For my brother. To die means to return to the general and eternal source, love.

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Tolstoy wrote, “Love is life.  All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.”

On this day, in 1997, my brother and his wife returned to love, the general and eternal source, in a fiery crash on a northern prairie road.

It was sudden, inexplicable, devastating and ever-lasting.

On the weekend, I watched a video my niece posted on her FB page from her wedding in Australia last month. She looked beautiful, radiant, happy. And In Love.

She was 17 when her parents were killed. They never saw her graduate high school, university. They never saw her struggling to make sense of an event that could never make sense. They never saw her get married.

But in her smile, in her laughter as she clapped her hands when she and her beloved were pronounced ‘husband and wife’, in her love of the music that accompanies their wedding video, I saw my brother’s smile, heard my brother’s laughter, felt his presence in the music and knew that while he wasn’t there in this realm, his love and the love of her mother, surrounded her on that day.

We come into this world in love and return to it to become, the general and eternal source, a particle of love.

My brother left this earthly realm 18 years ago today.

Once upon a time he taught me to ride a bike, to dance the twist, to listen to the beat and let my body bend and dip to its calling. And though he drove me crazy with his insistence I listen to this tune and then the next without ever letting more than a few bars of each song play, he taught me to listen deeply to the music, to find its beat and let it move me. He taught me to laugh at myself and to laugh, deep from my belly, at life’s peculiarities. He taught me the meaning of being generous, of giving from the heart and not judging. He taught me to never back down, to stand up for what I believe in and to always take care of others. He once dragged me from a disco when I was underage, telling me it was his job to keep me safe. And even though I was angry at him for interfering with my rebellious night out, I loved him for his care. I loved him for believing he could keep me safe and then doing whatever he could to make it happen.

My brother wasn’t perfect. He was however, just like all of us, perfectly perfect in all his human imperfections.

For in all his many facets, there is one thing about my brother that could never be avoided, never be denied, never be destroyed. He loved.

Deeply. Completely. Totally. Unreservedly.

He loved.

Life. Laughter. Music. Having fun. He loved his friends and family, his mother and father, his sisters and above all, his wife and two daughters.

My brother and his wife passed away in a fiery crash 18 years ago today.

In the fiery remains of that crash, the love they carried, the love they were, the love they are remains today in the crystal clear truth of their becoming part of the general and eternal source, a particle of love.

Loving you George and Ros on this day, and every day.

Namaste.

Racing against time: are we there yet?

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He rushes onto the C-train, his backpack slung off one arm, a travel mug in one hand, a slice of toast wrapped in paper towel in the other. He stands, both feet planted firmly on the train platform, balancing himself as it lurches forward.

He’s in a rush. To get to school. Gotta eat on the run.

She races towards the doors of he C-train, sticks her arm in between the about to close doors and slips through the crack. Leaning against a glass divider, she pulls out her mirror and begins to apply her make-up.

She’s in a rush. To work. To a meeting. Somewhere. Gotta get prettied up on the run.

He dashes across the C-train tracks as the light is turning from flashing amber to red. Down the avenue, a train is coming closer. It blasts its horn to encourage the man racing across the tracks to get out of the way. He ignores it.

He’s in a rush. Somewhere. Gotta beat the train.

I see it everywhere. People rushing, racing to catch, the train, the light, time.

And I look at my life and wonder, where do I do it too?

And I laugh. Even though it’s not really all that funny.

Some mornings, especially those where I’m driving myself to work and not taking the C-train, I get in my car, to-go cup in the cup holder, cut up slices of an apple in a baggie on the seat beside me. I munch and sip as I drive into the city center and see other drivers munching and sipping all along my route.

We are a hurry up and get there, get ‘er done, let’s get going, times a’wastin’ kind of town.

In my awareness, I am reminded to slow down and breathe. To put thought into each moment, to savour each breath, enjoy the here and now.

In my awareness, I commit to honouring time passing with my presence firmly planted in the here and now.

Namaste.

On Tuesday, the Calgary Homeless Foundation where I work, honoured recipients of the Arthur R. Smith Awards.

The amazing Bandi, photographer extraordinaire, took some wonderful photos of the people at the event. Here’s one of my very favourites.

