Yesterday, my eldest daughter Alexis had a blog she wrote published at Project True, Learning to exercise your right to be you.  I wanted to stand up and cheer  and yell and scream. Go Alexis Go! What courage. What determination. What beauty and honesty.

And then, I wonder.

Where did it begin? This eating disorder. How?

Was it when she was little and a pickie eater and I didn’t insist she eat everything on her plate, even the stuff she didn’t like — unlike my parents who made me clean my plate even though I offered to pack it up and send it to the starving children in Africa ?

Was it when she had sugar and the after-effects immediately presented themselves in a tantrum and I cut sugar out of her diet because I knew it wasn’t good for her?

Or maybe it was from birth? She was a spitter-upper. Some books called it projectile vomitting. Breastmilk. Formula. Pablum. Didn’t matter, she could chuck it up like a lumberjack tossing a log at a strongman contest.

Was it when… and I search the memory banks for reasons why, as if I expect a path to clear and expose, The Source. As if I expect the clouds to part and reveal, The Cause.

As if I believe there is one moment in time, one instance, that if I see it I will know the whys and hows and ins and outs of her eating disorder.

As if that would make a difference.

It doesn’t. Make a difference. It doesn’t change what is. My daughter has an eating disorder. And her eating disorder is not about ‘food’. It’s not about eating sugar, or not. It’s not about cleaning your plate as a little girl, or learning to eat your vegetables.

An eating disorder is deeper than what’s on your plate. An eating disorder, like so much of what makes us who we are, is found deep within our psyches. And my daughter has had the courage to dig into her truth. She has had the strength to face ‘Ed’ in the mirror and say, “You don’t own me”.

She is the one doing the healing. She is the one doing the hard work of recovery. She is turning up, courageous, passionate, sometimes scared, sometimes fearless, always real. She is turning up, in all her woundedness, in all her beauty. She is turning up. And turning up makes a difference.

It is hard for me, her mother, to accept that there is no one moment in time where, if I had done this, or said that, it would all have been different. That there is no one incident that if I’d just seen, or heard, or been, or done something other than what I did or said, that it would have been different.

I want to make it all about me. I want to find what I could have done to make it all different, that one thing, or many things, I didn’t do that would have changed the course of this disease.

It is not about me.

And that is hard to accept because I want to believe there is ‘an answer’ that will give me the power to take this away from her. And there isn’t. And in acknowledging there isn’t, I have to accept, and honour, the truth.

I love my daughter, exactly the way she is. And who she is includes having an eating disorder. It is messy. Ugly. Painful. And I can’t take it away from her. Because an eating disorder isn’t who she is. She is a young woman of great courage, beauty and strength. Her courage is founded in her strength, her willingness to be real, to be authentic, to share her journey, beauty, warts and all, and be true to herself.

There were many paths, many instances, may acts that brought her to this moment in time. It isn’t the path she took to get here that is making the difference. She is making the difference in the choices she makes today. She is making the difference in speaking out, turning up, standing up for herself and others. She is shining a light on the path of recovery for others to follow and in her brilliance, there is truth.

It is scary at times being the mother of a daughter with an eating disorder.

But not as scary or hard as being the one carrying the secrets and shame of this disease. Not as hard as being the one learning to let go of ‘Ed’ so that you can heal.

t is hard work looking into the darkness of ‘Ed’ to see the light. But, as my daughter is showing so many, when you do, you will find yourself at the core of your being the one you are, the beautiful, magnificent, shining human being of worth beyond your wildest imaginings.

And I want to stand up and shout and cheer  and yell and scream, Go Alexis Go!

The long view

It was a picture-perfect evening for a walk. A stiff breeze blew through the trees, clouds billowed like heavenly cotton candy at the foot of the mountains to the west. Ellie and I walked in the sunshine, our gait sure as we travelled the path we travel every day. East along the ridge of the reservoir and then west, back towards the parking lot where we began.

