Confronting the dragon within

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Years ago, when I was released from a relationship that was killing me, I felt lost, frightened, confused and alone. I had awoken with 72 cents in my pocket, a few clothes in a suitcase and my trusty Golden Retriever Ellie who had journeyed through the last harrowing two years of that relationship beside me.

I didn’t know what to do to find peace of mind and heart so, I prayed.

As a child, prayer had been a big part of my life. My mother, a devout Catholic, would make us four children kneel beside her every Friday evening in the living room of our home, no matter where in the world it was, and pray the Rosary. On Saturdays, my middle sister and I would go to the church with her to freshen up the flowers on the altar, and we would pray.

I was sometimes irreverent. Sometimes impatient, sometimes resentful of having to take time out from my play to pray. Always though, no matter what was going on around or within me, when I bowed my head and closed my eyes, clasped my child’s hands together in front of my heart and whispered the words of the Hail Mary, or the Our Father that began each decade of the Rosary, I felt a calmness descend and embrace me in its sacred warmth.

As an adult, prayer did not play much part in my life. In fact, for years, when my mother would say, “I’ll pray for you,” I felt a visceral reaction, a gut response of, “Don’t bother me with your faith and belief in prayer,” sizzle in my veins.

I realize today that my angry responses to her entreaties to pray for me had nothing to do with prayer, and everything to do with unresolved issues from childhood. I’m happy to say that today, I welcome my mother’s prayers, appreciating them for what they represent, a statement of her love and care for me.

Prayer also represents a powerful connection to the Divine.

On that first night after the police walked in and released me from an abusive relationship and I prayed, I wasn’t praying for anything in specific other than to drown out the pounding in my brain and hammering of fear within my heart. It worked.

I have used prayer intermittently over the years, often chanting in meditation or, on nights when sleep evades me, whispering the ancient words of the Hail Mary to allow peace to enter my mind and open the portals to sleep.

Prayer is a direct path into the sacred. A spiritual portal that connects me to the Divine, bringing me peace and calm. It soothes my soul.

I must confess though that when I say or type the word ‘pray’ or ‘prayer’, I feel a fissure of nervousness, a tiny worry of ‘what will other’s think’ scamper through my mind.

Will people think I’m trying to be all holy or devout? Will they think I’m getting all Catholic or religious on them?

If I were to write of Buddha, or Zen, there would be less mind-chatter tripping me up. Which means, I still have unresolved issues around faith and God and my thinking around what is spiritual and what is religious and what really does prayer do? I imagine the sleeping dragon within me is getting set to fire up my resistance to facing what is real and powerful and true to my heart.

So, I’ve decided to go on an exploration of prayer. To simply let my heart and soul and mind flow with ancient words of prayers written long ago and, with a group and the guidance of Andrew Harvey, explore the mysteries that prayer makes available, and the inner power and energy that it builds and sustains in birthing the divine human within.

The adventure begins tonight when the Igniting The Flame of Prayer course begins online.

I am excited!

And a wee bit nervous. I will be immersed in the holy adventure and, I will be confronting the dragon within.

And so, I breathe and I pray for peace and courage to embrace me.

 

Walking on ice

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Wordcloud created by Tagxedo (www.tagxedo.com)

Wordcloud created by Tagxedo (www.tagxedo.com)

I made the wordcloud of the words that appear most frequently on my blog. (Thank you Tagxedo)

I was surprised to see that ‘breath’ is the most frequently used word on my blog. It didn’t surprise me to see that heart and love are used pretty often too!

It’s all about the heart.

Our hearts send more messages to our brains every day than the brain sends to the heart. (source)

It’s important to know this because we think what we think is what is real. Yet, if we stop to listen to our hearts, we’ll the real answer is beating quietly beneath the thoughts pounding wildly to keep our fears at bay. We think the rapid beating of our hearts is all about fear, but it’s not. Backed up by our thinking, our hearts beat faster in a desperate attempt to get our attention. But, we’re too busy listening to our minds telling us to run, hide, lie, cheat, deceive, freeze and every other thing we do to avoid the things we fear the most, pain, loneliness, rejection, abandonment, looking stupid, being ‘wrong’, being shamed, being shunned…

On Sunday, I walked along the frozen river. Above, the sky was a cerulean blanket of clear sky sailing into infinity. Below, the snow covered river lay still, it’s capacity to move freely held tightly in winter’s icy grip.

