Dancing in the light

Do not confuse motion and progress. A rocking horse keeps moving but does not make any progress. Alfred A. Montapert

When I was a little girl I had one of those heavy plastic rocking horses that was attached by coils to a metal base that kept the horse grounded. I could sit on my horse, bounce up and down, sideways and front and back. I loved that horse. The motion. The joy of sitting and bouncing and riding.

My rocking horse never made any progress in the physical sense of getting from Point A to B, but I sure could make it ride across plains and continents, oceans and skies. Every time I rode I experienced some new and exciting adventure. I was Annie Oakley, the Lone Ranger and Tonto all dressed up in one. I moved around the world, saving children and dogs and civilisations from sure destruction. I was all powerful.

My rocking horse was my escape from the world in which I lived. The world around me which I didn't understand, or didn't make sense, or simply was too complicated to grasp.

As I grew, I had to let go of my rocking horse. My body became to big for it. We moved too far away to take it with us. Without my horse, I had to find some other way to escape the world around me -- escape being the operative word. I never wanted to get off my horse, so I created a mighty steed within my mind who could transport me away from the world in which I lived into a world that made sense to me. A world that ideally suited me. A world in which I had control. I had power. A world where I was all powerful because, well, I was writing the script. I controlled every scene, every word, every action. I determined who was there, what they did and said and what happened. Cool!

Now, I loved my imaginary worlds when I was a child. They were fun! Problem is as an adult, escaping into scripted scenes within my head is not an effective way to live my best life yet. Scripted scenes where I control the people, places, actions, scenes and words are not a reflection of the world around me. They are a reflection of what I want to have happen, what I believe could happen -- if everyone and everything in my world did what I thought was best, or right, or simply acceptable to me!

And that just ain't the way the world works because often, the rocking horse world in my mind becomes a wild ride upon my high horse of self-deception. Armed with my quiver of judgement filled with arrows of complaint, criticism, and condemnation I take aim at gentle hearts and opening minds and pierce balloon's of possibility with my conviction that I know what is best for the world around me.

I must admit, I have clung to many a high horse in my adulthood and run roughshod through many a delicate blossom of life unfolding. I have sat upon my mighty stead trampling other people's feelings and perceptions with the heavy footed destruction of King Kong stomping through New York.

And always, when the ride was over, I have fallen off my high horse in a fit of embarrassed consternation that so much destruction could be created in such a short, wild ride.

High horses, like rocking horses do not get me anywhere other than where I don't want to be. Eating sawdust in the not so OK corral of my mind, grovelling in the mud of guilt and disappointment.

The good news is. Dismounting from my high horse of yesterdays, I am progressing. I see the progress I've made. I celebrate my empty quiver of judgement. My arrows of criticism, complaints and condemnation are sheathed and I expand into the moment, filled with the joy of fearlessly embracing who I am when I let go of clinging to the neck of my high horse and dance in the lightness of my human being.

I am at peace in my heart, my mind open to the wonder and beauty of the world around me.

In my wide eyed wonder of being all of me, I see all of you.

You are beauty. You are light. You are a magnificent human being.

The question is: Are you riding roughshod over the world around you, or are you dismounting from your high horse, peacefully embracing the wonder and joy of the world around you, dancing in the lightness of your human being?

Zero Tolerance

If you deny yourself commitment, what can you do with your life? Harvey Fierstein

His life was in shambles. Broken. Penniless. Hopeless. "I'll do whatever it takes to change my life," he said.

"Are you willing to quit smoking?" she asked.

"No," he vehemently replied.

"Then you're not willing to do whatever it takes."

"I am, but just not that," he said. "I can't do it. Won't do it. I can't lie to you."

The stories we tell ourselves when first we practice to deceive ourselves.

Susan Scott, in Fierce Conversations writes, "I am successful only to the degree that who I am and what I am living are in alignment."

If I am unwilling to 'do whatever it takes' to be free of an addiction, then my success will be measured against who I am in my willingness and unwillingness to do all things necessary to be free of my addiction, to have what I say I want in my life.

How success manifests itself in my life came as a huge insight for me yesterday.

I had been speaking with a staff member about a client who was struggling with their addiction. I knew of an instance where they had been asked to commit to quitting smoking. "Anything but that," he had replied.

"Then you're not willing to do whatever it takes," the facilitator had responded.

"I am," he said. "Just not that." And he had gone on to explain why not.

In his permission to not do that, he gave himself permission to not do other things too, or to continue to do those things that were harming him, even though he said he wouldn't. Because in his mind he knew he'd already not committed to doing one thing, every time he lit up, his psyche was saying, 'see, it's okay. Nothing bad happened.'

And then the slide begins.

It is a game I often play with myself.

"I'll do this, but not that."

In my negotiation, I leave the door open to slipping through the crack of what I will tolerate, permit, accept.

We get what we tolerate.

In my case, I get to weasel out of losing weight because I refuse to commit to doing whatever it takes to have what I say I want.

Truth is, if I want to lose weight, then I must be willing to commit to doing the hard things I am unwilling to do.