Being with Ellie on any path, reminds me always to see the world through fresh eyes. She is eager to begin. Always excited by every step. She doesn’t care that we’ve walked this path hundreds of times. She only cares that she is outside, exploring the big wide world, experiencing life beyond the confines of our home. She sniffs and investigates as if she’s never been or seen this place before. Each blade of grass calls her anew, each fresh scent beckons with tantalizing aromas she must explore. Ellie does not know the word, ‘bored’.

Ellie’s Friends

Last night as we walked, we rounded a corner and came upon a group of artists painting the view from the top. They are part of the Friends of the Weaselhead, preparing canvases for a showing in the spring. Each had their own take on the view, their own style, their own interpretation. Realism. Cubism. Abstract, they each interpreted what they saw through their own unique style.

Les Artistes

Like each of us. Seeing the world through our own unique perspective, filtering life through our own experiences, ideas, values and beliefs. Where one sees darkness, the other sees the light. Where one sees the shadows, the other sees the angles where the sun hits.

Ellie and I had a delightful walk last night. The sun cast shadows upon the path. Summer was in full bloom along the trail. Sailboats scuttled across the water, looking for the perfect gust of wind to carry it further and faster. Families gathered around picnic tables sharing food and laughter. Bicyclists sped by. Two stopped, called out our names and Ellie, her whole body writhing with joy, bounded over to say hello. It was her favourite friend, Dejana and her boyfriend Mike. When C.C. and I were in San Francisco, Dejana, a long-time friend of my daughters who is currently writing her Masters thesis, came and stayed at the house. Ellie was in heaven. All day company. Many walks. Tons of affection, and buckets of treats. Seeing Dejana made the walk extra perfect in Ellie’s mind. She got hugs and pets and lots of attention. what could be better than that?

Catching the wind

It was a perfect evening for a walk last night and as Ellie and I meandering along the path I said a prayer of gratitude for the beauty of the evening, the wonder of the world and the joy within my heart.

Ellie the Wonder Pooch

Seeing the world through fresh eyes every day makes a difference.
*****************

Today’s Peace Poem is The Way.

When I arrive at the restaurant where I am meeting a girlfriend for dinner, billowy clouds are gathering on the horizon, piling up in black and ominous force at the foot of the Rockies in the west. Above me, the sun is shining, the sky is mostly blue and we picked this restaurant so we could sit outside on the patio.

I find a table under a summery umbrella and when my girlfriend arrives, we settle in for a long overdue visit.

And then, the clouds march closer, the sky darkens.

It’s not going to rain, we say.

And then, thunder rolls in threatening booms across the sky.

It’s not going to rain, we repeat.

And then, the sky gets darker yet, the wind picks up. There are still several other diners outside but we decide to move in, no sense battling the wind while trying to enjoy our dinner.

We move inside to a table by the window, “It’s almost like being outside”, the manager, Frank says to us as he seats us.

We laugh and continue on with our conversation.

Outside, people continue to brave the elements, until, the skies open up and rain and hail pelt the ground. They all race inside. Frank the manager and his staff race around closing up umbrellas, tipping up the chairs.

It pours. And it pours. Sheets of water streaming from the sky.

And we keep talking, catching up, sharing news of daughters and men and happenings in our lives and the rain keeps pouring down.

It’s then that Frank, the manager, pulls out his hero card. A couple of guests are waiting inside the front doors hoping for a break in the downpour so they can race to their cars.

Frank, runs outside to the patio, grabs a big festive lawn umbrella, props it open and walks the guests to their cars. He does it, again and again.

Now that’s service. That’s a commitment to ensuring the guest experience is memorable.

We didn’t need Frank’s assistance when we left. The rain had stopped and the sun had returned to the sky. But, I kind of wished it was still raining. I kind of wished I could have been walked to my car by a pleasant young man who takes customer service so seriously.

Thank you Frank the manager at the Phoenix Grill in Westhills. You made a difference to a lot of people last night. And, you made me smile.

When I was a little girl I loved to play hide and seek. I loved to run through sprinklers and ride my bike as fast as I could down a hill. I loved to swim and climb up high and leap down, imagining I was swimming the ocean deep or leaping from great heights. My favourite book was “What Katie Did” and anything with Nancy Drew or Trixie Belden in the title. Now those girls did things! They solved mysteries and crimes and found lost things and took care of business!