Around me, the air was crisp and cold. Inside me, my heart beat freely. My mind wanted to scare me with its worries about how solid was the ice, especially when occasionally, the icy surface of the snow-covered river would crunch beneath my footsteps.

My mind screamed, “Get off the ice!”  My heart knew the truth. There was nothing to fear.

And so I kept walking until the shoreline on the other side of the river called out to me to cross over.

Again, my mind chattered away about the insecurity of the ice.

I took a long slow breath, calmed my thinking and crossed the river.

My mind wanted me to believe the ice would crack and I would fall into the frigid waters flowing deep below the frozen surface of the river.

My heart wanted me to experience the beauty and wonder of walking amidst the open spaces. Of feeling the cold crisp air against my cheeks. Of hearing nothing but the silence of the river valley. It wanted me to visit the site where in July, we carefully placed two heart rocks in the woods along the river bank to honour the wonder pooch. And, just as Ellie once helped me walk fearlessly in the sunshine, my heart wanted me to conquer my irrational fears and flow into and with the serenity surrounding me.

I chose to flow freely with the beauty of the day and let my fears rest quietly in my mind.

They were only thoughts and thoughts can be changed.

Namaste.

Grow only love.

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Art Journal Entry Jan 3

Art Journal Entry Jan 3

Ann over at The Year of Living Non-Judgmentally, shares her morning mantra today and invites visitors to share theirs.

I shared what I painted as a page in my art journal on the weekend.

Also today, Leigh at Not Just Sassy on the Inside, invites people to share their thoughts and feeling on where peace begins for them. It is part of a challenge she has initiated for the month of January called, Journey2Peace. Throughout the month, Leigh will be posing questions, challenges, ideas on peace and inviting people to chime in with their thoughts and ideas.

And that is the beauty of this world of blogging. I read someone else’s thoughts and ideas, answer the invitations they post to share and am reminded of what is important for me, or, as in the case of both Ann’s and Leigh’s posts today, am given an opportunity to see where I have gone off track or slipped in my commitment to live from my heart.

I got caught up in my ego on the weekend. I got immersed in my own circular thinking about how it is someone else’s fault that something went the way it went. Which, of course, means, if they’re to blame for how it went, then they’re also responsible for how I felt about how it went. In which case, I get to abdicate responsibility for my thoughts, responses, actions, etc.

Abdicating my self-efficacy does not create peace in my heart, my mind and world. It only creates victimhood, self-pity and discord inside and outside of me. And while I might find it comforting to picture myself as riding high on one of the four horses of the apocalypse in self-righteous defense of my position, holding onto my inner dialogue as to why they’re wrong/I’m right only stirs up trouble in my heart. I can’t hold out arms of love when I’m holding my sword high in defense of my right to fight for peace of mind.

Peace of mind does not come from outside of me. It’s nexus is within me. I am its creator. I can also be its destroyer. I decide which path I choose. I decide which wolf I feed.

I gave succor to the wolf of self-pity, anger, blame and shame on the weekend.

It was of so human of me and, humbling. My response reminds me that it is a moment by moment choice I make to walk in peace, or not.

No one can make the choice for me. To create peace in my world I must be the peace I wish to create. I must  let go of playing in the mud of self-pity, blame and shame and tend to my garden in Love.

What about you? Where does peace begin for you? What are you watering your garden with today?

 

 

Letting go of control is impossible.

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FLOW Acrylic on canvas 12" x 16" ©2015 Louise Gallagher

FLOW
Acrylic on canvas
12″ x 16″
©2015 Louise Gallagher

For the past several years I have meditated on a word that acts as my ‘way-finding’ for the year.

Last year, the word that found me and rested with me throughout the year was, At Onement (atonement). The year before, Rejoice and before that Redemption.

