I am off to coach at Choices today. Off for five days of being immersed in the wonder and awe of our human condition. Of watching spirits lighten, hearts break open and eyes shine bright in the truth of their magnificence reflected in the eyes of everyone around them.

I am grateful.

Not only do I get to be part of the miracles unfolding on every breath, at Choices, I get to be myself and see myself. I get to ‘in to me see’.

In the safe and lovingly supportive environment of the Choices room, I am free to examine my own self-defeating games, my own tapes, my own mis-steps, missed directions, missed opportunities to shine without fearing that I will be judged or condemned for my human condition.

And in every ‘in to me see’ look I take, I get to say as composer and inspirational human being, Benjamin Zander promotes, “Wow. Aren’t I fascinating!” I get to throw up my hands and laugh at myself and see how absolutely fascinating it is that I can; do that, or believe that, or feel that or think… now is forever, or, I’m not enough, or, I’m so hopeless, or I am the victim or any other critter thought that creeps in when I am feeling overwhelmed, underappreciated, under valued or just plain old stressed out!

I have been feeling stressed out lately. Feeling like my plate is so full I might need to throw it in the air and let it fall where ever it will and in its falling, run away and hide until all the pieces settle.

Yup. Definitely fascinating.

Which is why I am grateful.

In the Choices room, I remember my inherently magnificent human condition. The one I’m born with. The one we all share.

And in my remembering, I let go of my fear, I will never be enough, do enough, have enough. I let go of my fear of being me, in all my wild and wacky, inexplicably fascinating human condition.

In my letting go of fear, I remember, I am magnificent! Just like you.

See you next week — in the interim, if you haven’t watched Benjamin Zander’s inspiring Ted Talk… here it is…

Aligned with peace in thought and word and deed, I align with my true self. Placing faith in my true self, I radiate peace.

My awakening thoughts reflect the disquiet of my mind. “I wonder if there will be a new atrocity to learn about this morning?” leaps into my thinking as I awaken.

I fear.

I fear for the world’s condition. For humanity’s sake. For the safety and well-being of all I love.

I fear unseen, unknown faces stalking the night. I fear unseen, unknown hands plotting, somewhere in the world,  discord, pain, grief, terror.

I fear.

I must choose love over fear.

I must not allow fear to dictate my actions. I must not let fear consume my being present in this world of wonder and awe.

I breathe. Deeply. And acknowledge what is true.

Fear is present.

So is love. So is joy. So is possibility. So is community. So is hope. So is peace.

Fear is present. I embrace my fear with loving kindness. I embrace it with compassion. Hope. Belief in all humanity. Belief in the goodness of all humankind.

I embrace my fear and set myself free of its dark tentacles seeking tenure in my thoughts.

I breathe love into my fear and dispel the clouds of its desire to unsettle my belief in all I am capable of, all I am when I let go of fear and choose love.

I cannot find peace by staying at the level of my discord. I must seek peace at the level of the solution.

I choose Love over fear. Always.

And in that choice I find myself breathing deeply into my belief that when align through peace within me and have faith in my true self, I am the peace I want to create in the world around me.

Aligned with my true self,  peace finds its way through Love.

And so it is.

“The most divisive belief is ‘us versus them’. The most uniting belief is that humanity is one family.” Deepk Chopra

I do not have the words. I put my fingers to keyboard searching for understanding and the words evaporate. I sit in meditation and my mind will not rest. It leaps from thought to thought scurrying about in search of answers it cannot find in my restless, agitated state of being. I want to write about the sadness I feel. I want to write about my  sorrow that yet again, violence is the path we humans take to destroy our humanity.

And I am at a loss.

I read the news reports. I read the comments. I read the words we use to describe those who committed these acts and I fear once again we will never find the path to unity, to being a planet existing in harmony and peace.

We look across the ocean and see the turmoil and grieve the losses and state we must unite and fight the terror, we must kill the terrorists and my heart grows heavy.

We are one humanity. One planet. One humankind.

