There is a place and a time for all things. Yet, so often, I want that place and that time to be of my choosing, not someone else’s or even nature’s or the universe.

Being patient, taking care and allowing what is present for someone else be what is present is one of those great lessons of having a puppy that just keeps repeating itself, again and again

Beaumont is three months old today.  On the weekend, he had lots of opportunity to teach me lessons about life and love and being patient, persistent and optimistic.

I didn’t get them all. Sometimes, I messed up on the lesson.

I’m learning.

  Lesson 1: Having fun is not an interlude from life. It is part of life. Just like with work or any endeavour, it’s important to take time to stop and breathe. And if you happen to be playing with someone else, like your brother Satish, when over-excited, you gotta take a break. Otherwise, like with so many things, fun becomes not so fun and then, fun’s all over!

Lesson 2: Baby, it’s hot out there, chill out. Put your feet up, sit with your feet in a bucket of cold water, or better yet, get a puppy pool and share it with your furry friend. Splashing about is fun, and who cares if the floor gets wet and muddy when you go in the house? That’s why they invented mops.

Lesson 3:  Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. Not everyone wants to have their butt sniffed, especially the cat.  

Lesson 4:  When you make a mistake, don’t get all bent out of shape. Begin again. Just because I haven’t done it for awhile, doesn’t mean I’m all house-broken, especially in new and different spaces where other doggies go. Clean up the mess and begin again. Enough said.

Beaumont sunning on the deck.

We are all human scientists, continually searching for evidence the lies we tell ourselves about ourselves are true.

Last week, an incident occurred that fired a deep-seated lie within me. The details of the incident are not all that important. What is important for me, is my response to what happened.

“See Louise,” the critter voice hissed. “You don’t belong. Nobody wants you. I told you not to trust them. I told you if you let down your guard you’d get hurt. Ha? See. You should’ve known better.”

I knew that my fear I did not belong or was not wanted was not real, but for a moment, it didn’t matter. These are toehold beliefs.  I felt the old familiar ache in my heart. The tears gathering at the back of my eyes. The constriction of my throat.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

I swallowed hard and gave my automatic response in times of fear. I smiled and sat there and didn’t say a word.

The critter was on full alert, screaming at me to Dive! Take cover. And above all, “Don’t trust yourself to stay in this place. Don’t trust anyone or anything around you!”

The critter doesn’t believe he’s telling me lies. He sees his job as keeping me safe. Without a thought to the longterm consequences, or to the reality of where I’m at, he compares past events with current and determines the best and quickest route to safety. And then, he madly goes about trying to convince me to heed his advice.

The critter does not see into the future. He can only look back and back there, behind me, is a mess of times when I felt unprotected, unaware, unconscious of my own power.

Not now.

This time, when the critter went into high gear, I slowed down.

I breathed and breathed again.

And here’s the deal.

This all happened in the passing of a few moments. It had little to do with the circumstances I encountered that triggered the critter’s cries to dive and take cover.

It had everything to do with my old path of believing the lies I tell myself when I feel unwanted, insecure, invisible or just simply take what someone else is doing as a measure of my worth.

When I spoke with the individual whose words/actions triggered my unease, they asked me a very important question.

“What’s it going to take for you to know you are loved here Louise?”

“I don’t know,” I replied.

And then, I got to thinking about their question.

What’s it going to take?

It’s going to take me making the decision that I am and then, acting as if I believe it’s true – no matter what.

See, that’s the thing about being a scientist. We get to prove what we believe, true or false.

I believe Love is always present.

Yet, in times of stress, my disbelief in Love overwhelms my belief and I become fixated on proving “I am not safe” true.

Most of us do that with our emotions. We find one that works, that seemingly keeps us safe, and then, we bring it out, again and again in similar situations hoping it works, again and again and again. We might have a set or series of different emotional responses to similar situations we incorporate into our being, but always we bring them out, again and again when faced with situations the critter determines are similar to past experiences. Unfortunately, when dealing with our hearts, we don’t tend to look for new ways to respond unless our health, relationships, life is compromised to a point, we have not other choice.

Change or be changed. Find a new path or stay stuck in the fear our deepest fear is true.

I am grateful. I was given the gift of seeing my deepest fear is just a reptilian response that does not serve me well.

Instead of giving into my fears, all I have to do in moments when my fear Love isn’t present is triggered, is to breathe and decide, I believe it is true — and then, spend my time proving myself right.

We all carry scars on our hearts. Those leftover renmants of the wounds and pains inflicted upon our beings when we were too young to understand or decipher the circumstances of life we didn’t understand or couldn’t make sense of.
In our youthful ignorance, we thought the things that happened to us were true, our fault, messages of our worth and took to heart the painful and unkind words or actions of others  to mean, we were unloveable, stupid, undeserving, unworthy.

