The dream is not pleasant. It is filled with violence and I am the victim. And I am the perpetrator.

I am semi-awake when I realize what is happening. I don’t want to go back to sleep. The dream is so disturbing.

And then I remember. I have the power to change the course of what is happening in my life, even in my dreams. I have the power to awaken myself.

And so, I take action.

I can  think of only one way to stop the perpetrator of the abuse, who is me. It is violent but it is necessary. I kill her.

I can think of only one way to help the one who was being abused, who is also me. I turn gently to her, wrap her wounds, hold her in my arms and remind her that she is loved. Always.

I awaken fully and feel the tendrils of the dream weaving in and out of my conscious thinking.

What did it mean?

And I remember a recent conversation with a group of women. We were talking about the meaning of grace and one woman shared about an incident with her beloved that broke her heart.

I remember hearing her speak of how broken hearted she was and the thought immediately entered my mind.

Beneath the broken-heartedness for me, is a sense of betrayal, I shared with my friend with the broken heart. A feeling that what I trusted, who I trusted, how I trusted has been betrayed. That what I believed to be true, is not true if we can do these things to one another.

And to ourselves.

Everyday. We betray ourselves, our essence, the magnificence of who we were born to be. We betray ourselves through our actions, words. Through doing things that undermine our beauty and spirit. That strip away our dignity and our humanity.

I am the betrayed. I am the betrayer.

And there I was, a couple of mornings later, killing off the part of me that was mutilating another part of me.

Why was that the only way I could think of to stop her violence?

The dream continues to resonate. It is for me a metaphor of so much that is happening in our world.

We are the betrayed. We are the betrayers.

We beat one another with our words of hatred. We kill each other with our weapons of destruction.

And in each word flung at one another like knives into the heart of our humanity, with each act of violence, we betray the magnificence, the beauty, the purity of our human essence.

We do it to others. We do it to ourselves.

We use food, drugs, alcohol, anger, indifference, abuse, everything we can think of to avoid facing the miracle of who we are, the beauty of our spirits, and the world around us.

We are the vessels of our own betrayal. We are the creators and the destroyers of the birthright of our magnificence we betray every day.

My dream was a call to action. A rallying cry for me to wake up and not participate in the betrayal of the beauty of my human being, of all humanity around me. To not let indifference, or silent consent, or criticising, condemning or complaining about anyone or anything be part of my contribution to my world.

I will only contribute my best.

As a friend said recently when we were talking about the upcoming election here in Canada, “I will not contribute anything negative to the world. I will not engage in the criticism of anyone, no matter their party, no matter how far apart our ideologies. I will only speak my best.”

I killed the perpetrator within me who was killing off the good in me. It was necessary. It was time.

There was no other way for me to awaken.

  The sign said it all. Except, the potholes didn’t seem all that deadly. In fact, they did not meet up to their billing at all.

But perhaps, that was the point of the sign. Not to predict what truthfully lay ahead but rather, to get drivers to slow down, be cautious, pay attention to the road and its possibilities.

Imagine if life came with such a sign. 

Imagine if we were each born with a “Deadly Possibilities Ahead: Live With Caution<” switch.

Imagine if we never tried. To live outside our comfort zones. To experience new things. To venture new places. To meet new people.

Imagine.

The road of life can be filled with deadly potholes. It can also be filled with moments that take your breath away. With vistas that inspire your heart to leap for joy and throw all caution to the winds of fate as you throw yourself into living this moment passing by.

These are the moments worth living for. These are the moments worth adventuring towards. These breath-stealing moments of pure and utter delight where you are immersed in the wonder of being alive, right now.

These moments where every fibre in your body leans into the edge as you leap in freedom-drenched joy.

These moments where you scream out loud in sheer exhilaration and send your voice into the winds of time capturing every sound you make.

These moments where you dance fearlessly in the delight of being alive in this moment right now. At this place, right here. In this way, exactly as you are exactly as the world is around you, right now.

We walked along Wickinnish Beach yesterday. Ran through the waves. Splashed and kicked up frothy sun-speckled water. We laughed and spun about and sat quietly in the sun, woaking up the splendor of the moment, the time right now.

We did not walk with caution. We did not watch for potholes but instead, watched for whales spouting off the shore. Watched to see their giant bodies arc along the curling surface of the rolling seas.

We watched bald eagles sail upon the wind and dive down to pick up an octopus washed ashore as spluttering seagulls kept their distance and cawed in frustration.

We watched a horse and rider canter along the beach and smiled at the infrequent people we passed. We sat on the beach and listened to the surf’s rumbling roar and felt the calming rhythm of the waves wash over us.