When I was a little girl I didn’t understand why girls couldn’t do everything boys did. I didn’t understand why girls had to be ‘all sugar and spice’. I wanted to get down and dirty running barefoot in the mud. I wanted to skin my knees crawling through rain culverts and sleep out under the stars deep in the forest and be fearless and free.

I didn’t want to have to worry about boogie men in the dark and wild beasts roaming the forest deep. I didn’t want to have to worry about keeping my dress clean, or what would the neighbours think.

But I did. And in worrying about all those things, my life became prescribed by all those things I worried about.

In my twenties, I lived in a house surrounded by trees on a hillside deep in the forest. I loved to run outside in the rain and run barefoot through the mud. I loved to stand deep in the forest and howl at the full moon. I loved to dance as if no one was watching and sit on the forest floor practicing laughing yoga.

In my twenties, I worked hard, doing the same job as ‘a man’, earning ‘a man’s keep’. But I never felt equal. I never felt I held the same value.

I thought it was because of the lessons of my youth that taught me men held the upper hand in life. I thought it was the world, out there, dictating who and how I was in the world. I thought it was ‘their’ fault.

And then I had daughters. How could I teach them of their infinite worth if I didn’t believe in mine?

I set out to find me.

I am older now. My daughters young women making their way in the world. Through our journey together I have fallen, many times, in many ways, to many depths. But always, it didn’t matter that I fell, what mattered most was that I stood up again. What mattered most was that I found my way, again. That I began, again. That I stepped free of what was to become what is, right now, right here, again and again and again because I wanted my daughters to know, we all fall in life. It’s just what happens. But we don’t all get back up — even when we can. And I wanted them to know, it was the standing up again that made the difference, not the falling down.

I am standing tall now. Standing tall and being all that I can be because I have quit believing who I need to be is dictated to by a world that frightens me. And that’s what makes the biggest difference in my life today. Being unafraid of the world ‘out there’ because I know, in here I am safe. I am me.

I still like to run barefoot in the mud, howl at the full moon and practice laughing yoga. I still like to ride my bike as fast as I can down hills and swim deep beneath the surface. I still believe in magic. I still see miracles everywhere. I still love to feel the sun on my skin, the wind at my back.

I still like to dance like nobody’s watching.

What I have found in the search for me is that while those things are fun and freeing, they are not what makes the difference. What makes the difference is that I am me. You are you. We are each our own unique selves, living life our way, creating more of what makes a difference, doing less of what hurts the world and ourselves.

Years ago I set out to find myself and discovered I was always there. I was always within, waiting for me to find the key to letting go of blaming the world, ‘out there’ for how I felt, inadequate, worthless, little, small… whatever I told myself I was that was keeping me from living my best self yet.

The difference, I have found, is not in what is going on in the world out there. The difference is what is happening inside me. It’s in how I see myself, not how the world sees me.

The difference is in being me.

As the road passes by

Ellie and I travelled westward last night, the sun a brilliant ball of light calling for the night to fall. Golden fields of wheat shimmered in the evening light, starlings and hawks and magpies sat on fence posts or flirted with wings spread wide, dancing with the evening breeze. I watched two starlings chase a hawk, Away! Away! they seemed to call.

And in the backseat, Ellie slept. She is a good traveller, Ellie the Wonder Pooch. She seldom stirs, seldom even sits up to look out the window. She simply lies sprawled across the backseat, resigned to the fact she is encased in a metal capsule until such time as I release her.

It’s the nice thing about travelling with Ellie. I stop more often for mini-breaks. Five minutes here to let her stretch her legs. Five minutes there to let  answer the call of nature.

The route C.C. drew out for me was fairly deserted. Backroads, all beautifully paved and marked, but backroads none the less. No semis. No giant motor homes. No trailers hauled behind cars too small to pull them. A few pick-ups. A few cars. And a long straight road piercing the endless fields of grain sprawling out on all sides of me. North. South. East. West. Grain fields rolled into forever.

