Category Archives: Essential Journey

Love yourself first.

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When you’re angry with yourself, when you feel like you’ve made a mistake and are busy chastising yourself for something you’ve done that didn’t work out the way you planned, what do you do?

Do you get angry and fill your head with negative self-talk about how stupid you are, or ridiculous, or what a loser?

You’re not alone. The world is filled with human beings who have made mistakes. Many of them are filled with anger because of the mistakes they’ve made.

It’s nice to know you’re not alone in your self-misery, but it still doesn’t make it healthy for your well-being.

We all make mistakes. We all fall down. And we all talk to ourselves in ways we’d never talk to another human being.

What if, instead of giving into self-anger and loathing, we all gave into love? What if instead of telling ourselves all about how horrible we are, we chose instead to Love ourselves first?

Think about it. Imagine what would be different in your life if you chose to, Love yourself first.

Yeah. Yeah. I know. You love yourself. Maybe? Well sort of. Except… for that piece of flotsam from the past that doesn’t want to lay quiet and is always poking holes in your peace of mind. Or, that place where you did this or that, and keep telling yourself you can’t forgive yourself for doing this or that.

What if instead of carrying anger and unforgiveness, you chose instead to Love yourself first?

Would that make a difference in your life?

I know it would in mine.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love myself. It has been the journey of my lifetime, getting to this place where I can look in the mirror, look deep into my eyes and say, “I love me. Just the way I am. I am a miracle of life.”

But…. And there’s always that but. When I mess up by doing something that upsets my peace of mind, I tend to fall into my default position, chastising myself with the words that play in my head whenever I slip out of esteem. They are not words of support or understanding. They tend to be the words that remind me why I am ‘unworthy’, a human being of enormous flawed proportions. A big mistake.

In my angry state, I focus on the things that are wrong with me, rather than seeing all that is right.

We all make mistakes. We can all learn from our mistakes because, there is always another way of doing something, of doing anything, different.

It’s the way of the universe. It’s filled with limitless possibilities. Unfortunately, when I leap into my “oh my gosh, I’ve just destroyed everything with what I did” thinking, possibilities for better vanish as my self-criticism falls like rain on a hot summer’s day — it’s a welcome relief from the heat. But man, it sure can turn a backyard party into a pity party.

In choosing to Love myself first I do not have to fear myself, or the angry voices in my head. Instead, I get to see myself through the power of love to transform anger, into love. Hatred into kindness. Self-pity into self-compassion.

And when I transform my inner world, the world around me changes too.

What is essential on your journey?

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What is essential on your journey?

That new pair of shoes? Going to that new, hip restaurant? Finding the perfect chair to match the sofa?

Or, is it the people. The experiences. The things you learn, and forget or choose to leave behind?

What is essential on your journey?

This question arose from my sleep. From that place between dreaming and awakening where images and voices filter through the noise of the day to fill the silence of the night. In its arising, I am left wondering… what is essential on my journey?

It is a different question than “what do I believe in?”.

That one is easy for me to answer. I believe in love. In being kind. Honest. In building community. Connection. In creating space for peace. Joy. Harmony.

I believe in doing my best to create a better world around me, a world filled with harmony, joy, peace, beauty. A world where love is always the answer, even when I want to hate, or be angry, or act out.

Love is always the answer.

Which raises the question, “Is love essential on my journey?”.

Is love even a thing I can carry or is it a non-thing best left undone so it can weave its own magic?

Or is love an action I must do to create the more of it I want in my life? I know my friend Mark at  Musings and other writings will have an answer for that one because he always tells me love is a verb, not a noun.

But is it essential I carry love with me, or, does love carry me?

Is it essential I know the answer, or is it essential I trust in Love to be present, in all kinds of weather?

Lovely questions to explore and to let go of as I step into a day where I know love and caring, kindness and compassion will be present in all ways when I trust in their presence and let go of the nonessentials and focus on what is most important to me:

To touch hearts and open minds and set spirits free to dance in a world of harmony, joy and beauty.

Namaste.