This year, the word that found its way into my being present is, Flow.

I use the phrase, “found me” on purpose. I do not choose the word. The word chooses me. Left to my own devices, I’d probably choose something easier like ‘food’ or ‘fun’.

Allowing space for a word to find me is challenging. My mind wants to take control, to self-direct the process.

My heart knows better.

According to Wikipedia, the “positive psychology” definition of flow is, “Flow, also known as Zone, is the mental state of operation in which a person performing an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and enjoyment in the process of the activity.”

For me, Flow represents even more than just being in the moment, fully engaged. It means giving up my resistance, releasing my grasping for control and surrendering myself to what is, without fearing what might be if I am not dictating the way it must become.

I can be a despot sometimes. Yup. Just ask C.C. or my daughters. Sometimes, I like it all my way.

Funny thing about having it all my way… When it’s all my way there’s no room for anyone else’s way, or even for the Universe to turn up and have its way.

Being in ‘flow’ means, accepting I can let go of control and live in the in possibility of miracles shining all around. For my eyes and heart to be open to seeing miracles all around, I have to be willing to let go of holding the reins so tightly there’s no room for the light to get in.

Even in two short days of living with this word, I can feel the dissonance that happens when my mind chatter wants to overwhelm my heartbeat because it fears the quiet steady drumming of possibility at my door.

No way, it says, snapping at the synapses in my brain. You will not give up control. No. No. Never!

Be strong of heart, my wisdom voice whispers. Control is an illusion. You are not giving up anything.

Oh.

I hadn’t thought of that.

Could it be that my fear of letting go of control is really all about letting go of something that isn’t real?

Hmmm.

In focussing on letting go of control do I simply have to let go of holding onto the impossible?

Can it be so simple?

I’ve got another 363 days to find out.

 

 

Every year I create a painting to provide me a visual stimulus for my new word for the year. I created the painting above using a new technique I was trying out for the first time yesterday.  It was fun and fascinating and fabulously rewarding to allow the paint to flow!

I am also linking this post to Michelle W.’s Friday prompt at The Daily Post  — the invitation was to share a photo of something that speaks to NEW for you. This photo and painting are new for me this year!

 

2014: The Year of At Onement

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At Onement Mixed Media

At Onement
Mixed Media

It was a year to celebrate. To rejoice. To give thanks. It was, as Dicken’s would say,  the best, and the worst, of times. There were moments that truly took my breath away and moments that broke my heart wide open.

A broken heart is an open heart and an open heart is a loving heart.

I am grateful for every moment of 2014. Grateful for the highs and the lows. Grateful for the sorrow and grief, and the love and laughter. I am grateful for the losses and the gains, the missing of loved ones and the welcoming of new friends, new experiences, new ideas.

I am grateful.

There were many turning points in 2014. Many moments that stopped me in my tracks and gave me pause to contemplate the wonder and majesty of life, our human condition, our shared experience here on earth.

There was, the loss of Ellie the Wonder Pooch. The grief of her passing and the celebration of her life. There were friends who gathered to bid her adieu and friends who wrote to wish her well on her final journey. And there was the moment I sat with her in the silence of her final breath and said good-bye. My heart was heavy in that moment and still, there was gratitude for this loving creature who taught me so much about compassion and loving unconditionally and who saw me through the darkest times of my life and walked with me into the light.

There was war and terrorist attacks around the world and drones flying and righteous speeches calling men, women and children to take up arms and heartfelt pleas to put down arms of destruction and hold out arms filled with nothing but love for one another. Here on our Canadian soil the horror of radicalism drove home the need to honor and respect each other where we stand and not give into the call to kill one another in the name of whatever God we worship.

There were outbreaks of disease sweeping through nations and killing indiscriminately.

There were rising oil prices and plummeting oil prices. There were losses and gains. Winners and losers.

And always, there was love giving rise to hope. Making room for possibility. Creating space for better in all our hearts, minds and souls.