We were only two of a handful of people on miles of beach, soaking up the sun, reveling in the salt kissed air, and savouring the beauty of it all.

It was a glorious day. A day to spend hours in the sun at the edge of the land where sky meets sea. Streaky wisps of clouds drifted high overhead while we soaked up every ounce of joy.

Life doesn’t come with warnings of potholes ahead. It comes with its invitation to live it, right now, and savour the  moment, right here.

I’m so grateful.

  We have been here at the westerly edge of Canada for four days now. Four days of walking beaches, exploring tidal pools and rain forests and sipping wine on sundrenched decks at the edge of the water and sharing stories and delectable offerings of Tofino’s restaurants. Four days of letting the world fall away as we fall into the spirit and essence of being at one with the world around us, peaceful in our environment, joyful in eachother’s company.

It takes time to let go of the busy, I have concluded. Time to drop feeling the need to check emails, respond to texts, worry about what is going on, back there, in the not so real world of having to get things done to keep the world going.

The world goes on without my direction. It moves without my effort. It continues without my input. All the world needs from me is to be present, be conscious, be here, where ever I am, as I am and delight in its beauty all around me.

Yesterday, C.C., my eldest daughter, Alexis, who joined us for the weekend, and Beaumont hiked down to Schooner Cove. We walked the boardwalk through the rain forest, traipsed up and down multiple moss trimmed staircases that spanned tree fallen gullies and a burbling stream running its course to the sea beyond the trees.

When we reached our destination, the woods fell back where the sand reached out to kiss the sun-speckled waters lapping at the shore. Gentle waves ebbed in and out, rolling ashore in one long curving crest of white frothed water. 

Beaumont ran and chased the waves, following C.C. where ever he voyaged along rocky outcrops lining the shore.

Alexis and I wandered aimlessly behind, me carrying my shoes, my bare feet lapping up the cool clear waters, my toes digging gleefully into the sand. Alexis snapped photos, racing ahead to entice Beaumont into posing for the perfect photo of bliss on the beach.

Ahhh yes. This is bliss. This is heaven.

Later, we dropped Alexis at the Greyhound Bus Depot for her return to Vancouver before returning to our cabin on the beach, our home away from home at Crystal Cove, a delightfully laid back resort on MacKenzie Beach. After a delicious late afternoon nap, we packed up our picnic basket and headed to the beach for early evening wine and appetizers. Beaumont fell in love with pistachio nuts which C.C. thoughfully shelled for him while the crows jockeyed for position with a Bluejay, begging for their quota too.

And the sun set behind a tree covered outcropping of rock and the cool evening breeze caressed our skin and bliss embraced us all over again.

Ahhh. This is life in all its rich, vibrant, delicious hues. This is Love.

A diamond is the perfect expression of flaws in the earth. 

Family is the perfect expression of loving one another with all our flaws.
 

Art Journal
Louise Gallagher

A thought to carry you into the rest of the week comes from a piece my beautiful friend, Kerry Parsons, shared in a Facebook group we belong to.

‘What we cannot feel, we cannot heal’…is a powerful call in Laudato Si, Pope Francis’ encyclical on climate change…

“Our goal is not to amass information or to satisfy curiosity, but rather to become painfully aware, to dare to turn what is happening to the world into our own personal suffering and thus to discover what each of us can do about it.”

Choosing to allow our hearts to be broken open…drops us to our knees and there in the suffering love enters and, one more time, we rise. We, women empowered by the potency of love, together…do what must be done. (Kerry Parsons)

There is so much in this world that must be done to ease the suffering, end the misery, turn the tides of war and close the gates on hatred so we can open our hearts to love and love alone.

There is much to be done.

To do it, we must open our hearts and minds and allow in the truth of what we are doing to one another, to our planet, to our world. We must allow the truth of what we are doing to drop us to our knees, to break us wide open to one another so that our hearts connect and we become the love flowing all around us, joining us as one.

Connected, we rise. Connected we are strong. Connected we are One Love.

*********************

I am off to coach at Choices and  leave you with some music to start your day (and end your week) from a young man who made a difference my life, Jesse James Cameron formerly of Makeshift Innocence who supported the making of Stand by Me with the musicians and artists of the Calgary Drop-In & Rehab Centre and who shared his story so beautifully.

Namaste.

I fell yesterday. Literally. I fell. Hard.

On the ceramic tiles at the entry to our building downtown.

I had gone out for a breath of fresh air and on my way back in, forgot that when wet, the tiles are slippery. All of a sudden, where once I was standing, my feet slipped out from under me and Kabang! I was lying on my left side on the ground.

