When C.C., my beloved, left on Monday to drive to Saskatoon, the weather report showed the winter storm north east of his route.

The weather had a different agenda than the weather report.

Two hours out of the city, he ran smack dab into the storm. Visibility dropped to almost zero. Snow blew and drifts collected on the highway in front of him. The road became a skating rink. He slowed down. And slowed down some more.

He wasn’t far from Oyen on the Alberta/Saskatchewan border when the accident happened. Coming around a bend, he spied tail lights in the distance. It wasn’t until he was a couple of hundred metres from the lights that he realized, the lights weren’t moving. Traffic was stopped.

He tried to stop. Touched the brakes lightly. And that was all that was needed. His car began to turn of its own volition, all four tires skating across the ice. He turned against the car’s direction. Tried to control his spin.

But it was no use. He side-swiped into the car in front of him. It spun across the ice, hit the truck that was jack-knifed on the highway and stopped. Eventually, C.C. found himself in the ditch. Right side up. No injuries to him or anyone else but big ‘owies’ on one side of his car and to the front-end of the car he hit.

Fortunately, no one was hurt, but as he waited for emergency responders to come down the line of the 40+ cars that had piled up along the 4 kilometre stretch of highway leading into Oyen, he said a prayer of gratitude, breathed deeply to calm his shaking nerves and thanked his lucky stars.

It could have been worse.

He spent the night in Oyen, along with about 150 stranded travellers who were billeted in schools and the Legion throughout the little town.

It was amazing, he told me the next day. The townspeople came out in full force and fed us and made coffee and ensured everyone was okay. And the next day, when the highway reopened at noon, they ferried people out to their abandoned cars, helped them find tow-trucks and shovels and anything else they needed so that they could get back on the road and continue on their journeys.

Makes me believe in small towns all over again, C.C. told me last night. The people were absolutely amazing. They barely slept the whole night, some of the emergency responders hadn’t slept in 48 hours, yet, there they were, helping, pitching in, doing whatever it took to make sure people were cared for and safe.

Here’s to the people of Oyen. Your support. Your help. Your amazing spirit made a huge difference in the lives of people like C.C. who were stranded on the road, seeking shelter in a storm. You were there to embrace them and make a difference.

And, thank you from my heart too. Knowing C.C. was safe, knowing he had a place to be, gave me comfort. Your loving support made a huge difference in the lives of everyone like me — those whose loved ones were on the road, battling the storm, seeking refuge.

Thank you everyone  in Oyen. You opened up your hearts to strangers and have touched thousands of lives with your generosity.

I vaguely remember hearing about the Blue Ribbon movie a couple of years ago. I might even have sent the link along to people.

I was reminded by the power of the story on Friday night last week when Melanie (who has given me permission to share this story) talked about buying 200 Blue Ribbons for her students and her experience of sharing 3 of them with teachers at her school. As she handed out each Blue Ribbon which states, “Who I Am Makes a Difference” the recipients were overwhelmed. Tears. Gratitude. Appreciation. Wonder flooded their beings. They were touched by this simple gesture from a fellow teacher and they were moved to create a difference in their world too.

I am inspired by Melanie and her story. I chatted with her about it later on in the weekend and she spoke about her vision of giving each of the students in her school a Blue Ribbon this week.

Wow. How one woman can and will make a difference!

I loved sitting and chatting with Melanie. Her enthusiasm and excitement are contagious. Like all of us, she has elements of her story that are sad and tragic. Yet, she is not letting those experiences keep her down. She is rising above the pain of the past and moving with joy into the promise of today. She is vibrant and alive and caring and willing to go the distance to ensure everyone knows — they make a difference. They are the difference in our world!

Melanie is a woman touching hearts and opening minds to their magnificence. Like Thelma Box, founder of Choices, she is committed to changing the world, one heart at a time.

Thank you Melanie for inspiring me and for touching my heart. You rock!

To view The Acknowledgement Movie — Make a Life. Make a Living. Make a Difference — click HERE.