To change my eating habits, I must be willing to let go of the habits that are undermining me. Negotiating with my habits leaves me room to maneuver out of committing 100% to my success.

Zero tolerance.

For the man who wouldn't quit smoking, when given the opportunity had he committed to doing it, he would have had to hold himself accountable to his commitment. It wasn't about quitting smoking. It was about being true to the commitments we make to ourselves.

On one level, he was being honest. He knew he wouldn't keep the commitment and refused to lie.

But on a deeper, more emotional/spiritual level, his lack of commitment was the escape hatch he needed to slide into more destructive behaviours when the going got tough.

And he did.

I do too.

Time to stand up. Time to quit denying myself commitment. Time to teach myself I can keep a commitment with myself -- and be stronger, more successful for that commitment.

Time to align who I am with what I am living.

Time to be the success I want to achieve.

The question is: Where are you letting yourself off the hook of being successful by scrimping on your commitments? Where are you slipping through the crack of what you're willing to tolerate?

Flying is not just for the birds

It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that things are difficult. Seneca .

I love my job. Doesn't mean everything is perfect in it. In fact, there are some things that are decidedly 'unperfect'. But, I love what I do. Love the feeling of accomplishment, of making a difference, of contributing something meaningful to our society

And then I have days like yesterday. Days where time is of a premium. Where time at my desk is minimal. Where the pile of 'things to do' grows larger as the "Done" never changes.

Actually, it wasn't that yesterday was such a bad day. In fact, it wasn't. But the tiredeness from the human interaction side was draining. Give me time at my computer, a blank screen, a fresh idea and I'm happy! The value in yesterday however, was in the lessons learned in relationship to other people. The lessons are profound.

I am reminded everyday that 'we are all human'. That we have strengths and weakensses, triumphs and trials, dreams and fears, truths and untruths, beliefs and myths, willingness and fears. That we carry masks and stories. Habits that strengthen us. Habits that pull us down. That we will step out and take a risk. Pull back and run away.

And everyday, I am reminded that in our human condition, we want to believe we are doing our best. Sometimes, our best may not meet someone else's standards. And sometimes, our best is not what someone else wants. But we want to believe it is our best. How else can we explain where we're at if where we're at is not where we want to be? We are doing our best, to change, to move, to get along. We are doing our best, we tell ourselves, it's the world lining up against us, holding us back, keeping us down, pushing us under. That's the problem. Not us creating the problems in our lives.

In a building with hundreds of people struggling to find the best in themselves, and believing they're doing they're best at finding, doing or being it, I am sometimes challenged to accept that as their truth. I want better for them.

Better is a relative term. Just because I 'see' someone as stuck in self-pity, doesn't mean my truth is a truth they want to see, or can see, or need to see. Doesn't mean it's the best for them to tell them what I see that they don't see. Sometimes, the best is to let them be where they're at without trying to move them along, change their state or shake them up. Sometimes, if their truth is they're pulling the ground out from underneath themselves, my best is to give them the opportunity to 'hit rock bottom' without cushioning their fall.

And that can be tough. Because in the process of letting go, I have to let go of my ego's need to be right, be important, be somebody with the answers.

I don't have anyone else's answers.

I only have my own.

And so, I come full circle back to 'my best is good enough'.

In meeting with three clients last night to discuss a project they're involved in that is not going very well at the moment, my best was to 'lose it'. To get emotional and 'talk straight'.

After being accused of not 'standing by them', I shook my head and said, in my ever so eloquent way, "Bulls..t. Perhaps it's time to go look in a mirror and see who's not standing by whom. Are you turning up for yourselves? Are you staying true to your course? Living up to what you believe in? Or are you blaming me and everyone else for what's happened in your lives? My goal here is to turn up and give my 100%. I can't make you do it. I can't make you turn up. If you choose not to, that is your choice. My life doesn't change. I love my life. Turning up here can change your life. It's up to you."

And then... before I started to cry full force, I said. "I have given you forty-five minutes to talk about what you want and all we've talked about is what went wrong. I don't have more time for this conversation. I have another meeting at 7 and I need to get myself centered." And I walked out, my mind chattering. "That was a mistake. What did you lose it for?"

Stop.

Getting emotional in a conversation and crying is not something I like to do -- it puts we way outside my comfort zone of controlling my emotions. Reality is, it was the best I had to give in that moment. I was feeling frustrated, disappointed, angry and upset. My best was limited by my attachment to my emotions and to the outcome of that meeting.

Whenever I'm attached to the outcome, I am making it personal. In my attachment, I am at risk of being swayed by my emotions making more of the situation by bringing it full circle back to my desire to direct the outcome.

Ah, the tangled webs we weave.

I don't know the outcome of that meeting. I said my piece, in all its awkward, disjointed and emotional state. It's my choice to let it go, or not.

I choose to Breathe. Open up to expansion. Soften my heart and centre my being in love. As my heart softens, I feel love flow.

And I smile.

I learned a lot last night. Learned that people really do try their best -- it is my expectation of what is their best that undermines my ability to accept it for what it's worth.

We get what we tolerate.

In my emotional state, I opened myself up to my own truth and came front and center with my lack of tolerance for other people's human condition.