2014 was the year of atonement, or as it was said in Old English, At Onement, my word for the year. Meditating on At Onement lead me to oneness, within myself and with the world around me and the Universe. In my focus on atonement, I felt the deepness of gratitude stirring my soul and the breath of forgiveness easing my heart. At Onement drew me closer to understanding the oneness of my human condition and my connection to all humankind. To our connection, our sameness and differences and the beauty in each of our unique places on earth.

2014 drew me closer to my capacity to be the dreamer and the architect of my dreams.

2014 gave me wings and the belief in my ability to spread them wide and soar.

And, 2014 gave me room to grow, to inhale, exhale and take in all the beauty and wonder and awe around me and know, I am safe no matter where I am in the world when I stand in my truth holding onto nothing but my capacity to Love fearlessly, completely, unconditionally.

2014 taught me to let go of fear that I will never be enough, or never have enough, or never know enough.

2014 taught me to celebrate the small moments and the large. It taught me to see the beauty in every heart and make space for the sacred in every moment.

2014 was a continuation of the years before and the years to come where I learn to be my human self in all its complexities, all its wonder and awe, and all its beauty and the beast living in harmony within this flesh and bone that carry me through each day.

2014 was my year to step with confidence onto centre stage of my own life and say, without hesitation or fear or false modesty, ‘This is where I belong. This is where I must be to live this one, wild and precious life for all I’m worth.”

The earth has turned 365 orbits around the sun and now, 2015 awaits.

It too will be a year for learning. A year for growing. A year for stepping into the true magnificence of my human condition where I know unequivocally, that we are all here on this earth to shine, to beam and to love one another with all we’ve got to give. And in our loving unconditionally, we will receive the greatest gift of all — our hearts filled with nothing but Love. No hatred. No condemnation. No fear. Just Love.

As 2015 approaches, I surrender holding onto what was to breathe into this moment where all there is is everything I need to live fearlessly, completely free.

May each of you know the wonder and majesty of your true selves shining brightly for all the world to see, there is only one way for humankind to live together, only one way for us to create peace and tolerance and acceptance. And that way is Love.

Wishing each and every one of you a peaceful and loving New Year.

Namaste.

Waiting for Christmas

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DSCF0639It is that holy time of year again. A time when here in the northern hemisphere, we await the coming of the light after the long dark nights of winter. It is a time when the Christian world awaits with expectant breath the coming of a child. A time when fir trees are adorned with glistening lights and carolers sing out to passers-by and children smile at snow falling and presents piling up under the tree. It is a time to celebrate the sacred nature of our world, the miracle of life, the waning of darkness soon to become light.

This is a time for renewal, for pause, for welcoming in the light. It is a time to make room for gifts, the gift of life, the gift of love, peace, hope and joy.

It is a time to celebrate the human condition in all its manifestations here on earth. It is a time to celebrate the coming into being – of not just the Christ child, but of all of us.

This is a time of awakening. A time to make room for the spiritual aspects of our nature, the holy essence of our being human. It is a time to slow down, to live in the moment, to appreciate the small things of life unfolding in wonder every day. From the delicate light and warmth of a candle flame to the quiet stillness of the darkness just before the dawn, this is a time to prepare, to make ready, to enter into the anticipation of life coming into being and of light following the darkness.

In this time of waiting and awakening, I invite you to take a deep breath in. In. Out. Breathe. Let your eyes gently close. Let your jaw relax, the muscles of your face soften.

Breathe in. Feel the coolness of the air as it enters your body.

Breathe out. Feel the warmth of your breath as you exhale. Feel the air upon your skin, the softness of its caress.

Feel the world around you, growing quiet, settle into peacefulness and breathe.

Breathe.

Imagine you are standing beneath a star lit sky high upon a hill. Around you the world spreads out in the darkness. Above you a blanket of stars glitter in the velvety dark sky.

Imagine you are all alone yet connected to the millions of others who stand as you do, alone upon a hill beneath the star littered blanket of night.

Imagine, as you breathe in, they breathe out.

Imagine, as you breathe out, they breathe in.