_____________________

I should also add that this post/quote was also inspired by the amazing Joyce Wycoff over at Soul of Art who wrote about implementation of practices she learned through a 21 day course on creative expression and Photoshop.

 

 

 

Aging takes time, and a whole lot of laughter.

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“It could be a stress fracture,” the doctor says. “But it’s most likely arthritis.”

He presses on the swollen and inflamed part on the top of my foot. Not so gently I might add.

I pull my foot away.

“Ouch!” I exclaim, before adding kind of jokingly. Kind of not. “I’m not old enough for it to be arthritis.”

He doesn’t sense my ‘funny’. He looks at me. Looks at the computer monitor where my file is open. I imagine my date of birth flashing at him in big red numbers, a sireen blaring somewhere in his head. Age Alert! Age Alert!

He quickly does the math and says, “Yes you are.”

Thanks. I feel so much better.

He does tell me arthritis can happen no matter how old you are, but risk increases with age. Mostly because the soft tissue between the joints wears down with use.

“But I’m not that old!” I exclaim. I’ve checked the data. Sixty-five is the average age for symptoms. I’m not that old.

He looks at me. At my chart, again and replies. “And you’re not that young.”

Yup. I feel so much better.

I went to the doctor yesterday to have my foot examined. I’ve been struggling with lack of sleep for the past few days. It’s been hurting so much it’s been keeping me awake.

I’ve tried ice, heat, stretching, coddling, moaning and groaning. Just about everything I could think of but mostly, I was trying to ignore it in the hopes it would just go away. Time, that wonderful healer of break-ups and other heart aches was not making it feel any better. I decided to have it looked at.

The doctor gave me a requisition for an x-ray and a prescription for an anti-inflammatory cream.

“I love this stuff!” the pharmacist exclaims as she hands me my filled prescription. “The more you rub it in, the better the absorption. The friction heats it up.” I think she might have winked as she said it. I know she was smiling. Big.

She shows me the contents of the little white jar filled with buttery yellow ointment.

“I like to rub it all over my body,” she tells me. Again with the laughter and wink. She looks at me intently. “You know at our age anything that keeps the joints running smooth is a good idea.”

I pretend to laugh with her and take the container. “Does the funny bone get arthritis?” I ask. “Because I’m not finding this part of the journey all that funny. I’m kind of finding it makes me a bit grouchy.”

“Oh don’t let it do that!” she exclaims. “Laughter really is the best medicine.”

Harrumph.

I hobble away and leave the drugstore, climb into my car and drive home.

Beaumont greets me at the door, his entire body quivering with the joy of having someone come home.

Take me to the park! Take me to the park! he says (or so I imagine he’s saying) pushing his body up against me, tapping his head against my hands, insisting I pet him as I try to get through the door.

I’m feeling kind of sorry for myself and mostly try to ignore him.

I lay down on the bed. Rub the ointment into my foot and the excess into my hands, just the way the pharmacist told me to do.

Beaumont jumps up and lays on top of me, placing his head on my shoulder, looking at me with pleading eyes.

Okay. Okay, I tell him. We’ll go.

He leaps off the bed in one giant bound. I envy his youthful joints and energy.

I find a pair of shoes that don’t press against the sore point on  my foot and we drive off to the park.

Outside in the fresh air, throwing the ball for Beau, feeling the softness of the summer evening’s breeze against my face I finally accept the truth of the pharmacist’s advice.

Laughter truly is the best medicine.

I can’t change my age, but I sure can change my attitude.

I laugh at myself, shake off my self-pity and cast it to the wind.

I throw the ball again for Beau and laugh out loud as he races in circles trying to catch it as it bounces on the grass.

Aging, I decide, is a journey best taken with a good dose of humour.

_____________________

Photo by Alex Harvey on Unsplash

 

Living is the Journey

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When I was little I used to yearn to be ‘all grown up’. Somehow, that place of being grown up seemed better than the process of the journey to it.

I’m still growing up.

Still learning.

Still gaining understanding, insight, knowledge and a deep appreciation for every step of the journey.