It is not them who have perpetrated these acts. It is all of us.

It is not them we are vowing to kill. It is all of us.

According to  Mass Shooting Tracker, in the US there have been 325 mass shootings in 2015 resulting in 304 deaths. In 2014, 337 mass shootings killing 383 people.

What is happening is wrong. What is happening is terrifying. What is happening is deadly.

The perpetrators are still human. They are still us. They are not subhumans. Animals. Cretins. Or whatever words we spew out to quell the anger burning from within. They are us and in our refusal to see that we are them, that we share this human condition, no matter how massively distorted we see it to be, we are contributing to the divisiveness that is killing our humanity.

We have been contributing to this divisiveness for centuries.

In one article, a man from the Southern US talked about the Klu Klux Klan and the terror they invoked throughout the South. Where was the outrage of the country then, asked the person being interviewed.

When I was in my early teens and we lived in France, ‘the Algerian crisis’ was in full swing. In the woods, behind the apartment building we lived in, there were ruins of Roman aquaducts. ‘The Algerians’ lived in the ruins. We were cautioned not to go there alone. They might rise up out of the ruins and harm us. In a section of the city there were tenements that housed, ‘the Algerians’. They were French citizens but they were considered second class, ‘the other’, undeserving of common decencies extended to the rest of society.

Where was the outrage then?

There is no us and them in humanity. There is only us. All of us. One planet. One humankind. One human family. What we do to one, we do to all.

I cannot stop the flow of hatred. I cannot stop the boiling over of anger.

I can stop them coming from me. I can stop them being my contribution.

And so this becomes my prayer today.

Let me not contribute anger to what has happened. Let me not contribute hatred.

Let me only contribute my humanity for it is in our humanity that we are most similar. It is in our blood that we flow the same.

“There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.” – William Shakespeare

When I was growing up, my mother had many superstitions.

Do not put shoes on a bed or counter.

Do not cross arms when toasting with glasses.

Do not cross the path of a black cat.

A devout Catholic, around our house were many icons to remind her of her faith and to ward off the bad luck she believed lurked around corners eager to pounce on the unsuspecting and unaware. There were candles to light beside a statue of the Virgin Mary  and a large crucifix above the mantle to kneel in front of and pray the Rosary.

Along with the symbols of her Catholic faith there were also many symbols of her heritage and the environment in which she grew up — southern India. Scattered amidst the icons of her faith, there were statues of  Shiva. There were bronze Buddha’s and only elephants with their trunks lifted.

In my mother’s world, Friday the 13th was a day to be dreaded. It was a day for mishaps and missteps. A day to be hyper-conscious of the world around you looking to trip you up or deliver some ill-timed blow of misfortune.

I used to laugh at my mother’s superstitions. I used to judge her on the contradictions I saw between belief in God and fear of evil spirits. I would tease her and try to scare her into saying a quick Hail Mary to ward off some evil miscreant awoken by my lack of respect for the spirit world.

Time has smoothed the ridges of my disdain. Time has given me a better perspective of the compassionate view of my mother’s beliefs and superstitions.

At Thanksgiving dinner this year, my mother spoke of Faith. She spoke of her deep and abiding belief in the goodness of God, the power of His creation and the holiness and sanctity of life.

No matter our teasing, no matter my scoffing at her repeated insistence she will ‘pray for me’, my mother’s faith has been the backbone and the lifeline that has tied our family together in good times and in bad.

My mother never saw the contradictions. For her, the miracle of life resonates in all beings, and just as God is ever present, she has always known the capacity for evil is also present.

Taking care of the small things, praying to protect herself, her family and the world around her against evil are to her, as natural as saying the Hail Mary in times of stress and in times of contemplation.

In my mother’s world, the superstitions woven into the fabric of her life are simply threads of colour that highlight the natural grace and beauty at the heart of who she is, a kind, compassionate and caring woman of faith.

I like this post so much this morning, I am sharing it here today.

Beaumont at the park

Beaumont’s happy place is at the park, off leash, running free to play with all his friends.