Imagine you are all one breath, connected through this one air you share and breathe into, connected to the millions of others breathing with you. This air that nourishes your body, is the air that nourishes theirs.

And as you stand, breathing as one, you spread your arms wide, raise your face to the moon and stars above and whisper,

“I am here. I am willing. Let the night and the moon and the stars give way to what is to come. I am waiting for the light. In my waiting I open my heart to the beauty and the wonder unfolding all around me. I open my arms to receive the gifts of this season of peace, hope, love and joy. I am waiting.”

We are all waiting.

Together.

Let your body feel the peace, hope, love and joy of this wondrous time of year flowing all around and within you. Feel your heart soften, your breath deepen, your mind open wide.

Sit and breathe in the beauty all around, open your heart and mind and soul and body to receive the gifts of the Universe shimmering in the light of a million stars showering your heart in Love.

Breathe. And be one in joyous expectation of the coming of the light.

In this time of waiting, let Love be your companion. Let Love light your way. Let peace be your path from darkness into light.

Now  Breathe. Quietly.

And in this moment of quiet, let a song arise within your heart and you wait patiently for the sun to return, for a child to be born.

Let us each be the light in the darkness awakening for all the world to know peace, hope, love and joy.

Namaste

 
Expectant Silence  (An Advent Poem)

In expectant silence
the world awaits
the coming
of a child
heralding
a world
of peace
hope
love
and
joy.

In the quiet
of dawning light
I await
morning
streaming rose and gold
threads of glory
filling the sky
with the promise
of a new day
born in the darkness
of the night

silence descends
light enters

I feel
the breath of the Divine
rising up within me

awakening my soul
with fluttering wings
and with each breath

I become an oasis
of peace
hope
love
and
joy.

 

It’s a miracle!

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It is a miracle. A wonder. An incredible feat.

I never in a thousand years imagined it was possible. I never, ever thought we could do it! But it’s done. It’s here. It’s been made real.

C.C. and I are ready for Christmas. Early! As in, no spending until the wee hours of Christmas morning wrapping presents for under the tree. No Christmas Eve frantic dash through the mall searching for the perfect gift in stores bare of wares. And no artistic presentation of store bought cookies on a tray pretending they’re fresh from my very own kitchen.

We are done. Ready. Prepared.

Presents wrapped under the tree. Shopping completed. Cookies baked and lovingly nestled inside Christmas tins bought just for the occasion.

How could this have happened?

How has it come to be that we, the king and queen of last minute Christmas panic, are breathing easy and sipping eggnog by the tree with nary a heart skipping its beat or a hair laying out of place.

Preparation my friends. Preparation.

We made a list. Checked it twice. Divvied up the chores. Made a schedule and stuck to it.

Okay. So none of that is true. There was no list. No schedule of chores and definitely no sticking to a plan because, well, there was no plan.

Just blind luck and a bit of perspiration and a whole lot of inspiration.

Like, deciding to hit the downtown mall in the wee hours of Saturday morning before the crowds descended. That plan happened on Friday night while sharing dinner and laughter with a group of friends. “Have you finished your shopping?” someone asked and C.C. replied, “No. We’re going downtown to the mall tomorrow.” Thoughts of crowds and over-heating and standing in line with laden arms and short tempered people all around prompted me to say, “Yes, and we’re going to be there by nine.” Inspiration and desperation united! We were in and out by noon just as the hordes began to descend.

And we did decide that instead of going out one evening as planned, neither of us had the energy. So we decided to stay home and have a quiet evening together. C.C.’s suggestion of wrapping a couple of gifts turned into an evening spent wrapping and chatting and sipping on eggnog and discovering when it was all over that we were done. Finished. Completely out of more gifts to wrap.

And the baking? Well, I’ve always wanted to try making Lavender Shortbread and my essential oil kit includes Lavender and my step-daughter is Celiac and I wanted to ensure she had some treats and well if I’m making gluten free shortbread I’d best make non-gluten free too and the kitchen is messy anyway so let’s make a few dozen and suddenly, cookies made, tins filled and the aroma of fresh baking fills the house.