There is lots of time to think and ruminate and meditate when driving in the prairies. The long view pulls me into its thrall, calling me to look back, forward, inside, out.

And in the long view, I see the difference time has made on what was, and is no more.

In the long view, I see the signposts of roads taken, intersections crossed, corners turned.

In the long view, I see life sprawling out in all its wonderful and mysterious directions.

Life. It is always there. Always abounding. Always, being what it is.

Ellie sees the long view

As the miles passed by, I listened to an interview on CBC Radio conducted with Jungian psychologist and author,  James Hollis. Dr. Hollis and I agree on many things, and one of them is — the difference we make in the world isn’t because of what happens. It’s created in what we do, how we respond to what happens.

Dr. Hollis said, and I can’t remember his words exactly so I’ll use mine… The universe doesn’t care. It isn’t that ‘the world’ is out to get us. There is no script for how we’ll be treated by life. We are the creators of that script. The events that transpire are in response to our responses. The events are man-made. The Universe is Divinely-created, or whatever your belief, God, Buddha, Allah — the Universe just is. We are what/who makes a difference in our lives. How we respond to the Divine essence of our lives on earth makes our lives different.

Earlier this year I took a course at Abbey of the Arts where each day we were invited to meditate and respond to a series of questions posted by Abbey abbess, Christine Valters Paintner. Christine also invited us to draw a mandala, write a poem, do something creative to experience our responses to the questions posed in different ways.

In my exploration through that 40 day course, a mini-pilgrimage into the desert for Lent, I discovered a ‘truth’ I’d been holding onto that, in my grip, was limiting my life. I didn’t trust ‘the universe’. I didn’t trust it to turn up and support me. In fact, I often expected it to let me down.

If, as Dr. Hollis suggests, it’s not about what the Universe can do for me, but what I can do for it, then not trusting this sentient energy that is all around me is a self-defeating game of giant proportions!

Beauty at the corner

Trusting the Universe to be ‘on my side’, is a simple flip of the switch from ‘not-trusting’ to trusting. Either side of the equation, it is just a thought. A leap from one side of the road, to the other. A step from north to south, east to west. No matter which direction I go, trusting the universe to simply be, and holding myself 100% accountable for how I am in the world makes a world of difference.

I drove westward into the setting sun last night and found myself opening up to the possibilities of life spreading out in the long view all around me.

It is an amazing world we live in. It’s up to each of us to live it up for all we’re worth! To make all that we can of this one and only wild and precious life that is our miracle of creation.

I met her at our weekly Tuesday night, Summer of Peace Calgary 2012 meeting. When I heard her speak, I was captivated, in awe, intrigued. How can one woman do so much? How can one woman make such a difference and stay so committed throughout her lifetime to ensuring the difference she is making leaves the world a better place?

I prompty asked her if she’d be a guest blogger and she graciously replied, ‘of course’.

Karen Huggins is the Executive Director of Project Ploughshares Calgary. In my brief encounter with her, I felt peaceful!  She is gentle-spirited, kind. She radiates peaceful energy all around.

I’ve included her bio at the bottom — imagine, a Masters in Peace Education!

I am grateful as well that Karen sent me her blog entry last night as I didn’t bring my own computer with me for the weekend, and the blog I had originally scheduled for today is there, waiting. Thank you Judy Atkinson — stay tuned everyone for next Sunday’s guest blogger as Judy is a wise woman drumming up peace and joy and wonder and next Sunday she shares her brilliance here.

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

Making a Difference with Peace Work

by Karen Huggins

Making a difference in the world is part of my work, part of my psyche, part of who I have been since childhood.  I am indeed fortunate and blessed to have a job that allows me to put my personal beliefs into action! I have long been an activist – writing letters, marching, drumming, protesting the injustices that seemingly permeate our world.  These injustices have included the Vietnam War, nuclear proliferation, women’s rights, the Iraq War, racism and discrimination, the rights of immigrants and refugees…you get the picture!  I am passionate about peace, and believe that when we achieve true peace – these injustices will simply melt away into the background. To me, peace is not just about the absence of physical violence, but also the absence of structural violence.  (Examples of structural violence:  institutionalized discrimination; homelessness; inadequate funding for women’s shelters; policies that favour corporations over people…).

