My heart is heavy today. My thoughts sluggish.

I have no words to make sense of what happened in Newtown, Connecticut. I have no words to ease the pain and sorrow, the grief and confusion and sadness.

And so I pray.

I pray that we come to our senses.

I pray that we let go of anger, hatred, fear, whatever it is that would drive a young man, anyone, to kill innocent children, to kill anyone. No matter their age, whatever it is that makes sense for someone to do that, I pray we find a way through it that does not further the anger, hatred, fear or whatever it is that would drive a young man, anyone, to kill innocent children, to kill anyone.

I pray  for our world so badly in need of healing. So desperately in want of peace. So hungry for love.

I pray for the lost lives, the children who died and their parents and families who are missing the one they love. I pray for the teachers, principal, the mother who died, the brother and father of this young man who walked into a school and did such a horrendous, incomprehensible thing. And I pray for this young man who did this, for he was lost. So incredibly, terrifyingly lost.

And in my prayers and grief, I recommit to do whatever it takes to create ripples of love, of kindness, caring, compassion. I recommit to being only that which I want to create in the world. And in my commitment, I vow to not let anger take hold. To not let hatred grow. To not let fear consume me. I vow to only be that which I want to create in the world; peace, hope, love and joy.

But first, to grieve. To let tears flow. To let sorrow weep. To let my heart beat in time with those for whom the pain and horror of this tragedy is real and all-consuming.

Namaste.

I am rooted in the place of opening myself up to miracles everyday. Grounded in my belief that Love is the answer. There is no need to question it.

I am full of hope, love, peace and joy. I am immersed in knowing I am the one I am waiting for. That within me I have the capacity to  be my best friend, my greatest companion, my own beloved.

And still I waver.

I stall and hesitate. I bend and quiver. I lean into darkness of the unknown, I stand back from the edge of knowing I must leap.

I become the dichotomy of my resistance to grace. My stubborn defiance of miracles happening all around.

I become that which I think. That which I do. That which I believe. I know better than to believe I know it all. I don’t know enough to do it all and sometimes I do less than I know.

I know who I want to be, who I am meant to be in this world of wonder, yet still I waver. Still I sometimes eat that thing I know I shouldn’t. Drink that extra glass of wine. Say that statement that does not become me. Do that  act that does not create more of what I want to see in the world.

I do the things I know I shouldn’t and berate myself for my doing. And then, I come full circle, back to that place of grace where I awaken to the light of hope, love, peace and joy shining in the darkness of morning breaking upon a distant horizon.

I seek perfection and know I must let go of being perfect.

I give into imperfection and know I must let go of my imperfections.

And then I remember. Ah yes. This is what it means to be human. This is what it means to be me.

Human in all my perfect imperfections. Human in all my defiance. In all my stubborn resistance. In all my being. I am human.

And in my humanness, I leap, and crawl. I defy gravity, I become mired in the muck of every step I take out of the darkness of the past, into this moment right now where I am present to this moment, right now.

I shine my light and then crawl under the blanket of my resistance to being my most brilliant self.

I am yin and yang. Light and dark. Open and closed. I am Beauty and the beast. I am me and you. I am. We are. Connected. Apart. Together. Alone.

We are. The human race, ever evolving. Ever expanding. Ever becoming that which we do not know. That which we seek. That which we know is the gift of this life we hold.

Together. Apart.

Breathing in. Breathing out.

This air I breathe in filled with the breath you let out.

This space I feel against my face once felt against your skin.

We are. Human. Divine. Miraculous. We are. Broken. Lost. Alone.

We are. The only one’s who can change this world in which we share our dreams, our hopes, our thoughts and deeds.

We are the ones  we have been waiting for. To make a difference. To make it alright. To change the world.

We are. Here. Right now. Waiting. To leap. To stand back. To run. To crawl. To speak up. To stay silent.

Whatever we do we are human beings sharing this one world, one planet, one place on earth where we stand, right now, doing whatever it takes to become that which we have always imagined.

We are human dreaming of that which we have never dreamed of, that which we hold as sacred or profane. That which we see as nothing more than a problem or a solution, an idea or unmindful, a possibility or impossible.

We are One World. One Planet. One People.

We are and in our being, we must always know, in our humanity there is all the room in the world for us to shine and become the light we are seeking in the dark.

Shine bright. Shine on. Shine!

It is something I hear a lot when I am talking about homelessness or the United Way or the Counselling Centre where I have been working on contract for the past six months — I didn’t know that. Or, I didn’t realize the agency does so much. Or, wow, that’s amazing.

