Last fall, when I created my art studio in our basement, I made a commitment to write in my art journal about what I learned and experienced with every session in the studio.

So, to get the confessions out-of-the-way first — I haven’t been consistent with writing everyday in my art journal. In fact, you could say I’ve failed miserably in my goal to write every time because since beginning in the studio on September 23rd, I’ve written 10 times in my art journal.

There is value in when I did, and didn’t, write. When I did write, I captured my feelings, thinkings, ideas, impressions. As I read back through what I wrote, there are ideas worth exploring, deepening, expanding upon. When I didn’t write, I find a great reminder about how easy it is to get ‘out of the moment’. Sitting down to write brings me into ‘the now’. Not writing lets me off the hook of my accountability.

There is value in all things and sometimes, the greater lesson is learned when I don’t do the things I’ve committed to do. In my not doing, I see where I trip myself up, keep myself playing small, or allow myself to be unaccountable for my journey. In the not doing, I have made a conscious decision to not be present. Which, given that this is my year of daring boldly, means I need to turn up, pay attention, speak (write) my truth and stay unattached to the outcome in all things I do. Getting conscious in all things is essential to my living life outside the lines.

In the past, when I have missed out on keeping my commitments with myself I have beat myself up, called myself down, let myself wallow in self-defeating mind-chatter that does not celebrate, nurture or support me.It doesn’t allow much room to grow and evolve and learn and create freely either!

The outcome of my not doing was always the same — I didn’t do. I felt badly about myself. I quit.

To not be attached to the outcome of my doing, and not doing, means to let go of self-defeating games. It means I must release my habit of self-denigration and set myself free to accept what is, as it is. I must learn from what is present now, and begin again from this place to be true to myself in all things I do, all ways I am.

What is true is that since last fall, I have worked in the studio more days than I’ve written in my art journal. The ratio of ‘days in studio/writing’ is irrelevant. The number is simply a fact I use to deflect the truth — I did not keep my commitment with myself to write in my art journal after every session in the studio. Whether or not I had anything worth writing, whether or not I felt inspired to write, whether or not I felt like it, is not the issue. The commitment I’ve made is with myself. The teaching is about discipline, keeping my commitments with myself and accepting that the objective isn’t ‘good writing’, it’s writing. Period. On the path the way appears.

What is true today is that yesterday I worked in the studio and wrote in my art journal. I will work in the studio again today and I will write again today. That is my intention and my commitment. To begin again. To dare boldly to keep my word with myself and stay true to my desire to celebrate life on the wild side of being my creative expression releasing itself to create a world of wonder and awe all around me. A world in which I bravely live the truth of who I am, the Divine expression of amazing grace.

Namaste.

Dare I say it? To live bravely I must dare boldly to express myself with love, joy and integrity in all my creations.

It happens every year. A page of the calendar turns and a New Year begins and in its arrival, we look back to find the markers for where we went off track, stayed the course or simply held still throughout the year. We make a list of things we want to do, achieve, create in the year to come and set off with good intentions.

Two years ago, I began this blog with the intention of writing about something that made a difference everyday in my life. It could be something I did or someone else did, some one I met or heard about, or something I learned that touched me and made me different, or made the world a better place.

Last year I focused on rejoicing in the difference and, as you will see by this year’s title, I’ve switched it up again and moved from focussing on difference making to the art of boldly living on the brave side of life outside the box.

Life is the art of daring to colour outside the lines. To get outside my comfort zone, I must dare boldly.  I must set myself free of self-judgments and limited thinking that would hold me captive to playing it small and safe. To live bravely I must dare to leap beyond the comfort of the familiar to take the road less travelled.

There is no box outside my comfort zone. No four walls that define me, no pre-conceived condition for the journey. There is only the daring to find my unique path, my authentic creative expression.

There is no box.

No matter how fast I may hold to the notion that there is comfort in the familiar, to dare boldly I must seek my answers in the realm of the unknown. I must breathe into the possible without constraining my thinking by the impossible, without limiting my actions by the known.