To order Blue Ribbons – and to support this initiative by ordering other tools — click HERE.

To learn more about the Difference Makers International initiative (it’s awesome!) — click HERE.

Yesterday, while sitting in the Sunday Spiritual Service at Choices, Bill Spangler, the speaker, spoke about Love and our human condition. It is something we all seek, desire, want — to love and be loved. To know our lives have meaning. To know our passing will be marked.

It struck me then. The anniversary of my brother and sister-in-laws deaths was on Saturday. St. Patrick’s Day.

And I forgot. Busy. Caught up in coaching at Choices, in watching people come alive, I forgot about my brother and sister-in-law who are no longer alive. There was poignancy in that realization — to forget means my heart is not heavy. I just don’t want it to mean I forget them. Because I don’t.

As I listened to Bill speak so eloquently on how we all yearn to be remembered in this world, I knew there was something I had to do.

Find the spot where my brother and his wife died. And mark it.

It was on a highway going north. About an hour from Saskatoon.

But I don’t know where exactly. I’ve never gone to the spot. Never searched for the information to be exact.

Now I shall.

And in my remembering, in my purposefully marking that place where their lives ended, they will not be forgotten, and I shall remember the beauty and wonder of their being here on earth.

It is an important difference. To remember them in Love and mark their passing. To let go of the ‘whys’ of what happened and move into the beauty of their presence in my life.

In that difference, I let go of anger and fear and regret and unforgiveness and all the other emotions that keep me from embracing Love.

Namaste.

I first met Maureen when she popped into my Recover Your Joy blog and left a comment. From that moment, a friendship was formed that continues to add light and texture to my life which I cherish.

A gifted writer, Maureen is the author of Neruda’s Memoir, a beautiful compilation of poetry that sings straight to your heart (visit her blog for more info). She is also the power and the voice behind, Writing Without Paper, her blog where everyday she offers up beautiful poetry that speaks of her warrior spirit and gentle soul as well as treasures from the arts — theatre, music, poetry, videos — you name it, Maureen provides her readers with a constant source of richness to explore — her finds are our gifts.

And in her guest blog today, Maureen shares another type of community that makes a difference to those of us affected by Cancer.

Thank you Maureen. Your spirit is bright, your voice strong and your beauty runs deep.

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A COMMUNITY THAT MAKES A DIFFERENCE
By Maureen Doallas

No one ever wants to join the community to which I belong and, once in, no one can ever quite leave it.

You won’t find my community starred on any published map; it exists mostly virtually, though its members are very real. Each of us knows the other’s name, the names of loved ones and family members, even intimate aspects of one another’s life. We know how much we’ve paid, are paying, in membership dues, how much we’ll continue paying to belong, because leaving is not an option. We see the cost in the pictures we exchange, hear it in the words that erupt from places deep inside where only metaphors and similes are sufficient to describe what we experience.

What we experience often wants for clear-cut explanation. The science is complicated, the medicine more trial than error, sometimes working, sometimes
not. It can be a life-saving poison. We talk about its effects, the difference it makes to wanting to get up in the morning, to breaking open the cocoon of unspoken love.

We have a garden in our community that needs no special soil, no prescribed amount of yearly rainfall, no potting sheds or rakes or lawn mowers, no fertilizers save ourselves. It flowers with words that each day make a difference to someone newly initiated or stopping by for the first time. Those of us who’ve been in the community long enough know that the words prayed in the garden always come down to meaning the one same thing: how community is grace, how hope makes a difference.

Once, the community had a leader who had a tag line that held the gist of everything he penned: that above all else, life is worth living. To recall it, which all of us in the community do daily, is to understand that there is no price that comes close to reflecting the value we give to time with each other until we’re out of it.

We in the community break down together, bend down together, and hold out our hands to pull each other up again.

We lift. We lift as One; we lift as Community, never feeling the weight in the air of loss that hangs like a shroud in a place that makes a place for us all.