Puppies recognize puppies. They have an innate ability to detect a dog of similar age, regardless of size, and intuitively fall into a play pattern that accommodates any discrepancy in girth and stature to allow for a joyful game of wrestle, chase and roll.

Watching puppies play is fun. Watching their owners watching their puppies at play is even more fun!

We stand in groups of two or three, watching our canines roll and rumble, talking about their strengths, their idiosyncrasies and the sometimes not so great things they do. We commiserate, share tips and the not so great advice we’ve received on how to avoid household messes, chewed up slippers and other losses of puppydom.

And all the while, our pups are oblivious to us watching them. They are 100% immersed in the joy of play as we stand watching and laughing and commenting on how we wish the world could operate like dogs at a park. Fluid. Fun. Friendly.

Dogs meet. Sniff. Play a little. Move on. Meet. Sniff. Play a little. Move on. They check out a smell here, a butt there without too much concern for whose butt is whose. They don’t really care what their humans think. They are totally consumed with being present in the now, experiencing everything that is going on, soaking up every ounce of joy in the moment.

Watching Beaumont play with his friends has taught me many things about rules for being a dog — and a human. First and foremost,

Some other rules for being a dog:

1. It’s the play in the dog that makes the difference, not the size. Don’t say no to a play invitation just because you think you’re too big, or small. Adjust your play-pattern to accommodate discrepancies in size and let the smaller one lead the way.
2. Don’t let age weigh you down. Dogs can be like humans. The older they get, the less playful and more grumpy they can be. Find a playmate who has not yet succumbed to the weight of age.
3. Pay attention. Always greet your playmate as if you haven’t seen them for a thousand years, even if you just played with them at the other end of the park 15 minutes ago. Make them feel like they have 100% of your attention.
4. Life is fluid. If another canine runs in to join the fray, it’s okay to stop and give them some attention. Check out if one of you wants to divert your play to the newcomer. If your playmate finds another, don’t fuss. Carry on and be joyful. There’s always another pup for play at the park.
5. Be whole-hearted. Use your whole body, mind and spirit when playing with another. It’s okay to stick your head in your playmates mouth. It’s okay to let them stick their’s in yours. Just remember, this is play. Be joyful. Be gentle of mouth. Be playful of spirit.
6. Life is a dance of reciprocity. It’s okay to let another pup lie on top of you and chew your ear. It’s okay to lie on top of another pup and chew their ear too.
7.  Trust your human. Your job is to play, completely. Your human’s job is to decide when the play is getting too rough. It’s their job to keep you safe and unharmed.
8. Make someone laugh whenever possible. Your job at the park is to give your human lots of reasons to laugh. It makes it easier on you when you don’t listen to them calling if they’re laughing because laughing makes them feel better and they’ll be less inclined to make you sit and stay and do all those boring training things they think are so important. And, bonus! They’ll stay longer at the park when they’re laughing.

Beaumont thinks we go to the park for him. Truth is, we go for the joy of it.

Watching pups play makes my heart feel light. And bonus! I get to meet like-minded people and spend time in the fresh air.

On the Saturday night of Choices, there is a family dance. It’s a no-alcohol, not-mandatory – just ‘come if you feel like it and dance with abandon’ kind of affair.

People turn up. Often, up to 200 – 250 people dancing and laughing and being free and chatting along the edges of the room. People don’t worry about having a partner to dance with.

They just dance.

At times, people will form a large circle and one or two people will leap into the middle and give it their all.

Last Saturday was no different. When I entered the room there was a large circle formed in the centre. I leaped in to say hello to a friend who was dancing and kept spinning and twirling about.

It was fun.

I moved back to the edge of the circle and two young boys, about 8 or 9, leapt into the centre and began to break dance, throwing their bodies onto the floor, spinning on their heads, twisting and gyrating. They were amazing.

One of the boys left the circle, the other raced over to me and waved me into the centre with him.

I didn’t hesitate.