I will be challenged by this. I will be shaken up, twisted and contorted. It is not comfortable outside the invisible markers of ‘the box’. This is no man’s land. Unknown territory. In my fear of stepping out, of leaping blindly, I will want to turn back, to grasp onto or not let go of what I know. I will seek the comfort of the familiar to hide my fear the magic and wonder that can happen when I am free-styling through life.

These things I know about myself. These things I know I will attempt to do to keep myself from moving too far away from the guideposts of my well-worn path. It’s not that this path is awful, or bad, or even unsuitable. It’s just, I know that in playing it safe within ‘the box’ of my qualified life, I hold myself back from fearless creative expression.

And I want to express myself fearlessly and fiercely. And I can’t do that inside a box. I can’t express myself fully inside the lines.

These are things I know.

What I don’t know is what is possible when I let go of ‘the known’ to allow magic and wonder to be my guides. What I can’t see is what can appear when I stop looking for what I recognize and make room for intuition to grace my every moment.

I’m on a journey.

Like explorers of old I don’t have a map but I am well-equipped for this journey. There are my markers I know I must hold true to — my values and principles that I cannot compromise on. I know that no matter what, no matter where I go, I must commit acts of grace in everyday living. Small acts that contribute to creating a kinder, more caring, loving and compassionate world where ever I go. I know that I must live with integrity, speak my truth, be present and stay unattached to the outcome. I know that I must create better. Be fair and do no harm.

And I know that I must be loving and kind.

I am excited. I hope you will join me as I travel this road unknown. I hope that in our journeying together we will discover what it means to Dare boldly and live bravely.

And in the process, I hope that together, we’ll find the difference we make creates a world we all want to live in.

Blessings.

At Onement
36 x 36″ Mixed Media

It is time.

Time to let go. Time to renew.

I begin again.

On this the birthplace of a new year, the last day of 2013 begins to slip away as I prepare to let go of what was to allow what is calling out to be birthed in this New Year awakening.

It is time.

Time to travel inward. Time to evoke Spirit to awaken my senses to what is being birthed in the dawning of one year from the next.

I began with a journey into spirit this morning. The invitation came through my beautiful blogger friend and guide, Leigh at Not Just Sassy on the Inside, who invited me to encounter my Spirit Ally through the teaching’s at Karen Chrappa’s blog, A Structure for Spirit.  Using Karen’s voice as my guide, and following the call of the drums, I journeyed deep into my inner realms to encounter my Spirit Ally who has been there always, throughout time, waiting for me to arrive at where I have always been.

In the safe and courageous space Karen creates,  I met my Spirit Ally, The Eagle. She stood at the edge of a cavern deep underground and when she opened her wings wide,  the underside of her wings were brilliant jewels glittering like precious gems in every colour of the rainbow. I breathed in her beauty and a voice called out from deep within me, “We are all One. Beautiful creations of light, born to be magnificent in every dimension.”

The journey Karen leads you on takes just half an hour of real time, but in time’s passing, eternity opens up and I felt connected, in all ways, to life and living and stepping beyond the pale of every day into the wild side of creation.

It was an appropriate and fitting ending leading to the beginning of another year.

It is an excellent beginning of a year of At Onement. A year waiting to be explored from that place within me where I seek to know what it means, feels and is to live at one with all creation. At one with myself. With the world around me. With every human. With every creature, big and small.

At Onement embodies serenity. Calm. Joy. Awareness. It speaks to me of being conscious of the yin and yang of my existence. The light and dark of my being, human, alive, present, here. It speaks to being conscious of every footstep I take upon this planet earth, every breath I inhale, every word I speak, everything I do that has the possibility to destroy or create life in harmony with all.

I first wrote of this word that was calling to me on my blog in early December.  It’s entry into my consciousness began with resistance. A desire to push it back. Away.

In its common usage today, At onement is one word. Atonement. But originally, it was two, At Onement.