And sometimes, I hear, the other side. Why should I care? Why can’t people just take care of it on their own? I do/did/have. It’s their own fault they’re homeless/broken/down and out. Nobody helped me when I was down/broken/hurting. Why can’t they just pull themselves up by the bootstraps and get over it and on with it? I did. Why can’t they?

It is always a tough question — why can’t they?

The simple answer is, because they can’t. If they could they wouldn’t be where they’re at, doing what they’re doing that is causing so much distress.

I can’t tell someone they need to care. They must care. They must ‘do something’. That’s not my vision. My role, as my Purpose Statement says,  is to “touch hearts and open minds to set spirits free.”

And I can’t do that if I am judging the people whose hearts and minds I am trying to touch. Opening minds doesn’t come with shutting the door on understanding different viewpoints. It comes through compassion, acceptance and respect of differing viewpoints — and then, being willing to explore the common ground between us so we can stand together and see the world around us from our human perspective of being connected, same but different — no matter our circumstances, no matter where in the world we stand.

And the best way I know to do that is to inspire others to explore with me that space where our judgements of one another, our belief in our rightness/their wrongness, our standing firmly on our side of the fence we built to keep ‘the other’ out, keep us apart, and separate from, our shared human condition.

It’s not our differences that keep us apart. It’s our belief in how those differences make one better than the other that separate us.

And when someone clings desperately to their point of view, my role is not to dislodge them or to shun them. It is to hold them compassionately in Love and understanding. To treat them with respect, no matter where they come from, no matter their circumstances, no matter where in the world they stand or how different their position is from mine.

I can only create a world of tolerance when I am accepting of other viewpoints and perspectives, knowing, there is no one way to achieve peace, no one path to joy or living in harmony. There are all ways, and all paths. They all form part of the picture. They are all part of how we do life, and death, on planet earth.

To end war I must accept war is how we, the human race, have chosen to be in this world. And in that acceptance, I make room for common ground to arise where we can all see that holding onto “I’m right. You’re wrong.” doesn’t make a world of difference I can live with. It only makes this space I’m in intolerable.

I don’t agree with war. Child abuse. Abuse of any kind. I don’t find poverty appealing. Mental illness healthy. Addictions life affirming.

And yet, I know that to stop it, to change what is apparent in our world of war and peace, abuse and kindness, poverty and abundance, sickness and well-being, I must do ‘the hard thing’, love ‘the other’ and all the sides of their equation, as if they were me. Because, who knows… Under the same circumstances, I too might do exactly what they are doing, be exactly the way they are being. And even if I didn’t, no matter my judgements, it is only when I quit shaming them, that room opens up for shame to let go of them. And in that vulnerable place where we drop all shame, miracles happen.

Namaste.

.

I was blessed on Monday night to have a few minutes before the concert to chat with John Langford, the guest speaker who was the inspiration for the creation of The Madison — a 15 unit apartment building to provide housing for homeless vets in Calgary.

John recently returned from a year-long deployment to Afghanistan where he consulted with the Afghan National Police in the restructuring of their police force. John spent last Christmas in Afghanistan. “It was different to spend it in a Muslim country,” he said.

There were no twinkling lights, no Christmas tree adorned with decorations and glitter. No carols playing, no sleigh bells ringing. There was just the company of the men and women of his unit, gathered together in a unique bond that is formed by those for whom service to country lead them far from home.

When I asked John for a memorable moment of the year-long deployment, he spoke about the times he spent with his family, about a solo trip to India and his wonder at the diversity and complexity of that nation.

And he spoke about fear.

It wasn’t the fear of bombs falling from the sky, or parked cars exploding — though those were real and always present.

It was the fear of the person next to you. The man serving your meal. The fellow Afghan instructor who has been ‘turned by the Taliban’, as John put it. It was the constant vigilance of never turning your back on your cohorts in the room, that was what caused the most fear. That was what caused the most anxiety.

John described how the Taliban encouraged “green on blue” killings. (Green being the Afghans, blue their western visitors.) How they coerced members of the Afghan police force, and those working in the camp, to do their bidding by threatening to kill their families. “And they did,” said John. “They killed their families if they didn’t do their bidding.”

These men enter the police force with good intention, John told me. They want to make a difference. They want to serve and protect, to hold the peace. And then, their peace of mind is shattered by the threats against which they have no defense.

What would you do?

And my heart cries for our fellow human beings.

What are we doing to our relations?

How do we stop killing one another when we cannot make peace at home?

I know I can’t stop the killing in Afghanistan. I know I cannot silence the guns in Syria or calm the masses in Egypt.

I know all of this and still I want to.