True peacemaking addresses structural violence at its very core through advocating for human rights, justice and compassion towards all beings, environmental care, intercultural solidarity, inner peace, and finally for the abolition of a culture of war.  When all these issues are dealt with in a meaningful way, we will be on the path to true peace in the world.

So – how do we achieve peace?  How do we change the political and economic systems that tend to promote various forms of structural violence?  The answers to these questions lie within each and every one of us, when we  open our hearts and minds and listen carefully to our inner, wiser selves!  When we find that sense of inner peace within ourselves, nurture it, learn from it, and take care that we are kind and loving to ourselves, we naturally radiate an outward sense of peace and are able to spread that to others around us, beginning with our families and then on to our friends, communities, and the larger world.

My own sense of personal peace is derived from the simple things in life:  quiet time for reflection and meditation, time spent with my family and friends, and time spent in activities that somehow contribute to making a better world for future generations.  Thich Nhat Hanh says it best when he says that, “happiness does not come from possessing something or someone, it comes from kindness and compassion, from helping to ease suffering.”

I have studied many religious traditions during my life.  I have explored Indigenous spirituality with traditional medicine men and women, studied Buddhism with Tibetan lamas, and embraced Sufism with its message of love and beauty.  The lessons I have learned have been invaluable in gaining self-awareness and in developing my own sense of reverence for the natural world and compassion for all living beings, as well as an informed and engaged approach to social activism.

I have long envisioned a world where all people are treated fairly and have access to education, health care, food, water, security, and freedom of movement. I have actively imagined a world where resources are equitably shared and used wisely so that future generations will not be adversely affected by our actions today.

My 2½ year old granddaughter is the light of my life – when I look at her, play with her, and watch her relate to this whole new world around her, I know very well that  my personal goal is to leave a beautiful, just and humane world for my children and grandchildren and their children to enjoy and revel in.  Really, there’s no other option!

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

Karen Huggins – Bio

Karen and her husband are proud parents to eight wonderful adult children, as well as grandparents to a delightfully busy 2-year-old.  Her family is very supportive of the work that she does in terms of peacebuilding, which is a large part of her current job as the Program Director of Project Ploughshares Calgary and as a member of the Executive of the Consortium for Peace Studies at the University of Calgary.

Karen holds a B.A. in English from Miami University, Oxford, Ohio; a B.A. in Latin American Studies from the University of Calgary; and an M.A. in Peace Education from the United Nations mandated University for Peace in Costa Rica. Her research interests have included autonomy and transnational advocacy, sustainable development, participatory democracy, and consumerism and peace, making her a natural fit for the principles of the EverGreen Party.

Karen believes that we need to foster a society based on human need, not on rampant extraction of our natural resources, consumerism, and war.  As a practitioner of peace who is firmly grounded in peace education theory and practice, she is an avid supporter of peaceful solutions to our seemingly intractable problems and believes that a culture of peace is possible

She is very enthusiastic about building a better world for ALL people

I am in Saskatoon for the weekend. Ellie and I drove here yesterday, through fields of grain waving in the sun-soaked fields shimmering with harvest bounty under a cerulean sky that arced off into forever.

When I arrived, C.C. was waiting for me at the house we just bought. It is sweet and charming, a ‘period piece’. Rounded doorway, arched entrances to rooms and a huge yard for Ellie to roam. We settled in and then C.C. and I went off to a Latino restaurant where we sampled Latin fare and watched dancers learn the steps to a Cuban dance I’d never heard off.

People got up and danced, shared laughter and missteps, well-executed moves, spins and one-two, one-two threes with stumbling grace that moved into ease. C.C. and I watched and enjoyed a Marguerita. One man came and tried to cajole us into dancing, but after a long day of driving, I was content to simply sit back and watch.