To be One with God. To be One with all Creation. To be One with All, requires repentance and forgiveness. It requires a giving up of ego states that would have us believe we are not enough, to give in to the pure magnificence of our human essence that lives at the core of all creation.

It is a good word for me to carry throughout the year. A good word to guide me, to enrich me, to direct me and deepen within me. I struggle with forgiveness. I struggle with acknowledging my imperfections, my mistakes, weaknesses, foibles. I struggle with maintaining the facade of ‘perfection’ that separates me from accepting my human perfection in all my imperfect doings.

And in its light I know, my intent is not to be perfect. It is to be magnificently human.

As 2013 draws to a close, I feel the opening of possibility. I sense the wonder of a new day dawning, of new birth, new life, new creation.

It is time to let go, to give up control, to surrender and fall, In Love.

A new year begins at the edge of the passing of the old and in  its awakening, I surrender my resistance. Free, I step into 2014 awakened to the possibilities of what can be when I set my intention to be at one with all creation in all I think, see, feel and create.

I am excited. With my Spirit Ally to guide and protect me, I begin again.

Happy New Year!

Happy Me!

Happy You!

Happy All!

“Pondi, je me souviens.”

I’ve never looked my age. Haven’t really acted it either. Maybe that’s why 60 is feeling odd. I’m letting my age get into my head and become… ‘discombobulating’.

What is 60? What does it look like? What does it mean to be 60? How does it feel?

Well, I know it feels like this, this body I’m in, but that doesn’t feel old, it just feels… less young. You know, like skiing the moguls at ultra-fast speed just isn’t something I’m going to jump out of bed and do today – but that’s not because my body’s older. It’s mostly because having whipped through the bumps with nary a thought about stopping a few too many times, I’ve also got a knee that’s minus its ACL which means lateral movement without a brace does not induce a state of stability — and a brace does not make whipping through the bumps all that easy. And just to be clear, I incurred that injury when I was younger, so it obviously had nothing to do with age.

So, 60 isn’t necessarily physical, though I do have a thumb that is sore and stiff — making opening jars and holding heavy things more challenging than in the past. But I figure that’s why I have C.C. around, he can do those things for me because he doesn’t have a genetic pre-disposition to arthritis.

And 60 isn’t emotional. I don’t ‘feel’ older, even though I know I am. I just feel like me — which is a little bit silly, a little bit smart, a little bit crazy, a little bit serious, a little bit caring and compassionate and giving and thoughtful and kind and considerate and funny and nice and really good with words but not so good with numbers and really good with clutter and not that good with order and really good with cooking and not that good with cleaning and… you get the picture. I’m a lot of things and no matter what I am, I am  a whole bunch creative.

And that’s what the 60’s bring to me. A willingness, a desire, a compelling need to be and feel and allow my creative self to breathe and express itself however it wants.

Which is why, since putting away the last of the Christmas dinner dishes, I have been spending my time painting.

Who cares that the house needs vaccuming or the toilet needs scrubbing? There’s a canvas waiting for a gentle touch, a fierce expression, a daub of colour, a splash of texture and a whole bunch of paint.

Perhaps that will be my motto for the 60s. “I’d rather be painting.”

Perhaps, ridding myself of the past decades has left room for more creativity to arise. Perhaps, the artist in me is finding her voice, and her power, and is now fearlessly letting it fly free!

Now that would be exciting. And liberating.

To be fearless in the expression of my creative.

My friend Ursula says it’s something about me she admires. How fearlessly I attack the canvas, letting whatever appears happen.

I like that.

To allow. To let go. To let be. To let become.

To stop stopping myself mid brush-stroke, to stop over-thinking each step of the way and to simply allow and let become what is appearing.

It isn’t a practice as much as an allowing. An opening up to intuition. A giving into my creative voice finding its true expression through everything I do and create.

I’m not into stick-handling it. I’m into allowing it to find its own voice and have its way with me.

So here’s to letting go of trying to figure out what a number means. Here’s to finding my value in the fearless expression of all that I am when I allow myself to fall truly, madly, deeply in love with all that I become when I set myself free to create and express myself in the rapture of this moment right now.