Sharyn, Louise, Wendy

Sharyn, Louise, Wendy

 

What a gift each breath is.

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I was walking through a dark passageway. No lights. Trees shrouding one side of the lane which passed between two buildings.

It was a shortcut. One I’d taken many times from the visitor parking to my girlfriends condo.

This night, I had just dropped my freshly turned 18 year old daughter and some friends at the bar to carry on their birthday celebrations. I drove her car back to my girlfriend’s where I was staying while in the city and took the shortcut I knew well.

I wasn’t expecting trouble. I wasn’t expecting a figure to leap up from the darkness of the trees. To appear  like a ghost rising up from the shadows.

And there he was. A dark figure calling my name.

For one instance, I froze. I froze and felt fear vibrating throughout my body.

And then I screamed and ran.

I did not stop. I did not respond.

I screamed and ran.

And I kept screaming until I reached my girlfriend’s who, on this night thankfully, had not locked the front door.

I burst into her home, locked the door and she called the police.

And I collapsed.

Later, her next door neighbour would tell me how she could hear my cries through the walls. How my wailing, gut-wrenching sobs broke her heart. How she wanted to cry with me and hold me and rock with me.

I have not thought of that night in a long while. Yet, last night, as I left the office and waited for the elevator, it came back to me. It arrived, unbidden, with the opening of the elevator doors and for a moment, a fissure of fear entered and I wondered if there was a dark figure waiting on the elevator.

It was empty. As was the main lobby of our building.

And I smiled. And breathed deeply. And stepped out into the early evening light.

Spring has arrived early and the air still held vestiges of the day’s warmth.

I was on my way to meet my beloved, C.C., at a restaurant for dinner.

I had nothing to fear.

It was only my mind playing tricks on me.

In the passing of the fear though, I was left with thoughts of my deep-seated tears that flowed that night. I was left with the feeling that those tears, those tears that tore out of my gut and hurled themselves into space were vastly, deeply healing.

And I am reminded of the poem I shared on Monday. Rain, like the sun, are necessary for growth.

Perhaps it is that tears are not grounded in the pain, but are rather, the pain’s release. Tears released my heart to beat freely.

Perhaps it is that tears are necessary to rid our bodies of painful memories, to turn sorrow into wisdom, wounds into joy.

Perhaps, my tears that night 10 years ago were a right of passage to flowing joyfully in love today.

I know it is so.

I do not think of that night often. And when I do, I think not of the man who rose out of the bushes to try to capture me once again in his weave of lies and deceit and hold me prisoner to his abuse. I think instead of the power of my voice to cry out against abuse and rise up above the pain to sing my song of freedom today.

Smiling, I stepped out into the spring night and drove off into the sunset to meet my beloved.

What a gift each breath is when filled with love.

 

When I get clear, the path to well-being is clear

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Not everything that is faced can be changed;
but nothing can be changed until it is faced.

~ James Baldwin ~

I am on a diet. Yup. The wedding looms and I stepped onto the scale and scared myself! How did I let 10 pounds creep back on?

But wait! Maybe they didn’t creep on. Excess pounds are sneaky little devils. Maybe they just sort of snuck in while I was sleeping and attached themselves to my body in the dark of night with the stealth of barnacles clinging to a whale.

Oh right, Not everything that is faced can be changed; but nothing can be changed until it is faced.

Time to face the truth. They didn’t sneak in during the night and they’re not some seaworld crustacean clinging to my flesh.

They are self created examples of me not paying attention. They are the result of me not balancing what I was eating with how much energy I was expending. When food in is greater than energy out, weight adds up to greater than what I want, need, is healthy for me or even desirable.

Oh, and then there’s the fact that I might have been, ok, no ‘might have been’ about it, I was not eating what was healthy, nurturing and good for me. I was all out into junk!

In times of stress, or when I’m tired, I am more apt to think the things that are not good for me are perfect. They call to me, inveigling their way into my lesser goodness-self, shadowing my inner wisdom with thoughts of, “it’s ok. you’re tired. You’ve worked so hard. You deserve a break. Worry about it tomorrow. Right now, you need to focus on the task at hand and not think about what’s good for you. Why beat yourself up for not eating healthily? Why not let yourself have a little give and take?”