Being ‘all grown up’ is not the journey.

Living is.

Just for today, let go of looking at some other place you’d rather be and settle into the space you’re in right now.

Breathe deeply of this moment right now and treasure each breath, step, sight. Savour each passing moment and fill it with gratitude, harmony and delight.

Namaste.

In Liberty’s Gaze.

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You can protect your liberties in this world only by protecting the other man’s freedom.
You can be free only if I am free. — Clarence Darrow

She didn’t know her own strength. She’d never been tested. Never been put up against man’s nature to tear things down.

No one knew what would happen when the winds of adversity blew. When the gales howled. When the hurricanes ripped through the foundations of her truth that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.. Give me your tired, your poor…

No one knew the measure of her strength under pressure of another’s assertions he knew best, that his truth was the righteous belief of mankind’s salvation. No one knew.

And, when the winds came, as they often do, they howled and careened around her body, pummeling her righteous stance, her insistance that she not be swayed. Her belief that she must hold fast. Be strong.

The winds screamed like a thousand banshees roaring through desert sands, a storm of idealogies cast upon the winds, swirling around her, rising up into a hailstorm of dissent, rising up with hatred and condemnation, fear and loathing. A typhoon of evolutionary calamity in the making of war that would never know peace until quietened in an oasis of calm at the sheer strength of her steadfast gaze through time. …Give me… Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore…

The winds roared and she stood strong and true as she stands strong and true today. True to the foundation upon which she was built, a symbol of friendship, freedom and peace, this lady of liberty. This lady with the strength to hold fast the belief of nations and the dream of all mankind. Liberty for all. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me…

Hers is the strength of a dream woven into the fabric of their collective nationhood aspiring for equality, justice, freedom, and the pursuit of happiness for all mankind. A nation of people who stand true in their belief in the rightness of all men to worship from their own separate pew. The strength of a nation that stands true to the right of all men, women and children, where ever on earth they may stand to rise up and be heard, be seen and be free. I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

The above is the inscription inside the base of the Statues of Liberty in New York harbour, Swan Ally Island in the Seine River in Paris and Paris’ Luxembourg Gardens. The lines are found in a sonnet by Emma Lazarus, The New Colossus written in 1883.

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles.
From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Emma Lazarus, 1883

I have reposted this from my Recover Your Joy blog I posted it in in 2010 in honour of our American neighbour’s July 4th Independence Day celebrations.

Happy July 4th my friends!

PS — I wrote these words long before the current times. And still they ring true for me. Having since written a piece on the African term, Ubuntu — I can see the connection in all things — We are all connected. Ubuntu from the Bantu language, represents the philosophy that — “I am what I am because of who we all are.”

May we all be free together. May we all know our magnificence together. May we all be together as one human race celebrating our humanity.

Let it begin with me.

All my relations

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In South Africa it is called Ubuntu.

Here, where the fierce prairie winds are not strong enough to blow away the memories of colonization and the residential schools that did their best to rip cultural identity out of the child with such force the scars still seep from the trauma today, it is called, “All My Relations.”  That place where who I am is because you are who you are and what happens to me impacts the we of who we are together.

Yesterday, I attended a ‘Listening Session” on off-reserve indigenous affordable housing. There were five of us at the round table where I sat. Three of us were non-Indigenous.

One of the questions asked for feedback on how to increase length of stay in housing for Indigenous people after being housed in an urban setting.

“Stop making us feel unwanted everywhere we go, where ever we live” said one man who came from a reserve many years ago and now leads an agency which provides housing for Indigenous and non-Indigenous people exiting homelessness. “Stop discrimination.”

A tall order. Stop discrimination.

Yet, when I see it through its simplest frame, it appears so sensible. So obvious. Stop discriminating against the things we do not understand, the people we do not know, the history we do not want to think about. Stop seeing the world as ‘us and them’ and see it as, “All My Relations.”

One of the other individuals at our table whose PhD made him the most highly educated amongst, us shared the story of how, as a teenager, holding his first pay cheque in hand, he went to the grocery store to cash it.