It hurt.

Body and ego.

I glanced around to make sure no one saw me, dusted myself off and struggled to my feet.

Whew! Nothing broken. Just a bunch of sore spots that would, I was pretty sure, turn to bruises.

But as the day progressed my body became stiffer and stiffer. My head hurt and my elbow ached. I wanted to come home but couldn’t. I had a 4:30 deadline I could not miss. I had to get it done. With 2 minutes to spare I hit the SEND button on my email and the document was gone.

I could leave.

I came home, told C.C. my tale of woe and crawled into bed. He pampered me and let me rest. Took Beaumont for a walk and played with him in the rain while I lay in bed feeling sorry for myself.

My critter mind wanted to get busy citing the litany of sins I’d committed to make this happen. “Of all the stupid…”  “You should have been more careful.” “You weren’t paying attention.”

I told him to take a hike.

He did, but not until sliding in his favourite, “It could have been worse…”

Yes. It could have been worse. But even that statement is a trigger to my critter mind’s desire to make me feel less than and be other than, in the moment.

It is what it is. A fall.

I did not break any bones. I got some bruises and this morning, before I take Beaumont to the Vet for his final round of shots, I’ll stop at the Chiropractor’s for a quick adjustment. My neck and left shoulder are stiff. My elbow and hip are bruised.

And that’s it.

end of story.

No matter how much my critter mind would like to make it into something else. Some catastrophe averted. Some “OMG! What if…” where I am left lying on the ground, broken and battered, with no help in sight. 

That’s it. I fell. I got up. I carried on. It wasn’t “my fault”. It wasn’t the Universe teaching me a lesson. It wasn’t some macabre whim of fate stepping in to trip me up. 

The ground beneath my feet was slippery. I slipped and fell.

And this morning, a new day is dawning. Daybreak has edged its way over the horizon to cast a new light upon the world. 

A new day is born.

I have a lot to do today and an evening meeting with a community association.

Tomorrow, I’m off to coach at Choices where hearts will break open and in their breaking open blood will flow freely and minds will expand and possibility of what is possible when love runs freely will awaken the spirits of all those who chose to take what Choices calls, “The Adventure of a Lifetime”.

In their hearts breaking open, anything is possible. A broken heart is an open heart and an open heart is a loving heart.

Yesterday I fell. Anything was possible. 

What’s real is, today I am grateful for all the possibilities of my day, for all the gifts of this morning, and all the opportunities I step into when I surrender my fear of falling and fall in Love.

Rain fell. Sleep did not.

A restless night that eventually ended up in restless sleep.

And now, I’m running late.

Must run! Busy week ahead trying to cram a week’s worth of getting things done into two days – Wednesday I begin a week at Choices coaching.

May your day be blessed with moments that fall as gently as the rain, nurturing the garden of your heart.

And to accompany you on your day,  a beautiful song list I found on YouTube:  Top 10 Rain Songs of Jin Shi

Overpainting that became the underpainting.
Sep 2, 2015

I had forgotten and in my forgetfulness did not realize how much I was missing, how much the lack of its presence was impacting my daily living.

And then, I stepped in front of the canvas. I stood and breathed and held myself in that space where time floats away and all that is left is the moment now, the moment of creation.

I had forgotten.

That moment where I become one with being present, one with the moment, one with the muse.

And then, I let go my fear and found myself in that place where in fear’s presence love flowed fearlessly into my being part of its flow.

And I remembered.

I remembered the joy, the bliss, the grace of letting go of fear and surrendering to the muse calling me to create.

The memory of trees are buried in the roots deep beneath our feet.
September 9, 2015
Mixed Media
Louise Gallagher

And in my remembering, I fell.

Into the art of creating for the sheer joy of creating. For the utter bliss of being one with the paint flowing, the canvas calling, the brush strokes appearing effortlessly, fluidly, simply.

I fell

and became part of the flow

one with the muse

all in

in Love.

My laptop is not well.

It’s been churning and spinning, slower and slower.

So… no blog today. 🙂

I did try working on my piece on my Ipad but it just isn’t the same.

While I have been able to post using the Ipad, I don’t feel as flexible nor as confident.

So, another choice to let it go for today and simply be present in the flow.

This weekend is my mother’s 93rd Birthday celebration. My sister arrived last night and we are about to take Beaumont to the park for his walk.

Tomorrow, my family are coming to celebrate my mom’s birthday dinner together.

Spending time with those I love in the ‘real’ world feeds my heart. It nourishes my soul.

May you spend your time this weekend nourishing your heart and soul.

Namaste.