Yea. Right.

The give and take becomes more giving in to the unhealthy and taking on the pounds and inches!

Just to be clear. I am not beating myself up about 10 extra pounds.

What I am doing is getting clear and focused on what I want. And going public with my belief I deserve only the best.

When I get clear on what I want, the path to what I want is clear and less becomes doing more of what I want in my life.

I want to be healthy. I want to feel healthy. I want to feel energized, excited about everyday. I want to wake up every morning feeling like this truly is the best day of my life to live well and live fully in the rapture of now.

That means finding value in all things.

It means being truly committed to living my best life yet. It means focusing on what I can change, and letting the things I can’t change go.

I can’t change the fact I allowed myself to indulge in bad behaviour for the past couple of months or so.

Just as I can’t change the past, I can’t change the fact I am 10 pounds heavier today because I quit doing the things I know create balance and harmony in my being present in this world everyday.

What I can change is what happens now. What I do next.

It means, I can change my focus on what happened, and turn to what I can do, now.

That means, loving myself completely and doing the things I know nurture and nourish me into well-being. It means loving me as I am present today and moving with grace and ease into eating well, exercising, and meditating — All three of those very important foundational elements of my daily routine have been missing from my daily routine for awhile.

Time to….

Begin again.

Always begin again.

Namaste.

 

Let nature nurture your heart

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Art Journal Entry March 8, 2015

Art Journal Entry
March 8, 2015

Like the sun and rain water the flowers
nurturing them to grow into a beautiful garden
We need joy and pain to find our wings
and blossom into the beauty of our hearts.

Laugh
Cry
Dance
Be Bold

Be joyful in all kinds of weather
and let nature nourish your heart
into a beautiful garden full of love.

 

A woman’s nature is to gather and create.

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women's circleWe gathered in my studio, seven women intent on creating things that needed to be created for my wedding day just six weeks away.

We chatted and laughed and munched on munchies and sipped wine and water and shared stories of crafting exploits from long ago.

“I don’t do enough of this anymore,”one woman said.

“I know. I don’t either,” another chimed in. “I must do more.”

And we laughed and created and shared some more.

By the time we were done, we had 22 vases glittered up for centrepieces, (they are each one unique and gorgeous) 80 crinoline flowers ready to top the ‘party favour’ honey jars, and the workings for me to keep creating giant crinoline flowers to line the aisle C.C. and I will be walking down on April 25th.

As we worked I was reminded of stories of women’s sewing bees and canning fests. Of women gathered around the well, sharing the happenings of their lives, sharing tips and how to’s, parenting woes and children’s accomplishments, aches and pains, joys and sorrows. In their sharing, they connected, made meaning and gave meaning to the world around them. In their connections, they built community.

On Saturday, six women created a community with me in my studio. They were there to help me create beauty for my wedding day.

I am grateful.

It seems fitting on this weekend where International Women’s Day was yesterday, that we gathered to create just as women have always gathered to create throughout the ages.

It is our nature.

Gathering and creating. Sharing and connecting.

Thank you Jackie, Wendy, Ursula, Jane, Keri, and Tamara. You made light of the work and added light to my day just as you are adding light, laughter and love to my wedding — and thank you Jackie for coming over yesterday to help some more!  My list is getting shorter as the days are counting down!

 

Our health care system works when you need it.

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As I turned onto Crowchild Trail going south, an ambulance, lights flashing, siren blaring, passed me on the other side of the freeway going north.

I wondered if it was C.C. Were they taking him to the Foothills Hospital on the north side of the river? Should I get off at the next exit and go north? Why wouldn’t they go to the Rockyview, a less than 10 minute drive from our house? At rushhour, traffic is always a slow crawl going over the river to the north side of the city. At least the ambulance could drive in the bus lane.

He hadn’t called me yet to tell me where they were taking him. All I knew was that 10 minutes before he’d called, short of breath and told me he was thinking of calling an ambulance.

“Do it!” I’d exclaimed, hanging up the phone and tossing everything into my bag as I made a hurried exit from the office.

I decided not to follow the ambulance and stick to my plan. Home first. If he hadn’t called, maybe they were still there.