I want to reach out and embrace the world in arms of love that will forever quiet the fear and hatred that drives us to kill. I want to quiet the anger and separateness, the loathing and misunderstanding that compels us to harm one another.

I want to make peace.

Let peace begin with me.

It is advent. A time when we prepare our hearts and minds and souls for the coming of a child whose promise of peace, hope, love and joy has lived in the western world for over 2,000 years.

In evolutionary time, that is not much time.

And I wonder, what came first? War or peace.

And I think I know the answer.

There had to be peace for us to know the might of war. There had to be peace to know, war kills. Hope. Possibility. Dreams. Lives.

And that is what I shall carry into my world today. The knowing that I don’t have to ‘make love, not war’. Love already is. What I need to be at peace today, to create peace all around me, is to continually remember, Love. To move through my day, in all my words, deeds, thoughts and actions, in Love.

To not give war room to breathe, I must always move in Love.

I spoke with an amazing man on Monday night about his experiences in a world I do not understand. In his words, I understand a little better. And in that understanding, compassion grows. And in compassion, my heart expands. I cannot make peace through making war. Peace comes through a loving heart.

And in that conversation I realize that I cannot be a peace-maker when I say, “I do not understand.” Understanding is the foundation of compassion. Compassion is the catalyst for peace.

And so, my contribution today to creating peace in the world is to see through compassionate eyes all that is happening in the world so that I can better understand all that is going on in your world. To allow my heart to know your heart.  To step in and through and with Love, no matter the chaos, no matter the sorrow and strife. To acknowledge Love as my True North guiding me home to my heart where peace, hope, love and joy expand into the world around me in never-ending ripples of possibility.

It is done. Granny woke up. Shared a few insights, toyed with the boys in the audience and then, went back to sleep. Voices sang out. Laughter filled the hall. Clapping. Cheers. Ola’s and Bravos streamed through the air. John Langford, the inspiration behind The Madison shared his stories of Christmases far from home, Kathy Christiansen, Exec. Dir of Alpha House shared the meaning of the amazing work they are doing and the gathered guests of 35+ soaked in their words and felt their hearts and minds opening — not to mention their wallets too! In the end, this little event that began as just a thought for a house concert to support Christmas at the Madison raised close to $800. And we all had an amazing time.

It is done.

And I am grateful.

Grateful for the amazing artists who stood up and said, “Sure. I’ll play and sing. I’ll share my gifts to support such a worthy endeavour.”

Grateful to Kathy and the team at Alpha House for saying, “Sure. You do it, we’ll support you.” Which they did. They arranged for two residents of Madison House to come to the event and picked them up when it was over. They’ve also gone out and got the tree, organized with the residents and are all set for Liseanne, my youngest daughter, and the volunteers she’s brought together, to arrive Wednesday evening to decorate and put up Christmas throughout the building. They’ll also be interviewing the residents, asking them for their Christmas Wish which I’ll be putting up here in case anyone wants to participate.

Cameron, one of the residents who came to the concert,  asked at the beginning of the evening if he could share a few words of thanks at the end of the programme. The heartfelt gratitude of his words wove their way into the hearts of everyone there. There was magic in the air. In his thanks Cameron turned to John Langford, asked him to stand and told him, “You saved my life.” If there was a dry eye in the place, it wasn’t mine.

What was also so beautiful and touching about Cameron’s remarks was that he made sure he met each of the performers before the evening began and when he gave thanks, wove what they did into his words that spoke of the legacy of military service.

Michelle Warkentin and her puppet Granny brought Humour. Having a sense of humour is really important when you’re in the military, Cameron said and the audience laughed.

Felipe Paredes, whose Spanish guitar, sultry Latin looks and deep, rich baritone set every woman’s heart pounding, brought Strength, said Cameron. He spoke of the strength of Felipe’s voice and how military life requires strength, and a deep commitment to being of service. — and from my perspective, Felipe also represents spontaneity, and the ability to respond to the call of being of service without question. He only heard about the event on Sunday from my daughters’ friend Caitlin. When asked if he’d perform, he didn’t hesitate. And we are so grateful he did. He was amazing!

Alexis and James brought Passion, Cameron told the audience. And passion is vital if you are to be of service. Alexis’ voice also made him cry, (and that’s a good thing because tears are a sign of strength).

And Taylor and Luke, he finished off, brought it all together. Their amazing performance wrapped the whole event up in laughter, strength and passion.

I am so grateful.

For those who came and shared of their TIME. TALENTS. TREASURES.

Thank you.

Along with the performers there were all sorts of people pitching in to make it possible.

Andrea and the Calgary Homeless Foundation printed off the programs.