Here’s to fearless creation.

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The painting is the story of my mother’s remembrances of her homeland, Pondicherry, India, where she was born. A former French colony, she once described “Pondi” to me as “Shangri-la”. In her memories, it is a perfect place. Our memories can be deceiving, hence, the one black butterfly on the tree trunk and the black birdcage. Often, memory traps us into believing what was remains true today. What we remember is not the past as it was, but as we wished it to appear.

Gratitude.

“They found me sleeping in a park,” he says. “This place [The Madison] saved my life.”

Grace.

“We’re a community here now,” he tells me in response to his own question of what is different this Christmas over last at The Madison. I agree.

Kinship.

“I’ve got two friends coming over to share in the turkey I’ve got cooking in my oven,” he emphasizes the ‘my’ as he explains why he won’t be sharing Christmas dinner in the common room. “Haven’t been able to do that in way too many years.”

Generosity.

“I wasn’t sure who was doing the cranberry sauce, so I made my special homemade sauce just in case,” he smiles and hands me a tub of his very own cranberry sauce. “I used to make this at home. A long time ago. It felt good to be able to do it for the guys today.”

Regrets.

“I lost ten years of my life to the streets. A decade. That’s a lot of time at my age. I’ll never get them back.”

Hope.

“I talked to my brother on the coast,” says one man. He still lives in a shelter. His friend had invited him to spend Christmas at The Madison. “Nothing worse than spending Christmas day in a shelter,” he tells me. “It reminds you of everything you’ve lost. But I’ve been in touch with my brother. He’s talking about bringing me out to the coast. He wants to help me. I should be gone by spring.”

Peace.

“I don’t have to worry about dying on the streets no more,” he says. “I’ve got a home.”

Love.

“I love you guys,” he says to the men sitting around the table in the common room. “You’re my family now.”

This was Christmas dinner at The Madison. A time of laughter, of teasing one another, of sharing. A time to enjoy companionship, turkey, homemade cranberry sauce, and, dare I say it, store bought pie. My doing. I apologized to the men and told them how I’d forgotten about dessert and by the time I remembered, I didn’t have time to create something original. They laughed and teased me and told me I was fired. Last time they invited me to cook their Christmas dinner, they joked.

I felt like I was surrounded by brothers, young and old. A family. A community. I felt welcomed. Included. Special. I felt like I belonged. 

And that welcome extended to the two volunteers who came down to help out. There was no hesitancy in the welcome. No caution. This is our home. You are welcome, they said. And then, proceeded to include them in the joking and ribbing, the sparring and jostling. Randy brought buns. Gail mashed potatoes. Jane made candied yams that Al delivered, Ursula sent sweet potato pie and Charles made a special trip to deliver the beets and pear dish as well as the brussels sprouts I’d forgotten at home. I’d gone down earlier in the morning to stuff the turkey and put it in the oven, and Pat, the Alpha House staff on duty, carefully basted it throughout the day. (Alpha House operates the 16 unit Madison building which is owned by the Calgary Homeless Foundation to provide housing and supports to formerly homeless veterans.)

When I got back at 1, the turkey was turning golden brown, the aroma of it cooking permeating the air. One of the residents helped me set the table, another helped with organizing the dishes of food I’d brought. Slowly, the men trickled in.

Before we could do dinner though, they had to give gifts to two children of a single mom who sometimes comes in to help out. The mother, her sister, and her parents arrived with the two young children in tow and the men excitedly gave them their gifts. Together, they’d collected $150 for the kid’s presents. The look of joy on their faces as they watched the kids open their gifts spoke of Christmases past, of family ties, some long broken, some yet to be restored. Their faces and rapt attention spoke of hope and love and joy.

And then, the children handed out baskets filled with Christmas stocking goodies to each of the men and there were tears and laughter and sadness and joy all mixed in together. Pat, the staff member, handed out the gifts the Christmas WishList volunteers had bought for all the men and I watched their faces glow in the memory of what it feels like to be given a special gift on Christmas morning. Of being remembered, of feeling important, of knowing someone cared enough to buy you that special something you’d wanted.