Five minutes later, I drove down our street  and saw the ambulance still in front of our house.

I found C.C. with two EMS techs inside it.

“We’re just trying to get him set-up so we can take him to the Rockyview,”  one of the techs told me as his partner regulated the drip from the IV they’d inserted into his arm.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep calm. I didn’t want to cause C.C. any more distress than I knew he was already in. If I was wild and anxious, he’d feel like he needed to comfort me. That wasn’t part of my plan.

“We did an EKG. Heart’s good,” he said. “Sounds like pneumonia.”

And it is.

And now he’s home on bed rest, taking steroids and inhalers and focussing on getting better.

Originally, they were going to keep him in hospital for a couple of days but, because he responded well to the steroid, they’d let him come home. “You’ll get better faster,” one of the nurses said.

That’s my plan. Keep him resting. Keep him quiet. Keep him focussed only on his well-being.

I am grateful.

There are so many people who spend their time criticizing our health care system. Wait-times too long. Staff shortages. General incompetency.

Not my experience.

While we were at the Emergency, C.C. was surrounded by caring, competent and knowledgeable staff. The only time he had to wait was when they wheeled his bed over to the X-ray department and the porter didn’t turn up to bring him back to his cubicle in the Emerg.

C.C., tired of lying all alone in a corridor, got out of bed and started pushing the bed himself. Two techs found him, wobbly and short of breath, and brought him back to his cubicle. “We decided we’d bring him back ourselves,” they told me as they locked the bed into place before wishing him well and leaving.

They didn’t criticize the porters. They didn’t comment on poor care. They simply stepped in and got the job done as they were going off on a break. That late at night, there aren’t as many porters on duty. Perhaps they were all busy in other areas. Porters are not critical care. It didn’t compromise his health — though getting up and pushing it himself might have!

It was a long night and now he is on the mend.

I am grateful.

I’m also grateful for my sister Jackie. She’s the neighbour everyone wants. As soon as she heard C.C. was laid up, she was at our front door, delivering chicken noodle soup, buns and books to read. C.C. and her husband JT share a love of spy/murder mystery novels. C.C.’s all set. 3 new books, yummy food and the flowers I’d bought for the bedroom to cheer him up.

That’s teamwork!

Our health care system may have political and structural issues, but on the ground, at the front lines where people are in distress and needing help. They are on duty, giving their best to save lives and doing whatever it takes to make people better. And that’s what makes a difference.

Namaste.

Thank you Dr. Rogers and all the team at the Emergency at Rockyview and the EMS team. You shine!

I heart home: ending homelessness

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ihearthome

In her opening remarks, the Honourable Teresa Woo-Paw, MLA for Calgary-Northern Hills and Associate Minister of International and Intergovernmental Relations, identified three words that are deadly to social change.

Can’t. Never. Impossible.

Ending homelessness deserves better than our negativity.

It deserves our best.

Those three words need to be changed, to reframed, be transformed to ensure we never lose sight of our goal of ending homelessness. It’s important for everyone.

Yesterday, 450 people came together to hear and talk and explore our best.

Yesterday, when Calgary’s Updated Plan to End Homelessness was launched, 450 people stood up and said, count me in.

We can do this.

We will always hold the vision, together.

When we work together, everything is possible.

At the launch, we shared the ‘what’ that community identified to make it happen through a year and a half of consultations and over 800 comments from community on what they saw, believed, knew needed to be done.

Diana Krecsy, President and CEO of the Calgary Homeless Foundation, the backbone agency charged with ensuring the Plan continues to move forward and realize its vision, stated in her review of how we got here to this moment today, “In 2008 we believed in the vision. In 2011 we understood a lot more about homelessness in Calgary than we had when we began. Today, we know. We know what’s working and what’s not. And we know we have to do this together, as a community.”

In 2008 (when the plan was launched) there wasn’t a lot of coordination between agencies, or a lot of information sharing. In fact, there was no shared database of who’s who in the system of care, who was receiving service from what agency and where the duplications existed. Today, there is a common information system (Homeless Management Information System). There is coordination and collaboration throughout the system of care.

In 2011, there was a deep understanding of the complexities of homelessness and the need for supports when housing someone directly from the streets. And, there was a deeper understanding of what it was going to take to get the job done.

