night. No one thing I have to do. There is only this. This moment where I sit typing, breathing, and watching the river flow and the lights dance on its surface.

Day will come. Light will return to the sky. For now, I sit in the dark belly of night and let my mind flow like the river and dream of dancing with wild, fierce abandon into the unknown adventures of the day yet to rise.

Namaste

The River Runs Loud

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Channeled into an ever-narrowing strip of water, the river runs loud in winter.

Geese huddle on ice islands stretching out from the two bridge buttresses that stand, immovable, in the middle of the river’s flow.

Two squirrels play tag amongst the trees. Unimpeded by leafy greens filling the space between each branch, black puffy tails flicking rapidly, back and forth, back and forth, they chase each other in and out and around tree trunks and branches.

A lone duck floats swiftly past, unseen webbed feet paddling fast.

Cerulean sky stretches from horizon to horizon.

Immersed within the sacred mystery of the world embracing me, I stand in silent wonder to greet the morning light.

In Silent Wonder

Standing at the gateway
great mystery unspent
beckons
time well spent
time frittered away
time wasted
silently drifts
into the shadows
of the past year
spent
of all that was not known
when the bells tolled
their welcoming clarion
to a new year.

Standing at the gateway
great mystery unspent
unfurls
moment
by
moment
leaving all that was spent
in the invisible hands
of time
passing by.

from where I sit

Where words bloom like roses.

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I played in my studio this weekend. It has been a while.

Though summer is often a time of little studio play, this year’s sojourn away from its creative space was especially long.

I kept telling myself I was bored with it all. I just wasn’t interested. I had other things to do.

In reality, and retrospect, I was engaging in a lot of self-denial of engagement with the things that lift me up, balance and challenge me, and give my creative essence the spark it needs to keep flowing freely. And, when my creative essence flows freely, I feel calmer, happier, more spacious, more ‘me’.

I know I am not alone in my self-denial of the things I know are good for me.

Some time ago, I was chatting with a woman at the park as we walked along the river. Her two-year-old rescue, Toby, wanted desperately to play with Beaumont the Sheepadoodle. Beau was only interested in my throwing the ball.

Like me, she loves to write.

“I started a book three years ago,” she shared. “When COVID hit, I thought it would be the opportune time to finish it. I’m still only a quarter of the way through.”

I shared some of my unfinished manuscript stories and we both laughed and promised to check in on one another’s progress at our next park encounter.

Recently, we ran into each other again at the park. We chatted for a while until finally I blurted out, “So… I don’t have much of an update on progress to report.”

Sheepishly, she shared she didn’t either.

We chatted awhile about the obstacles, the why not’s, and the things that got in our way of doing what we say we want to do.

“I desperately want to finish it,” she said of her manuscript. “I just don’t know if I can.”

We looked at each other when she said that and laughed.

It is a shared experience.

See, intellectually I know I can do it but… and there’s always a but… my lack of conviction of the ‘can’ has more to do with the critter-mind’s constant chattering about why I shouldn’t do it.

Now that was a revelation as I sat in meditation this morning.

Why does the critter-mind believe I shouldn’t do it?

The answer is fairly simple.

The critter-mind always believes it knows best, particularly when it comes to keeping me safe. And the critter-mind believes that convincing me not to devote the time, energy and creative power necessary to complete this book is safer than risking failing, or never getting it published, or having it panned by readers, yada, yada, yada.

And so I wonder… What would happen if I simply turn up, pay attention and stay unattached to the outcome?

Will the critter-mind lose its power to convince me not to do it? In staying unattached to the outcome, will the creative act of putting words onto a page become the process through which I experience joy, happiness, fulfillment and love?

I wonder… What would happen if I imagine every word I type to be an act of love? Will words bloom into everything I imagine?