As we grew into our teens and adulthood, we carried those scars with us, believing that holding onto them would protect us from further pain or hurt. And as we grew, the tissue around the scars hardened until our hearts became a mass of hard knots not even our brightest thinking could unravel.

In desperation, we adapted our behaviour to protect ourselves from our deepseated fear; those harmful words and actions, those wounds we carried, are our truth. That we really are stupid, undeserving, unworthy, unloveable. And to hide our fear it is true, we acted out. We hid behind our masks, those smiles we put in place to disguise our pain, the laughter we wielded like a sword, the anger we carry like a shield, the sadness we inhabit like a cloak to protect us from the chill harsh winds of life.

They are not true. Those thoughts that rifle through your mind, telling you that you do not deserve to be happy, that others are always out to get you, that the universe is not on your side or that nothing good ever happens for you. They are not true.

Just as it is not true that you are unworthy, unloveable, undeserving or stupid.

Those are just the thoughts that formed long ago when life dealt you a harsh blow and you were not old enough to make sense of other people’s nonsense.

We are all deserving and worthy of love. We are all loveable and loving. We are all unique in our own perfectly human way.

It’s just, hurting people hurt people.

When we were young, our parents, those who cared for us, those who taught us and lead us did not know any better than to do what they did to make sense of their worlds. What they did was never about our worth. It was always an expression of how worthy, or unworthy, they felt themselves to be. It was always a statement of what they believed to be true in their life.

We all carry wounds on our hearts. Our job, as adults, is to heal those wounds so that they no longer dictate our actions and limit our capacity to love and find joy in this world of wonder.

Namaste.

coaching at Choices this week. See you Monday.

Beaumont (l) and his brother, Satish (r), playing together.

Life flows.

Everywhere. Every way. Every direction. Filling every space, every nook and cranny with its essence.

We flow with it. Sometimes, we attempt to flow against it. To try to beat its pulse. To pummel its essence into a shape and form that suits us.

And always, life flows.

We are, each and every one of us, part of the flow of life all around. We are not all the flow. We are all our part of its flow.

We can rail against it. We can scream and holler and kick and scream. Or, we can be one with the flow. Allowing the ebbs and flow of our part of it to be our constant companion in grace and ease.

Last night, Beaumont decided his part was to wake up at 2 am. For an hour.

Beaumont’s part means my part changes its course.

We got up together and went out into the backyard and for awhile, became part of night flowing all around us.

It was beautiful. Quiet. Serene. A deep night sky shimmering above filled with stars seen and unseen. The leaves shivered in a sibilant whispery cacophony of song rising on the almost still night air.

I threw Beau’s toy. He chased it and brought it back. Again and again.

Eventually, Beau remembered sleep, or perhaps its call overrode his excitement of being out in the middle of the night. He returned to his kennel, happy and content, and I returned to bed.

it is unusual for Beau to awaken in the middle of the night.

Perhaps, last night he knew there was magic afoot in the back yard.

Perhaps, he knew I needed a reminder of the mystery and magic in the stirrings of the night.

No matter the reason, his awakening gave me the gift of standing in the quiet of the dark listening to the whispering of the leaves in the night.

It was all my part of the flow, because no matter where life leads us, we are all part of the flow. Our own special, unique part. Connected through life. Forever.

I am running off early this morning to take my eldest daughter to the airport.

So…. instead of a post by me, I invite you to click the link below and visit Talk to Diana. You will be inspired, moved and your heart will be touched.

Don’t Be Fooled By Me.

Don’t be fooled by me. Don’t be fooled by the face I wear for I wear a mask, a thousand masks, masks that I’m afraid to take off, and none of them is me.

Pretending is an art that’s second nature with me, but don’t be fooled, for God’s sake don’t be fooled.

READ MORE>>>

   

 He has been with us 27 hours and already Beaumont the Warrior Pup is teaching many lessons.
Less than 12 pounds his fluffy black and white body lays still in my arms, his desire to get close, to lay right next to my heart, overriding any need to run free.  

And then, he finds something to explore and wanders off, each exploration taking him further and further from me, until, he reaches the limits of his comfort zone and returns to my side. Right now, he is lying on the grass at my feet, chewing on a slim rawhide the man at the pet store gave him when we went out on an adventure.

Beaumont is not happy in the back seat of the car. It’s too far from human connection, too alone and he has no qualms about voicing his disatisfaction.  The man at the pet store told me not to worry. Give him a few days and he’ll remember only your love. You’re the one he’ll get close to. Help him feel safe.

Good advice, for anyone. pup or human.

Lesson No 1. from the Warrior Pup: Get close. Climb into someone’s heart just by being you and stay close. Always. You gotta be close to those who love and support you to know the true value of love and all its safety.