I shared my Christmas with the veterans at The Madison. It is the second year I’ve been blessed with this gift of community. The second year I’ve been surrounded by those who are willing to contribute to making it possible, and those who open their homes, and hearts to my presence.

“Thank you for allowing me into your Christmas day,” I told the men at the end of the meal. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be here. Thank you for teasing me and making me feel welcome. Thank you. You help make my Christmas very, very special.”

Thank you to everyone who contributed to Christmas at The Madison this year. To Veronica, Andrena, Wendy, Sharyn, RoseMary, Brandi, Andrew, Kathy, John, Rosemarie, Dan, Jackie, Jim, Liseanne, Sinead, Randy, Anne, Charles, Al, Jane, Tamara, Ursula, Gail and many many more as well as the staff at Alpha House.

You are many and you are mighty. You have made an enormous difference. You have touched many hearts.

You are the spirit of Christmas.

So this is Christmas.

The tree is adorned with ornaments filled with memories of Christmases past and tiny lights shimmer in the cold winter’s night. The house is all dressed up in glitter and glam and boughs and bows festoon every doorway.

Cookies bake in the oven. Christmas cakes rest in a bed of rum and special treats are tucked away in tins awaiting family and other guests who will arrive throughout the holidays. And children’s voices laugh and sing and cry out in anticipation of finding out what Santa left them under the tree.

So this is Christmas.

On city streets, in malls and stores, people scurry about searching for that perfect thing to buy Great Aunt Lucy and brother Dan while clerks vie for shopper’s favour in the hopes that this holiday season cash registers will chime and coffers will be filled with enough coin to last the year.

So this is Christmas.

And in the mad rush to wrap one more gift, tie one more bow, set one more place at the table, there is little time to reflect upon tidings of comfort and joy. There is little space to remember shepherds in their fields that night long ago who kept watch as angels voices raised on high, Rejoice! Rejoice! O’ Israel. To thee shall come Immanuel.

Seventeenth century German mystic Angelus Silesius wrote: ““I must be the Virgin and give birth to God.”

At the heart of Christian theology and tradition is the birth of a child in a manger over 2,000 years ago. It is his birth that gives rise to our Christmas celebrations today. It is his birth that dwells in the tender and delicate flesh of not just those who share the Christian faith but of all humanity. It is a birth that inspires each of us, no matter our faith, to ‘give birth to God’ in every breath, every act, every moment, of our lives.

Over 2,000 years ago a child was born unto Mary and Joseph. And all the world was watching. It was a much less connected world back then. There was no satellite, no Internet, no instant messaging to herald the great tidings.

There was only a husband and his wife finding shelter in a manger. There were only shepherds in a field and three Magi on the road invited to behold the wondrous tidings of the coming of Christ the King of whom angels sang.

And there was Herod. A paranoid King who feared the birth of a child would change his world forever more. And in his fury he fought to protect all that he had and lost sight of all that was possible if he were to let go of fear and surrender unto Love.

For this is the story of Christmas. A story of Love. Of hope and joy and possibility. It is a story that resonates today as it did over 2,000 years ago when to bring forth a child with such promise shook the very foundation of society and unleashed the fury of a king who killed innocents to protect his world and keep it safe.

For this is the story of Christmas. In a time when sorrow and sadness cry out in headline news, when strangers kill one another and innocents fall from bullets flying through city streets, and children die of drug overdoses and armies fight over territories long disputed and bombs fall on sleeping victims and we fear for the safety of those we love in disaster-struck lands and worry about the cost of food and sky-rocketing rents and whether we’ll have a job next year or next week or whether there’s enough food, enough time, enough medicine to heal the ones we love, this is the story of Christmas.

The story of birth. Of promise. Of possibility. A story of Love. Love for one another. Love for oneself. A story of birthing that which we have in limitless capacity, to give, to hold onto, to share, to be every moment of every day. To fill every breath we take.