“I didn’t have a bank account and my mom always cashed her cheques there,” he shared.

When he asked if he could cash it the manager said, without glancing at the cheque but staring only at his brown face. “You’ve got a welfare cheque already?”

All My Relations.

We are not separate. We are the same kind of different. The same human condition appearing in all its manifestations.

On this day in a week focused on celebration of National Aboriginal Day, I check to see where my privilege has landed me and find myself once again in that space of humility.

No one has ever refused to rent to me because of the colour of my skin.

I have never been denied service in a restaurant because I represent an entire nation of people whose culture, history, ceremonies and language were destroyed by the privilege I carry.

No one has ever called me names as I walked down the street that are meant to malign my culture, my past, my people.

And no one has ever spit on me, kicked me or beat me up because I am ‘a dirty Indian’.

Yet it has happened to thousands of my neighbours. To the people who called this land home long before the white man came and planted their roots and claimed this land as their own.

And it keeps happening.

I don’t discriminate against those who are ‘different’ than me but when I do not speak up, when I do not stand with those who have been beaten down because they are Indigenous, I am perpetuating the trauma through my silence and lack of action.

I saw my privilege laid out before me on a round table yesterday.

It is not a pretty thing to see when cast in the light of the trauma and pain its presence causes others.

It is of no benefit to me or the world around me if I do not use it to create better for those for whom the privilege of being treated with dignity, respect, honour is denied because, even though their connection to this land is deeper than mine, the colour of their skin and the vibrancy of their culture, once made them ‘savages’.

Long before the white man came, this land was filled with hope and promise. It was filled with rich and vibrant culture, with ceremony and peace pipes and drums beating.

We cannot turn back time, but we can turn the page to find ourselves writing a different story of how we treat one another. How we build tolerance, compassion, understanding, truth and dignity into our world. We can write a new story where we acknowledge, All My Relations is made of each of us doing better, every day, to build a Canada that is good for everyone.

Namaste.

Aging with grace

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Have you ever been faced with an opportunity and upon what you thought to be sober second thought, said “No” when you could have said, “YES!”

Life is filled with such passages. Those moments where if I’d had the courage, if I’d taken the chance, I might have done ‘a’ instead of ‘b’ and who knows where I’d be today. I can’t change the past, but I can heal the spaces where those decisions continue to present me with opportunities to let go of the fear, or perhaps insecurities, or maybe confusion that held me back from living my life bravely.

According to Thomas Moore, whose soul-centered philosophy speak deeply to me, some of those passages need to be healed, or we stay stuck. In our stuckedness, the unhealed passage leaves us acting out in immature, unconscious ways that limit the grace with which we pass through each day and ultimately, prevent us from knowing grace in aging.

“Passages are not always easy. You may decide it is too much for you and settle for being stuck in a comfortable phase.” — Thomas Moore, Ageless Soul

Moore suggests we look back on our lives and see various passages as linked by plateaus which represent the stages of our lives. Not necessarily the ‘aged’ stages, but rather, the significant events which make up our growing. School. Marriage. Travel. Jobs. Adventures…

Sometimes, we don’t navigate the passages between plateaus well. Sometimes, in our inability to let go of one plateau to pass through to another, we refuse to say yes to possibility and hold onto, or stay stuck in, what was and can never be again.

There are many ways to heal those broken passages.

The first step is to draw a timeline of your life, mark the significant events and then, mark those opportunities on it that you didn’t take, those moments where you said No when you could have said Yes but something held you back.

Look for patterns, for spaces where your reason for No carried over into other areas of your life, even when you wanted to say Yes.

Now, hold those moments lovingly in your mind, and let compassion, love, acceptance pour over them. Let your heart open wide to the realization that in those instances you chose No, not because you couldn’t do it, but rather, because doing it was too risky, scary, fear-inducing, or you just felt more comfortable staying stuck.

And then, say, “I see you. I forgive you. I let go. I am peaceful with my decision today.”