In 2015, everyone knows it can be done — as long as we work together. As long as we share the vision. As long as we each do our part to make it happen. Not just those working in the sector, but every Calgarian along with government on all levels, faith groups, community associations, individual Calgarians. Everyone.

Yesterday, we presented the Updated Plan and what still needs to be done to end homelessness.

Now, it’s time to get down to the ‘how’.

How am I going to contribute?

How am I going to make a difference?

How am I going to add my voice to the vision of ending homelessness?

There are hundreds of ways each of us can contribute. Whether we live in Calgary or another city somewhere in Canada or anywhere in the world, we can, and we must, do whatever it takes to ensure we remove the less out of homeless so that everyone can find their way home.

As part of the launch, we introduced the idea of “I Heart Home”. In the case of Calgary, “I heart home YYC”. But it could be any centre, any town, anywhere.

No one can argue with home. The value of having one. The need of knowing you’ve got one to come home to. The desire to ensure your children have one. The desire to help your neighbours have one too.

In launching the Updated Plan, we embedded our collective need to understand what home means to each of us at the centre of our work.

So, here’s your invitation. Watch the video, I Heart Home YYC, and, take a video/photo of you, calling out, I heart home because…. and add your voice. And then, share on your social media platforms. Twitter. Instagram. Youtube. Blog..

You’ve be making a difference and you’ll be joining the movement.  Thank you!

ihearthome

The Great Big Summit — ending homelessness

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Tomorrow is The Great Big Summit.

If you’re in Calgary and area please, come, join us and help us fulfill on the vision of ending homelessness in our city. Everything is possible when we work together.

For more info:  http://calgaryhomeless.com/get-involved/events/

There is no cost to attend. There is a cost to everyone if we don’t do this.

The Bird of Time is on the wing

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It’s official.

I’m tired.  🙂

Yesterday, AG, my communications team-mate mentioned that he wasn’t sure if it was all the prep work on the Summit next Tuesday, but he sure wasn’t sleeping very well.

I laughed.

Neither am I, I replied.

My mind, full of details not to be forgotten, ideas germinating and sparking new thoughts on how best to present the Updated Plan to End Homelessness to ignite collective impact, doesn’t want to turn off.

Which means, like AG, short bursts of sleep interrupted by wakefulness streaming with ideas.

This morning, as I lay in bed considering the thought of getting up, my critter snuck in and whispered, “You’re too tired to get up. Sleep awhile more. Day has not yet broken.”

But it had. Light slipped through the open spaces between the slats of the blinds, I could see the outline of shapes in our bedroom. There was light out there and it was calling me to rise and shine.

It was time to get up. In fact, it was past my normal time of getting up.

And the critter hissed, “You’re too tired. Don’t do it.”

Swat!

“Ouch!” he exclaimed at the suddenness of my gesture to stomp him out. “You hit me!”

“And I’ll hit you again,” I told him, my voice steeled with determination. “I am getting up. I am not going to let the thought of how tired I am keep me from leaping into my day and setting the world on fire!”

So there.

Take that you pesky critter!

And he lay silently in a sobbing mass, soaking in a pool of self-pity.

Yup. Definitely tired.

But not down.

There is still much to be done and I am later than normal in getting to it!

Gotta run!

The day has begun and there’s adventure afoot.

Sure, I am tired but AG and I have agreed next Wednesday is a day for total, complete rest. Neither he nor I will cross the threshold of the office.

Until then, mission not so impossible is waiting to be turned into the possibility of every Calgarian standing up and stating, unequivocally, “Count me in. I want to do my part to end homelessness in Calgary. I will….”

And then they will state the thing or things they are willing to do to be part of getting it done.

From supporting the idea of affordable housing in their community, to writing letters to the government to ensure funding for essential social programs is not cut to volunteering or donating, every Calgarian has a role to play.

Our job is to ignite their passion to create a Calgary that is great for everyone.

And just thinking about it revs me up and excites me to get to into my day!

Gotta go.

There’s lots to do and to quote my father whose copy of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, I treasure, “The bird of time is on the wing and the bird has but a little way to flutter.”

Namaste.