We laugh together. We share the greatest joys. We tell of the last breaths in the last hours of the last day of life, after we’ve said our goodbyes. We grieve even when the loss is not our own, because it is our own, because it is we in Him in whose image we are born and die.

We are flesh and blood. We are bones and ash. We are ghost and spirit.

We are the difference we make in the community we call Our Cancer.

What an amazing day! To stand in a circle and watch people claim their right to live large, to live on fire, to live in the fires of life inspiring them to do more, make a difference, be all they’re ever dreamt to be.

It was all in a Friday at Choices.

And the room was filled with heroes.

From Mary and Joe Davis, daughter and son–in-law of Thelma Box who founded Choices, to Janet at the back table making sure the day flowed, to Bill and Rosemarie and Dan and team captains Jody and Serge and all the coaches who gave their 100% to every participant, you are all heroes.

And to every participant who broke through to see their light, their brilliance, their true selves shining in the darkness of their fear that they will never be enough, never have the life they dreamt of, never let go of shame or fear or sadness or loss, you are all heroes.

I spent the day amidst heroes yesterday.

I am blessed.

And another real life hero is pianist and composer, Paul Cardel. Get inspired!

A day of miracles. Hearts breaking open — and the reminder, a broken heart is an open heart and an open heart is a loving heart. Seeing eyes light up with anticipation after years of watching the world through fear and dread.

Whenever I sit in on the Thursday night processes at Choices I am always awed by the capacity of the human spirit to rise up above the pain and trauma, the sorrow and the grief of our journey through life.

There are moments when I wonder, why do we keep doing this to ourselves and each other? Why do we hurt each other? Abuse each other? Ridicule, mock, and even destroy each other?

And I keep coming back to one conclusion — it is all in the name of Love.

Love is perfect, it’s just our expression of it that gets perverted, distorted, mishappen as we move through our lives. Sometimes, we lose our way, or have never been shown how, or in the showing we received of what ‘to Love ourselves or another’ means, we were given faulty messages because those entrusted with our care, our nurturing, our ‘love teaching’ didn’t know any better. They too received ‘faulty messages’ of Love.

We are always teaching other what it means to love — ourselves and others.

We are meant to be brilliant sparks of light and love. To shine as brightly as possible so that others can find their way home to their hearts.

And sometimes, our sparkle is dulled by life’s happenings.Yet always, it is there. Waiting. Holding on. Holding out hope. Always, our light, even if it’s just a tiny ember, waits to be rekindled so that we can shine bright.

And always, Love is present. Waiting in our hearts. Calling out to us to awaken, to open our eyes, and our hearts to the magnificence of our being in this world.

We all want to make a difference — it is a universal truth. We all want to feel like our lives have meaning.

Standing in the Choices room where I am coaching this week, I am blessed with watching people awaken to the beauty and the wonder of their hearts breaking open in Love.

And what a difference their open hearts make in the room. What a difference their open hearts make in the world.

It was another full day at Choices, and I am blessed. I am part of the gifts that Thelma Box, the founder of Choices began 29 years ago when she started the seminar with the belief and the desire and the dream of “Changing the world one heart at a time.”

Thank you Thelma for your dream. thank you for keeping the light shining.

You are making a difference..

I am coaching at Choices this week. It is one of my favourite things to do, but, it also means long days, fast sleeps. We begin as coaches at 8am and wrap up between 10 and 10:30 at night. Which means, sleep time is precious, blogging time limited.

At Choices, miracles happen throughout the room, throughout the day, throughout the five days of seminars. It is such a gift to see people walk into the room Wednesday, their defenses in place, their judgments thriving, only to leave on Sunday open, eyes filled with wonder, hearts and bodies filled with love.

It happens every time. Always.

The only difference from group to group is how it happens.

When I worked at the homeless shelter I discovered what I believe are “Universal Truths”.  Three of those truths are (the book I’m currently writing is Lessons in Love: Everything I know about being human I learned at a homeless shelter — there are 15 ‘truths’ in total) ) The first three are — We are all Connected. We all want a place to belong. Love is all there is to hold onto.