Which is why at 7pm last night, C.C. and I put up our feet and watched a movie together and didn’t worry about what’s left to be done. Because, there’s nothing, other than a few minor details and a dinner for 20 to prepare and bread to bake and…

Nope. Scratch that. It will all be as it will be. For now, we’re done.

Finished.

Complete.

Christmas can arrive any ‘ole day it likes and we’re ready!

Now that’s a cause for celebration.

But, here’s the challenge. I’m not used to be organized early. I’m not accustomed to finding myself space to relax and breathe into this most holy and mystical time of the year.

What a gift.

To simply have space to expand into the sacred nature of this time of year when the Christian world awaits the birth of a child who symbolizes the rising of peace, hope, love and joy for all humankind.

Believer or non-believer, we are a world in waiting. Waiting for a time when peace, hope, love and joy shimmers in the light of possibility dawning that to create the world we want to live in, we must be the change we want to see in the world.

May we all be that which we want for ourselves, our families, communities, country, world. May we all be that which we pray will descend upon our hearts and the hearths all around us. May we all become the light that leads the way for all the world to discover the gift of one another is not found in arms carrying weapons, but in hearts filled with understanding and acceptance for our differences.

May we all know peace, hope, love and joy.

What’s in your backpack?

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The other day, while riding the C-train home from downtown, a woman was upset at having to move all the way down the aisle to the open area by the doors to let another passenger get through the aisle. It didn’t seem to connect for her that the reason she had to move was because her backpack was blocking the way of the woman getting off the train.

When the woman with the backpack moved out of the way, she ended up standing in front of me. I smiled at her and made eye contact. She looked at me and complained. “This is awful,” she said. “I hate the C-train.”

“It’s better than driving,” I replied.

“Well, I don’t have that option,” she said. “I don’t have a car.”

“Then it’s a good thing there’s public transit,” I said.

“Harrumph,” she replied. “I’m just glad I don’t have to do this everyday. I’m just trying to get to the mall. If I had to do this everyday I’m sure I’d end up killing someone.”

“Do you really mean that?” I asked.

She looked surprised at my question. “Of course not. But this is awful. I hate people.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied and smiled again. “There’s a lot of us in the world.”

She paused. Looked down and then looked back at me. I was intentionally keeping my eyes soft, my heart open, my presence accepting of where she was at.

“I don’t hate all people,” she said. “It’s just crowds like this scare me.”

“I’m not fond of crowds either,” I told her. “But, there’s always someone to talk to in a crowd.”

She harrumphed again and we came to her stop. She departed without saying good-bye. Off to complete her mission of getting to the mall.

I’ve thought about that woman a lot since our encounter.

She is me. I am her. We are all eachother.

I thought about her discomfort at being asked to move so another passenger could get past and her lack of awareness that the cause of the other passenger asking her to move was the backpack on her back blocking the path.

And I wondered about her comment of ‘killing someone’ if she had to ride the C-train everyday.

I wondered about what she was carrying around in her backpack to cause such a visceral reaction to the human condition. What thoughts and ideas and limiting beliefs did she pack with her where ever she went to keep her safe, not realizing that it was what she was carrying that was creating her discomfort?

We all have backpacks we carry around. They’re not always visible but they’re always there. Thoughts and ideas that keep us from seeing, if we were to let go of thinking we are locked in by our thoughts or trapped by the crowds around us, we could be free to simply be present in our world without fear of the people around us, or without telling a stranger on a C-train that if you had to ride public transit everyday, you’d kill someone.

I’m sure she didn’t mean it, yet I wonder where else in her life she goes around feeling uncomfortable and wishing she could just get rid of all the people around her so she doesn’t have to feel so uncomfortable.

And I wonder, if her discomfort is caused by never having been told she is valued. She is loved. She is wanted in this world. Of always feeling like she doesn’t belong, or that there is no safe place for her to be in the world.

She sits with me this woman. She is a mirror. An image of what is true for each of us when we carry around our backpacks of woes and silent limitations, never looking to see if there’s something in there we should be unpacking if only to create space for us to be at peace with the world around us.