In these times when sorrow and loss threaten to overcome peace, let us take refuge in the light. Let us breathe hope into our dreams of peace and joy descending upon the world. Let us be courageous. Let us reach out to one another in peace. Let us each be the light for all to see the path to living together in a world of peace, hope, love and joy is through giving birth to God through Love for one another with every breath we take.

No matter your faith, no matter the pew in which you kneel or the God to whom you pray, or the festivities in which you partake, may comfort and joy embrace you and may you be inspired to live illuminated in the light of Love every season of the year.

Christmas at The Madison

The Christmas WishList

It is Christmas once again and once again, Christmas at the Madison is in full swing. The concert is over. The gift list is done. Now all that needs to happen is for the gifts to be bought, the dinner to be made and the celebrations to begin.

And that’s where you can come in. Each year, to support the veterans living at The Madison, a housing first initiative owned by the Calgary Homeless Foundation and operated by Alpha House society, we buy gifts for each of the 15 residents to provide them that special something they wish for this Christmas.

Thank you to Liseanne and Sinead who spent an evening at The Madison interviewing the residents to find out their wishes. Your willingness to share your time and talents are very appreciated.

The following are from the Interview Sheets each tenant was invited to fill out. Of the 15 residents, two didn’t want to fill out a form as they already have more than they need. They will be given a gift card to ensure they receive something under the tree on Christmas Day. There are still 3 forms to be uploaded.

If you choose to purchase a present for someone, please email me to let me know — louise[at]louisegallagher.ca  — and I will give you the instructions/address for the Madison — we ask that you please drop off the gifts to the Madison, or to my house, whichever is most convenient. I can be reached via email at: louise[at]louisegallagher.ca I’ll send you a confirmation email with the details once you let me know if you are participating and for whom you are purchasing a gift. If a gift has already been sponsored — thank you to the sponsoree — it will be noted in RED.

Thank you. I appreciate your generosity of spirit and your willingness to make a difference in the life of a stranger.

Blessings to you and a very merry and joyous Christmas!

The Madison Christmas WishList

Doug D.

Doug was born in Ontario where he served with the military. When he left the forces he became a tractor trailer driver and moved to Alberta for work. He has a 26 year old son who still lives in Ontario and dreams of being able to drive tractor trailer again and live independently. He’s working towards his goal and is grateful that he is no longer homeless and living in a shelter.

Doug likes to read suspense novels, listen to country music and watch shows such as Sons of Anarchy.

WISHLIST: Doug suffers from severe back pain and would like an Electric Heating Pad. SPONSORED. Thank you!

Peter P.

Born in Kirklandlake, Ontar, Peter is the second of 3 children. A former Navy man, Peter came to calgary in 2011 where he stayed at the Mustard Seed for several months until somone at Veterans Affairs told him about The Madison. He will be forever grateful.

Peter is grateful for the second chance living at The Madison represents for him. He likes that the building has controlled access and 24/7 staffing and that his apartment is newly renovated. He likes his home.

Peter likes to read historical non-fiction and fiction and has a yen for folk and country music and watching sports and documentaries on TV.

WISHLIST: Peter loves to read and would really appreciate a gift card to Chapters. Sponsored. Thank you.

Bruce H.

For some of the residents, providing details on their lives is daunting. One of the challenges of homelessness is often that your life is not your own — and thus when given a chance, it can take a long time before someone opens up. We are grateful Bruce chose to fill in what his Christmas wishes are.

WISHLIST: Bruce needs a new white shirt (L) and men’s underwear (Briefs – M) — or surprise him with anything! Sponsored. Thank you!

Patrick TC.

Patrick was a rifleman in the army and moved to Calgary from Victoria looking for a new way of life. A father of 4 children, Patrick is also an avid Flames fan. For Patrick, the biggest thing about the Madison that brings him joy is that — he has freedom in his own place because… it’s home.

Patrick likes to watch television and will reading anything — if it looks good, but he’s a country man when it comes to music.