Those who get up and dance, learn new steps, take a chance on being on the floor are heroes.

On Thursday night, 30+ people joined me to greet and meet and make peace with their inner muse. They were courageous, funny, committed to simply being in that place of creative exploration.

People who are willing to let go, to explore and challenge their inner selves are heroes.

Last night, before the dancing started, C.C. and I watched parts of the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympic Games. I watched the laughing, smiling faces of the atheletes, their parents and loved ones in the stands cheering them on, the crowds. I watched the wonder of the spectacle of the ‘show’, the lights and flames and fireworks and parachutists falling from the sky and byclists dressed up like birds seeming to fly and I was in awe.

Those who compete, who support them, who challenge them. Those who create and allow and make happen the wonder and awe of the Games are all heroes.

Who are you heroes? Have you celebrated anyone today?

The wind tells many stories. It journeys across the globe collecting tall tales of adventures passed, of lives lived on the edges of possibility, of lives lost on the margins of defeat. It howls through canyons, skips across rivers, slides through city scapes and along one way roads to somewhere only the wind knows. It swirls and dips and blows and cavorts into and out of time and space and far-off places only the wind can get free of.

Yesterday, when Ellie and I walked along the edge of the Reservoir, the wind blew in from the west, rustling through the trees, telling stories of places far away never travelled. It whispered through the grasses, calling out names never heard. It cajoled and coaxed and called and laughed and howled and blew in on itself, depositing its stories in the welcoming arms of willows and aspen and poplar and first who stood through time, firmly rooted in the soils of life, their arms open and welcoming to the stories the wind had to tell.

I walked through the wind as Ellie pranced along the edge of the slope leading down to the gun-metal waters below where the wind rippled across their surface whipping the waves into whitecaps of possibilities.

It was mystical. Wild and free. The wind blew and I leaned into its stories swirling all around. Calling me. Calling me. Calling me to listen, to hear, to know, to observe, to witness. This life. This moment. This time right now.

This is your one and only life the wind called. This is your moment to be passionate, wild and free. Live it up!

Sometimes, in the wind and thundering clouds and darkened skies, letting my imagination go sets loose my thinking. And in its far-flung wanderings dreams arise of anything and everything possible in this world.

And when I came home, I started a new blog. It is one of my contributions to A Million Acts of Peace.

It is my response to my heart’s desire to be who I want to be in the world, to create what I want to see in the world. It is my blessing for how I wish to treat others, how I wish to re known and seen. It is my blessing for beauty, wonder and awe in a world of love, joy and peace.

It is a poetry place where I can, Make Peace Happen.

I’m not sure what inspired me to create another blog — I do know the power of writing a poem a day on one subject. I continue to write C.C. a poem a day and the power of that act resonates throughout my being and my life and our relationship.

So I know — there is power in our words, there is power in each creative act.

Marilee, over at Rushing to Yoga Foundation, wrote a blog that stirred my thinking — she told about a dream where she awoke with the statement,  “Just do what you are able to do in this moment.  And only do that which your heart guides you to do.” as her mantra.

I like that idea. I like the thought of doing that which my heart guides me to do — with compassion and the intent to create peace in my world.

And so… I’ve created a new blog. My intent is to write a poem a day on Peace. To create the possibility of peace through exploring what it means through poetry. I hope you drop over to visit. I’d love to see you there, to add your voice to poems of peace.

Everything we do makes a difference.

Had I decided to write poems of anger, it would have made a difference.

Had I chosen to write poems of grief, it would have made a difference.

Yesterday, I felt the wind tugging at my mind, pulling at my heart. I heard the wind’s stories of far-flung spaces and far-off places and in its voice, I heard my heart calling me to write poems of peace.

It is the difference I want to create in the world.

Namaste.

And…. to inspire you, and to share peace and compassion in the world, Maureen at Writing without Paper shares a metta meditation video that is simple and easy and beautiful to experience. And in its experience, peace and compassion will be created in your world.

Here is the video Maureen shares — she also has more information on Sylvia Boorstein and her teachings in her blog today.