Kathy’s husband whipped up three trays of incredibly delicious and beautiful appetizers that were devoured, and what little was left went home with two of the young performers whose eyes lit up when they realized there was food to be had for the taking. (Young boys with big appetites grow up to be young men with big appetites!)

My friend Tamara “baked” a tray of scrumdillyicious crescent moon cookies — the few left also went home with the performers.

My daughter Liseanne sat at the front table greeting guests and collecting tickets and generally keeping tabs of all the goings on to ensure nothing and no one was left out.

C.C., my beloved, came early with me to the venue to help set up, racing off to pick-up water and change for the float, doing whatever it took to ensure the evening went smoothly. As did the incredible Howard Parsons, who along with his wonderful wife and my dear friend Kerry, gave us the space to hold the concert. Howard was there Sunday afternoon with me setting up chairs and arranging the venue and also came early to help hang cloth to drape a doorway and help out with whatever else needed doing.

David Thomas, a 19th Century preacher and publisher wrote, “Unselfish and noble actions are the most radiant pages in the biography of souls.” 

There were many radiant pages written on the beautiful souls of those who came and sang and shared their stories  and gifts and talents last night. My heart is full with gratitude and love.

Thank you.

Birthdays come and go. The tree is decorated. Lights surround the windows, Christmas ornaments grace the piano. Candles stand in glass containers waiting to be lit.

We laughed and shared a meal, or two. We danced and told stories and sang and sat together, family and friends, our lives woven together by this journey called life.

Day moved into night. Night into day. Time moves in an ever flowing stream of moments passing one by one. That moment has moved on. The next is upon us. And still we wait in this season of Advent for the One the world awaits, the One for whom angels sing on high. The One who will bring peace, hope, love and joy to all mankind.

The time is now. The time has come.

It’s already here. Already amongst us. Already is.

It is within us. Within each of us. Within all of us.

We are the one we’ve been waiting for. We are the one to remind ourselves of the divine essence of our birth, the essential magnificence of our human presence here on earth.

Let us wait no longer. Let us look to no other than ourselves for that which we seek, right here, right now. It is within us. It is here for us to give and receive. To create and to become.

Peace. Hope. Love and Joy.

Let us rejoice.

We were born magnificent. We were born children of God, of the Divine, of Allah, Jehovah, Buddha, Hare Krishna. We were born to live our humanity, our human journey. Not in toil and strife, but in the light of our magnificence.

It’s just we forgot.

Life. Happenings. Times unfolding. Things we’ve done. Things that have been done unto us. By us. For us. Things that have been done in the name of our mothers and fathers, in the name of others, in the name of peace, for the love of another, things that have hurt us, that have confused us and made us forget our birthright, they do not matter.

What matters most, is our remembering. Our claiming our brilliance. Right here. Right now.

What makes a difference isn’t what happened to us. What makes the difference is what we do, right now, right here to live our greatness. To express our brilliance, our light, our beauty.

That’s what will make a world of wonder. That’s what will create a world full of peace, hope, love and joy.

When we let go of remembering the hurts. When we let go of naming the past and all that happened to us, when we quit holding responsible all who did what they did to us as the reason for our being unhappy, dissatisfied, disgruntled with the way of our world today.

When we release ourselves from holding onto that which hurt us and those who abused our trust, our love, our body and soul, we create space for the beauty and the wonder of our humanity to awaken and set us free to live that which we have forgotten — our magnificence.

It is the second week of Advent.

We wait, in silent contemplation of the darkness, hoping for the light to return. For a child to be born.

It is here. He for whom we wait has always been amongst us.

To see it, to be witness to the sun rising, to know the Son who is coming, to know God, Allah, Jehovah, Hare Krishna, whatever the name of your faith, open your eyes and heart and mind to the amazing grace of your presence here on earth. Awaken to the stunning beauty of our shared human condition shining in the morning light.

Awaken and sing. Sing a song of joy. Dance a dance of jubilation. Pray a prayer of gratitude. Get ready for your soul’s calling. Open yourself up to peace, hope, love and joy and let your light shine.

The world needs you.

The world needs each of us to be the light of peace, hope, love and joy.

Namaste.

Heroes, heroes everywhere, and oh what a gift to celebrate them!

I had an email this morning from an amazing man. Sgt. John Langford is a member of the Calgary Police Service who continually inspires me. When I worked at the homeless shelter, John tirelessly fought to create a safe and welcoming place for homeless veterans. It’s because of John’s commitment to serving homeless Calgarians, and in particular vets, that The Madison, the apartment building I wrote about on Thursday, was created. A former military man, John worked with the Calgary Homeless Foundation and the Government of Canada,  to ensure housing was made available for those who once served their country and then lost their way on the streets of Calgary. John has just returned from a year’s deployment as a special advisor in Afghanistan and wrote to me this morning to ask how could he help with Christmas at the Madison.