WISHLIST: A pair of size 9 running shoes + a 2014 calendar. SPONSORED. Thank you!

Gerry Z.

At 70 Gerry is the oldest resident at The Madison. When asked what brought him to The Madison, he replied that they found him living in a park. What he likes msot about the Madison is that he is amongst people who care, it’s clean and very lovely.

He likes to read and listen to… you guessed it… country music and watch sports and movies on TV.

WISHLIST: He’s an XL in shirts, and would really like an Electric Mixer or a set of Double Sheets for his bed. Sponsored. Thank you!

James C.

James C. was born and raised in Alberta and has spent most of his life here, including when he was in the military. He likes living at the Madison as it’s much better than a shelter and because, it’s home. His plan is to volunteer somewhere after Christmas because he’d like to give back.

Like the others, his favourite music is country, but none of that new stuff. He’s a purist with the likes of George Straight. He doesn’t read much but he does like to watch Clint Eastwood movies.

WISHLIST: A pair of warm gloves SPONSORED. Thank you!  or a military style combat jacket in XL.

Blaine S.

Calgary born Blaine’s military career lead him to service in Cyprus, Lebanon and Germany. A heart attack lead him into homelessness where he stayed at the DI until coming to live at the Madison in May. He’s been teaching some of the guys how to play piano and is learning how to take care of himself again and how to be part of the community at the Madison. For Blaine, being amongst veterans is important because he feels he can connect better with those who understand his experiences.

Blaine isn’t a big reader but he’s definitely an accomplished musician able to play seven instruments including the sax, bagpipes, piano and flute. When he’s not playing an instrument he’s a movie fanatic, in particular horror and zombie films.

WISHLIST: Slow Cooker (a 1 – 3 serving one would be totally awesome!)  SPONSORED — Thank you!

Don K.

Don is one of 7 children born in Calgary. His journey to the Madison was initiated through Veterans Affairs, and he’s very grateful. He appreciates having his own place to live and that he gets to be the House Rep representing clients with staff of Alpha House.

Don likes old rock and watching sports on TV.

WISHLIST: A hat or scarf from the Boston Bruins + a 2014 Calendar. SPONSORED. Thank you!

I am searching for that place where creative resonance binds itself to the unfolding of every moment. I am searching for that place where my every moment is illuminated in the glow of my creative essence come alive in day-to-day living.

It is not just any space. It is a sacred space. A space of balance. Essence. Life.

It is a space where I know I am alive with love, joy, creativity flowing through my pores, flowing through my body.

It is a space where my every breath is drawn from the collective consciousness of our shared humanity.

It is a space where every breath resides deep within my creative core, illuminating every thought, word and deed with the essence of my being human and alive at this time, on this planet, right now.

There are moments when I feel it. When I know, I’m in it. In the zone. Touching the nirvana of every cell awakened to the brilliance of my being alive.

And then, it vanishes. Gets washed away by the busy-ness of one moment flowing into another with its laundry list of things to get done, places to go and duties to call upon. And in its disappearance, I am left in silent yearning for it to embrace me once again with the beauty and sacredness of its presence.

It is the ‘at onement’ I seek of living my life fully awakened in the rapture of now. Fully embodying my human essence, my creative nature, my magnificent self.

I am yearning to engage in a deeper emergence of my soul-filled life.

It is a yearning I have held in awe and wonder for a very long time. It is my soul calling me to step free of ‘being busy’. It is my heart calling me to let go of expectations and step full-heartedly into expressing, through every breath I take, the depth of my essence calling me to awaken into this creation, this life, this moment of knowing, this is my one and only life.

This is for each of us, our one and only life. For each one of us, a unique expression of all that we are, all that we are capable of, all that we are destined to create. We are each treasures beyond riches imaginable. Precious gems of life on earth.

What will we do with this one wild and precious life?

Shine!

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We weren’t able to get all the forms filled out for Christmas at the Madison. I will post them tomorrow morning, or later today if I get them soon enough.

Blessings and gratitude.