Repeat often.

 

 

The best laid plans…

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I had a great plan.

  1. Get back into the studio in the evenings. (I haven’t been in the studio throwing paint for a few weeks now. Busy-ness. New Job. Several events. Summer-like evenings and all that jazz kept getting in my way.)
  2. Wake up earlier (5am) to be able to meditate half an hour every morning followed by half an hour of yoga.
  3. Go to bed earlier. Lights out by 10:30.
  4. Check my diet. Ensure it is laden with nutrients and healthy foods.
  5. Walk an hour a day.

 

And, like many best laid plans, life got in the way.

Well, a cold actually.

I have managed to fulfill on Step 3 — Go to bed earlier. Sleep is about all that has been calling to me this past week and weekend. Sleep and more sleep. In fact, Saturday, which was a perfect summer day in the studio because of the rain, I did not get out of bed all day.

That’s the thing about ‘plans’.

You gotta be flexible. Adaptable. Kind.

Flexible enough to adapt your plan to unforeseen circumstances. A cold was not on my agenda, but, working back at a frontline homeless-serving agency it is in some ways inevitable. New venue. New germs. And as this is a child and family centered agency, there are always lots of germs floating around.

Years ago, when I started working at an adult shelter, even though I’m not frontline staff, I got a cold every month for a year. After that, my immune system had strengthened itself enough, I didn’t get another cold for the next five years I worked there.

 

I figure this may be part of my modus operendi. Condition my immune system with variable germs until its strong enough to defend itself.

At least, that’s the plan.

But then, you know what happens to the best laid plans…

We either adapt to present conditions or the plan falls apart.

In the case of a plan that doesn’t follow my script, there’s only one thing I can do, be kind to myself by treating myself with tender loving care, and when conditions improve, give myself the grace to …

Begin again.

 

 

Always begin again.

I am on the mend. The bloom is off my cold as its love affair with my immune system wanes. There are clear nasal passages and fewer coughs on the horizon.

All is good. My plan for now is to treat myself with tender loving care, allowing myself the grace to not appear anywhere at 5am except my bed. And if getting up whenever I get up does not allow enough time to appear here on the page, I’m okay with that too. It’s all in the plan.

Namaste.

 

Can education end poverty, homelessness and discrimination?

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I am at a dinner party. The people around the table are all successful by society’s norms. They have achieved status, good jobs, make contributions to their organizations, families, communities, society.

One of the guests states they know how to resolve the problem for Canada’s Indigenous people. “Give them goals,” they say with conviction, “and hold them to the outcomes.”

The other guests murmur in agreement. Yes. Yes. It’s what’s needed. They need to stop whining and start doing more to be productive members of society. Sure, we messed up, someone mentions, we treated them unfairly, but that’s in the past. It’s time to move on.

I chime in and ask if anyone around the table has read the Truth and Reconciliation Report. There’s a lot of head shaking, No.

So, we can sit here with answers when no one has read a report that provides clear directions on how to move forward in addressing the inequities and injustices that have created the trauma and crisis today.

Good point, someone says. But they still need to be held accountable to goals. They need to progress.

And who are we to say what that looks like I ask, when we don’t understand the people, culture, history and our role in creating the issues today?

I ask one man, the CEO of a large multi-national corporation how he would respond if a consultant, hired to help fix a problem in the organization, walked in and said, I know the answers. Here’s what you have to do. Yet, the consultant had not even looked at the organization’s balance sheet, annual report, strategic plan or interviewed leadership, etc.

The man laughed and replied, “I’d throw him out.”

Yet, it’s okay to act like that consultant about a situation you have not spent any time understanding.

There was a long silence and the conversation changed to another topic.

 

Yesterday, a reader commented on my post that education is vital. “… the answer is education. It lifts people, it lifts families, it lifts communities. And, while it is lifting people out of chronic cyclical poverty and its attendant problems, it lifts spirit, self-esteem/pride and empowers more accomplishment.”

I agree.

But it’s not just those experiencing homelessness, or poverty, or other social injustices who need education. It is all of us.