At Choices, those truths are illuminated through the stories people tell of their pain, their sorrow, their sadness and their search for meaning. Always, their search for meaning, for that place where better is possible. Sure, there are those who have good lives who come to the seminar because someone they love has asked them, but, as we delve into their human condition, they discover that they don’t want to settle for just ‘good enough’, they want and deserve the better that is possible when we live life on full throttle, hearts wide open to give and receive love freely.

When I went through Choices, my life was pretty good. I’d spent three years healing from a relationship that almost killed me and in my healing, believed my daughters were healing too. But, the residual affects of the pain they’d suffered as they watched their mother disappear before their eyes was still affecting our relationship, and their lives. Through our learning and stretching through our comfort zones, through forgiveness and love, our relationship has improved to where I believe I am the luckiest mother alive — I have two amazing daughters who love me as I am and who know, I love them, exactly the way they are.

I am standing ‘in Love’ this week. Coaching is the best way I know to give back to the world, to be on purpose, making a difference in the world by simply turning up and loving people where they’re at as they discovered the path to where they want to go.

It’s a great way to be alive.

May your week be filled with wonder. May you find Love in where ever you’re at.

This is serious, big time gratitude for something that makes a huge difference in my life, and the world. I’m talking about ginormous, astronomical, kawabongu difference!

I’m talkin’ ’bout the World Wide Web, or as it’s come to be known, the web, www and even more familiarly, the Internet.

It really hit me last night, sitting at dinner with friends, somebody said something about something and presto! Two iPhones, a blackberry and an ipad are whisked out in the blink of an eye and we’re all googling (it is a verb you know), searching for the answer, or verification of what’s been said. How amazing is that? Information, facts, some untruths, a whole bunch of information at your finger tips.

The WWW is changing how we act, how we perceive, how we are in this world. Through the invisible threads of cyberspace knitting the world together, the truth of ‘we are all connected’ has never been more true.

We are all connected.

Ring me. Text me. FB me. Connect me to your network — and don’t you forget me!

And, as I am off doing one of my favourite things for the next five days, coaching at Choices, my posts will be short, and oh so sweet. 🙂

For today, hail the world wide web and the wealth of information, interesting video and art and stories it places at our fingertips. And here’s to the one’s who keep creating value from the invisible nature of cyberspace.

Namaste.

I noticed it first on Friday evening. The street in front of our home seemed rather dark. Saturday morning, sun not yet risen, the street is pitched in black. All the street lights are out.

I do nothing. I forget, get busy. Sun rises, the lights are no longer needed.

That evening, still not light. Still in darkness. My daughter drops over and mentions it. Yes. They were out yesterday too, I tell her. And still I do nothing.

I’m sure someone on the street has called it in. There are at least 50 houses affected, someone has called it in. For me to do so would just be a ‘bother’, I tell myself.

And daylight breaks. Sun rises and the world is bathed in natural light.

Last night, when there was still no light on the street and I saw a woman walking past my window, I thought about safety, about darkness, about peace of mind. I wanted to know when the City would be fixing our lights and so, I risked what I thought would be condescension and called into the 24 hour City-line to inquire about the lights.

Chantelle, the woman who answered my call was pleasant, professional and informative. “No one’s called it in,” she told me when I told her how I’ve avoided calling it in for fear of being ‘a pest’.

I know what you mean, she laughed. I always figure someone else has done it anyway, so I do nothing.

We laughed together. Good thing you did something, she replied before hanging up and promising to put the job order into the streets department for action.

How many times have I done that? Done nothing because I don’t want to feel stupid, a pest, annoying, interfering?

How many times have I avoided taking action to avoid the discomfort of my judgments telling me how other people will react to my actions?

Last night I took action and learned a valuable lesson. Lighting up the world requires taking action to make sure the lights are turned on.

The lights are not yet back on but I feel better knowing I took action. And that makes a difference in my world.

Namaste.