We danced and spun. I kept my feet on the ground while he wormed and gyrated around me. We were laughing and spinning and having fun and when it was time, we moved back to the edge of the circle, someone else entered centre stage and the music and dancing rolled on.

After the song was over he raced over to me, gave me a high-five and said, “That was awesome!”

I smiled big and replied, “Yes! It was. And you’re awesome!”

He looked me full in the face, nodded his head, gave a great big grin and said, “Yes. I am!”

And then he raced off to catch the beat of the next song.

Now, I could say that the whole story was about me, a 61-year-old woman, having the wherewithal to dance with abandon with an 8 year-old, and while I love that thought, what it’s really about is his conviction of his ‘awesomeness’.

When do we lose it?

When do we forget we are awesome. That being the centre of attention is okay. That we can share centre stage and the world will continue to turn and open up to allow more in as we flow in and out and all over?

When do we let go of knowing, ‘we are awesome’.

The news is dire. Predictions grim.

Oil prices are in a slump. The economy is struggling and everyday people are feeling the pinch. Job lay-offs. Hiring freezes. Postponed projects.

It all has an impact.

Yesterday, I felt hopeful.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of sitting in the Alberta Legislature as Finance Minister Joe Ceci tabled his new government’s first budget.

And yes, this budget contains an ‘unprecedented for Alberta’ deficit. And yes, it is based on the hope that oil will recover some of its losses in the next year. And yes, the boost in economic activity is predicated on job creation through capital projects.

The forestry industry should be happy. Looking at the reams of paper this budget consumed, their sales must be up.

Regardless of how thick the stack of paper underpinning the budget, this government believes we can weather this storm. We can pull through, together.

Regardless of how I voted, this is my government, elected because Albertans voted them into the majority of seats in our Legislative Assembly.

Regardless of the party in power, this is still my Alberta too.

Whether I like the budget, or not, whether I voted NDP, or not, this is the framework within which we must operate. This is the government in power.

In listening to the political pundits, in reading the reviews and criticisms, the biggest ‘losers’ as one Calgary Herald report calls it, are smokers and drinkers. This budget means it will cost 5% more for every package of cigarettes and bottle of alcohol we buy.

I can live with that. I can adjust. I don’t smoke — I do drink wine. I have a choice. Cut back or pay up. If I give into my cynical, sarcastic frame of mind, I figure I can drown my sorrows by growing the government coffers. It’s a win/win.

Joking aside, being in the House yesterday was exciting. Fascinating. Entertaining. Illuminating.

The history. The beauty of the Legislative Building. The pageantry. The tradition.

As one new Member of the Legislative Assembly said to me as we chatted in the Rotunda after the budget was tabled, “Sometimes, it’s hard to believe I’m here. I pinch myself every time I walk in.” For them, governing is a sacred trust. A privilege. A humbling experience.

Sitting across from the governing party from where I sat in the Gallery, I too felt humbled. I was impressed with their passion, enthusiasm, and, I must admit, the youth of the those sitting in the seats of power. Sure, we can laugh about the fact some were in a classroom teaching the day before they won their seat in the Legislative Assembly. Or were a barrista or driving a taxi, or in a University classroom as a student, not a professor.

But that isn’t the point.

The point is, they cared enough to run for office. And now, they are our government. They want to do a good job. They want to give their best in the service of all Albertans.

Their job is to take the information and knowledge being shared with them both from the public and their advisors in the public service and put it to work for the benefit of their constituents, all of them. Not just those who voted NDP.

It was a fascinating day yesterday. I sat in question period before the Budget presentation and listened to both sides jockey back and forth as the Opposition members queried the whys and what-for’s and what’s happening next of the majority party members. I listened to the members hammer on their tabletops (a long tradition of the Assembly), call out across the floor and rib each other over what was said, not said, heard but not understood, heard and not agreed with and I felt humbled.

This is our government.

If we want it to work for all Albertans, we need to let go of leaping first to criticize, condemn and complain and step instead into our own power to contribute our best to make a difference for all Albertans.