Lesson No 2.  Expect nothing but love. Settle for nothing less and count on those who love you to keep you safe when you first venture out into new or unknown territory. They love you, they won’t let you down in Love.

Lesson No 3: Treasure every  small thing. See the delight in the smallest thing, from a leaf flying on the breeze stirring the grasses on the lawn to a flower drooping over the edge of a pot, to a dish of water sparkling in the sun on the deck. Take delight and treasure even the smallest things in life.

Less No 4:  Take lots of naps.  Life on the outside of your comfort zone can be tiring. Nap often. Nap next to your favourite person or with your belly pressed full out along the floor if you’re hot. But no matter what, nap often.

TENDERED ARMS
by Louise Gallagher

White dove
riding high
trailing winds

blowing

wings folded
bearing arms
tendered
where angelic hosts
render peace
out of nothing

windblown

breathless
white wings folded
resting
in hope
born of
nothing more
than air
moving through time

standing still

a breadth
of sky
consuming
all
matter
becoming
nothing
breathing
into nothing
knowing nothing
more than

a belief

peace
will come
when white doves
sail
on windblown
skies
and earth turns
in time
to find
peace
bearing arms
of Love.

1.  Get moving!

Get outside. Get into nature. Go for a walk. Garden. Run. Play in the snow. The river. The mud. And don’t forget to take me with you. I like being outdoors. There’s so much out there to explore and it’s just good doginess to share it!

2.  Stop and smell the roses.

Breathe. Smell the air. Heck, smell my fur, even when it’s wet. Bury your face in the sweet, juicy aromas of life. Sure, it can be messy and prickly. But it’s always beautiful and fruitful and full of sweet smells and reminders of how wonderful it is to be alive. Remember, you gotta BREATHE it all in.

3.  Show, act, feel, be Love.

Pet me. Rub my belly. Fuss over me. I’m a dog. That’s what I need and it’s what you need too! Love all over me and know, no matter what, love really is the answer. Try it with the people in your life too. It really works. Why do you think I do it with you?

4.  Fill the whole canvas of your life.

Sit. Sprawl. Laze about. Let yourself sink into nothing but the pure joy of doing nothing. Block doorways. Lay in the middle of the room. Take up all the space you need to get comfortable. It’s your life. Your space. Fill it and do it often. Life looks better when you’re stretched out filling the whole canvas of your life.

5.  Chase your dreams (and butterflies too).

Chase butterflies. Dragonflies, even bumblebees. You don’t have to catch them. The joy is in the running about, chasing after nature and feeling the wind against your skin, or fur if you’re me.

6.  Let your sillies out.

Dance in the rain. Run barefoot in the grass. Don’t be shy. Don’t tell yourself you’re too old or too proper or too whatever. You’re never too anything to act silly and free. Kick your shoes off and feel the earth — I’ve never understood why people, and horses for that matter, wear shoes. They’re so distracting.

7.  Set yourself free of your secret hurts and pains.

Talk to yourself – which is like… talking to me. Tell yourself all your sorrows, your secrets, your fears, your dreams. It’s okay. No one else can hear you except me and I will always listen and never judge and never tell another soul. Your secrets are mine to keep.

8.  Let your happy shine, where ever you go!

Greet everyone you meet, even strangers and that girl with the tattoos and piercings and dog collar around her neck, with a big happy smile. And btw, I don’t understand why people wear dog collars. They’re for dogs, people, because we’re special. But I digress. Greet people like you’re really, really happy to see them. Try some wiggles and squirms, lick them even! Or, as you humans like to do, give them a peck on the cheek, but really, really mean it! Be happy to see them. Let your happy shine, where ever you go! Heaven knows, the world needs more wriggles and squirms and happy greetings. And by the way, so do you.

9.  Savour every morsel of life (and whatever else is on your plate)

Always, always, clean your plate. Yup. I know. Your parents told you this. Difference is, what you don’t eat, you can give to me, I’m not picky and will eat anything you don’t, and then some! (and that’s how you clean your plate btw while also savouring every morsel of life) Oh. And no artichokes please. I don’t like the prickles. Which brings me to my final point;

10.  Follow your heart (and let me be your guide).

Only consume, buy, eat, do, speak, think, create, the things that create more joy, laughter, love and caring in your life. Be picky! Don’t settle for something just because it’s there. Make your own choices. Make your own path. Make your own waves. Remember, I chose you and you’re the bestest friend a dog could ever have, which is saying a lot for someone who is not a dog. And you truly are great, especially when you remember to follow your heart, oh, and let me be your guide.

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

In honour of Ellie the Wunder Pooch who passed away on this day a year ago, I have reposted her Guide to Life. She sure knew how to live it!

Thank you Ellie for your wisdom, for sharing your joy and your forever love.

Namaste.