John Langford is a hero.

I only just recently came across her blog, and am so grateful I did. Lisa Bonchek Adams is an amazing and courageous woman. Five years ago she was diagnosed with breast cancer. In October of this year she was told the cancer had metastasized to her bones. And Lisa fights on. She writes on her blog, Lisa Bonchek Adams, about “metastatic breast cancer, grief & loss, life and family” — and she touches hearts, opens minds and inspires all who read her to get real and be their most amazing self, to treasure every moment, to be vulnerable and open, to be present in the moment savouring every ounce of life you’re given.

Lisa Bonchek Adams is a hero.

Lisa Rosenberg is one of those people who never ceases to amaze me. Even though we only know each other in the ‘blogosphere’, when I needed support, Lisa was there with comforting words, sage advice and a willingness to simply hear me out.  Lisa and her family got through Superstorm Sandy only to lose their home to a fire in its aftermath. And still, Lisa writes and connects, shares her amazing spirit and awesome attitude so that others can be inspired and know, they are not alone. Lisa is a hero — and when you go visit her blog, make sure you scroll back through the posts to find out how this remarkable woman has kept herself and her family intact through a very difficult situation.

Lisa Rosenberg is a hero — as are all the people of Montclair who so willingly and lovingly helped Lisa and her family cope with the storm and the loss of their home.

All three of today’s heroes are examples of the power of community to make a difference. Yes, we can ‘do it alone’, but when we are supported by community, when we join together to help someone, we make an enormous difference, not just in that one situation, but in the world, for our willingness to be the caring hands that support someone in need, ripples out into the world and creates a wave of caring that doesn’t end.

All those who pitch in to help a friend, to take a meal to someone in distress, to offer a kind word, a caring hand are heroes.

And, because I like to share beauty and wonder, I am pasting in an amazingly beautiful video/song I found this week online.

Love is the New Religion (The Spiritual Conspiracy) -Brian Piergrossi

I grew up in a military household. My father was in the Air Force, which, much to his dismay became the Armed Forces with all three elements united under one banner. “If God had wanted the Army to fly, they would have painted the sky brown,” he liked to grumble. But then, my father liked to grumble. It was his way. Nothing vicious. But he did hold a lot of opinions about a lot of things — and always, he fought for the underdog, the disenfranchised, the suffering. It was his way.

This Christmas, I am honouring my father with Christmas at the Madison.

The Madison is an apartment building here in the city that provides housing for 15 formerly homeless veterans. Owned by the Calgary Homeless Foundation and operated by AlphaHouse, The Madison is a safe haven for those vets who have lost their way and are searching for direction, a way off the street, a way back to pride, dignity, independence. At The Madison, they’ve found it.

The plan is to create Christmas on December 25th. To prepare the Christmas meal with all the fixins’, to have gifts for each of the tenants under the tree, which we will decorate next week and to put the dinner on the table in the afternoon of Christmas day in the Common Room at The Madison.

I am blessed. I have friends who have stepped forward to help organize the dinner, a stranger, a woman I met when I was giving a course but didn’t really get a chance to talk to, who called after a friend told her about the event, What can I do?  Thank you Agnes.

At dinner with a friend one evening last week, after telling them about the event, asked, “What’s it going to cost?”

“I’ve calculated $1500, with the food, the gifts, and everything else we may need to get.”  They wrote a cheque.

I am so blessed.

The goal is to match that amount to ensure there are extra funds in The Madison operating budget.

Which is why, this upcoming Monday night, I’m organizing a concert here in Calgary for Christmas at The Madison.

I’m excited.

C.C.’s son, Taylor Cochrane, an amazing and gift musician is playing as is one of his band members, Luke Bowman. After dinner at our house a couple of weeks ago, Luke blew us away with his piano compositions and playing.

And… my daughter Alexis is singing too.

I am so excited!

Alexis and her boyfriend James, who plays a mean guitar, will be entertaining us with three songs.

And my friend Michelle Warkentin stepped up to say she’s willing to bring along “Granny” one of her puppets.

And I’m still looking for a couple of other performers. So if you’re in Calgary, and want a gig at a benefit concert on Monday night (which means you are contributing your talent, time and treasures for the joy of contributing your talent, time and treasures 🙂 ) then please — let me know if you want to play or, if you know of a performer and they’re available and willing, please ask them to contact me! That would be awesome.

In the meantime, I’m pasting in one of Taylor’s recordings:  This is Where I Draw The Line.