This government, like all governments, may not do everything right, but from what I experienced yesterday, they are listening to all Albertans, and from what they heard, crafted a plan to move forward while creating change and opportunity and a path towards the future they believe will be for the betterment of all.

Regardless of whether I like the path, it is the path. My job is to figure out how I walk it so that together, we truly can make progress that makes a difference in all our lives.

What excites me most about this election?

My daughters and their friends got engaged. They were not alone. One report I read spoke about the youth vote. How the 20 and 30 somethings carried the day. It was their vote, the reporter said, that swept the red wave across the land.

Thank you Mr. Harper.

You gave them a reason to care. To get informed. To become active in Canada’s political scene. You gave them a symbol of power that lead them to the polls in waves of red shirts armed with their desire to topple the juggernaut of your command of our land.

It was our own Arab Spring á la Canada. There were no guns fired. No troops called out. No blood spilled. No body count, except for the casualties of the political kind where those who once held the sacred ground of office must now give way to their successors. In peace.

Always in peace. We are Canadian and we value peace.

In his acceptance speech last night, Canada’s new Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau said, “Conservatives are not our enemies. They are our neighbours. Leadership is about bringing people of all different perspectives together.”

On our front lawn the ‘Battle of Canada’ was fought with both sides holding ground on either side of our front walkway. On the left, a sign supporting our Liberal hopeful stood proud. On the right, a sign for the man who has become our Member of Parliament representing the Conservatives, stood up to the winds of change, ever hopeful in its ability to hold its ground.

It was the same in the Provincial election last spring. C.C.’s conservatives on the right. My gritty red nature showing on the left. We both agreed that if one of us could wave the flag of their party, so too could the other. It wasn’t about our differing sides of the political spectrum. It was and is about our freedom and desire to express our support, to be engaged, to have a voice in who and how our country is run.

We tease each other about our signs, as do our guests when they come to visit. And we’re okay with it. We know that beneath the colours of the party’s we support is the truth of what each party is about — we love Canada and want the best for our country. We just happen to believe another person/party can do it better.

Regardless,  we are not enemies. We are one in our desire for Canada to stand, proud, strong and free.

This morning, though the Conservative candidate, Ron Liepert, won the seat, only the sign for Liberal hopeful, Kerry Cundal, remains.

I don’t know what happened to the sign. It was there last night when I drove home. Perhaps it blew away in the winds that howled throughout the night. Perhaps, an anonymous Liberal supporter carried it away. We’ll never know.

And it doesn’t matter.

What matter is, when once people told me being a Liberal in Calgary is a loser’s game, I am, like so many in Canada this morning, hopeful.

“My message to you tonight my fellow citizens is simple,” said Trudeau in his acceptance speech. “Have faith in yourselves and in your country. Know that we can make anything happen if we set our minds to it and work hard.”

There is a different political party in command of Canada this morning. But it doesn’t change who we are. It doesn’t change what we, as Canadians, stand for, believe in, value.

We have faith.

Faith in our belief in the rights of every citizen. Faith that we are strong, not in spite of our differences, but because of them.

Turning Tory blue to Liberal red doesn’t change the fundamental values we share; that every Canadian has the right to speak freely, to worship in the pew of their choosing, to wear the symbols of their faith freely and proudly and without fear. To create lives that are filled with dignity, integrity, respect.

It doesn’t change that all Canadians, regardless of their land of birth, want our children to have the futures we dream of, that they aspire to. That each of us can live without fear of one another, without fear of our government, without fear of our policy-makers, judicial system and armed forces.

I do not fear a violent uprising this morning. I do not fear tanks rolling through our streets. I do not fear for my daughters lives or the life of my husband’s son, or all our sons and daughters storming off to war to fight for the right to be free on our common ground of Canada.

This morning, as with every morning as a Canadian, I woke up free. I woke up with all my rights, all my belief in a fair and just society in tact.

That is the privilege of being Canadian. No matter the political party at our helm, we are free.

I am blessed to be Canadian and this morning, I am also very proud.