Recently, a man told me of his experience looking for a place to live. He arranged for a viewing of an apartment and when he got there, it was mysteriously, suddenly, unavailable.

You can’t tell the colour of my skin on the phone, he told me. But I could see his [the landlord’s] revulsion by the look on his face when he opened the door.

The man is Blackfoot.

It happens all the time, he told me. Sometimes, people don’t even bother to pretend. They just say, “I don’t rent to Indians.”

It doesn’t just happen to indigenous people, but to immigrants too.

Someone sees the colour of their skin, and doors close in their face.

Education is needed.

For everyone.

Discrimination hurts all of us. It fosters resentment, disillusionment, despair; entitlement, injustice, disrespect.

It creates Us and Them communities where the ‘have’s’ deny the ‘have not’s’ access to the resources and supports they need to be able to live without feeling the burden of poverty pressing them down.

It is not up to those who are being discriminated against to prove to the rest of us that they are equal, worthy or deserving. It’s up to each of us to let go of our thinking that someone else is not equal, worthy or deserving of our consideration, fair treatment, justice, dignity.

When we tear down the barriers we have erected to keep ‘them’ out of where we live, work, play and create communities, we create a world where tolerance, understanding, justice, and consideration for all has room to flow in all directions.

And that requires a willingness to learn — about the impact of our thinking we have all the answers for those we judge to be less than, other than, outside of our human experience.

We need to educate ourselves on the injustices we create because of our privileged thinking and belief that ‘they’ are the one’s who need to educate themselves to do better.

We are a planet of diverse cultures, faith, traditions, ways of being on this earth.

What we share in common is our human condition. And that is all we need to be equal to one another.

The rest… it comes with educating ourselves about the beauty in our differences, and learning to become compassionate in our view of how those differences make us each unique and richer in the experience of sharing our world in ways that create better, not just for the few, but for everyone.

Namaste.

 

New Moon Rising

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Photo credit: Nousnou Iwasaki
Source: https://unsplash.com

The other day, in a conversation with a friend, we spoke about what it takes for families to break the cycle of poverty that has in many cases, surrounded their lives since the beginning of their lives.

“When all you know is hardship, it’s hard to trust there’s anything else in the world but a rough ride,” my friend said.

Trust.

Trust doesn’t come easy when the world around you has appeared untrustworthy, filled with angst and turmoil. When you feel like you’re constantly living on the dark side, it’s hard to trust that when something good appears on your path, it will hang around for awhile to create more goodness.

When you’ve seldom, or possibly never, felt the lightness of being free, safe, protected, cared for, visible or seen for the beautiful soul you truly are, it’s not so easy to believe tomorrow will be a brighter day

When I began creating the #ShePersisted series I continue to work on, it began with the thought of creating one painting to speak out against the silencing of Senator Elizabeth Warren and to say to women everywhere, we are not helpless.

Feeling helpless is a common response to ‘bad things happening’ in our lives.

The feelings of being helpless are compounded when we feel  like bad things always happen.

Woman or man, we have all experienced moments of feeling helpless. Moments when it felt like no matter what we did, nothing ever changed, nothing could ever come out right, nothing good ever happens.

Yet, in this world of turmoil, angst and inexplicable violence that takes the lives of children, women and men every day, good things are happening. It’s just sometimes, we lose sight of the goodness amidst the feeling of being helpless to change, or stop or prevent the bad.

Today is a new moon.

New moon’s bring the promise of possibility, hope, change, transformation.

Living in a city, surrounded by concrete and asphalt, it can be hard to remember at times the gifts of nature all around us. It can be hard to feel the ebb and flow and beauty of life all around us.

Today, under this new moon, take a moment to breathe deeply and remind yourself,

possibility exists everywhere and in everyone.
miracles do not discriminate. They are constantly flowing all around us.
hope rises always, and
when we trust in the inherent goodness of humankind,
when we believe in the power and Oneness of Love,
we are not helpless
we are powerful beyond our wildest imaginings.

Namaste.