I wanted to change their state, alter their condition.

Can't do it. Not that powerful.

All I can do is be my authentic self. And for me, that means being aligned with my values, holding true to my belief in the magnificence of the human spirit, and setting myself free from expectation that the world will unfold according to Louise.

The world is constantly unfolding. It's not my 'job' to set it straight. Life is full of curves. All I can do is unfold my wings, spread them wide and fly -- even when I'm having trouble getting off the ground. In my struggle to get air, to be free, to fly high, I share my courage and strength. I share the best of me. And that's when I have the greatest impact.

The question is: Are you learning from your mistakes or letting them ground you in the belief, flying is for the birds?

I am enough.

We don't go running away from our values. We go drifting away, and one day wake-up in a place we never meant to be, drifting in a direction we would have never chosen. John Blumberg

We had a meeting yesterday with a young man, a client at the shelter where I work, to inform him that his transitional bed had been closed. He has not followed through on any of the commitments he made to 'get his life on track'. And, in the process, has been blaming others and threatening another client with physical harm. He is still welcome to access the building, and the Emergency sleeping quarters, but he has lost the privilege of the more private sleeping area for ninety days.

Earlier in the day I was speaking with our Executive Director about the chaos in the lives of the guys involved in the recording of Stand by Me. "I've been taking it too personally," I told him. "I've attached myself to the outcome and keep wishing they would become accountable for themselves and stand up for themselves."

"In my forty years in this business," he said, "I have seen this happen time and time again. The cycles in people's lives keep repeating themselves. You work to create opportunities for change, and people's fear of change limits their opportunities."

In my angst over other people's choices, I was making bad choices for myself. I was losing sleep over things I had no control over, and giving up peace of mind in the process.

What I put my attention on grows stronger in my life. In focusing on my angst over what 'they' were doing, I was losing focus on what I was doing. My attitude was creating anxiety in my life.

The things we tell ourselves, become the things we believe. In the process of watching these individuals crater, I was telling myself I needed to do something different.

I did -- but it wasn't the different I was thinking about. I was thinking I needed to do something different to 'reach' them.

In reality, the different I needed to do was to reach myself, to reclaim my peace of mind.

Earlier in the day when I'd been talking to Alexis, my eldest daughter, about my angst, she had reminded me, "You are good enough. You do enough. You are enough. You give your 100% mom. Other's are responsible for what they do."

Wise advice.

One of my core values is to not give up. To not walk away from someone in need. Not giving up doesn't mean, giving into bad behaviour. It doesn't mean accepting the unacceptable as acceptable.

It means, making possibilities available, providing the tools to step into the possibility of more, and letting people make their own choices based on the new possibilities they've experienced and information they've received -- and to let them be accountable for the choices they make.

Lost in the throes of 'fixing lives' I began to drift into the belief I actually could, that I had the answers for other people's lives. While my ego would like to believe I do, reality is, I don't. I only have the answers for me. And when I live my life centered on my core values, I stay unattached to 'how' people live their lives and focus on what I am doing to live mine with love and truth and beauty and joy and compassion and kindness as my watchwords.

When I live my life by my values, I do not drift into the belief other's should play by my rules, uphold my truth, live my dream.

We are each accountable for how we live our lives, for what we do, for where we are at and where we take ourselves. I can hold a space for dreams to awaken. I can open a door to possibility, but I cannot force anyone to latch onto a dream, or step through a door to somewhere they are not prepared to venture into.

I can turn up in my own life. Be all I'm meant to be and fearlessly share my joy and love and compassion and bounty. I cannot force someone else to turn up for themselves or turn up for me.

I am not powerful enough to break someone's heart or destroy their life. I am not powerful enough to heal someone else's broken heart or life.

I can do my best. Be my best. Give my best.

I am good enough. I do enough. I am enough.

The question is: Are you holding onto the belief you are powerful enough to change someone else's life? Are you turning up for others and avoiding turning up for yourself?

No Texting please. I'm human.

The advantage of modern means of communication is they enable you to worry about things in all of the world. Dr. Laurence J. Peter

It is one of my favourite things to do. Walk through a conservation area here in the city with Ellie and both my daughters and share our stories and thoughts and ideas on life and living and being alive. It was the perfect day for it. Sunny. Not too hot. Mid-afternoon.

We walked and laughed and chatted. The girls occasionally bickered over some trivial aspect of who's who and who's not in the zoo. Ellie tugged at her leash, desperate to be set free to explore the environment. We couldn't let her off. It's a Dogs On Leash Only zone. But, she knew that soon we would veer off the beaten path, onto a tributary, walk deeper into the woods to a spot where we could access the river. Far from passersby, she would be allowed to have a swim and so, she tugged me forward. Faster. Faster.

As we walked along the path, people going in the opposite direction smiled and said Hello. We smiled back, Ellie straining to have her say as well. At one point, a guy whizzed by on his bike. We could tell he was talking from quite a ways away. His voice carried on the air towards us faster than his wheels could cover the distance. As he approached, it was easy to see the cellphone wire dangling from his earpiece. Buried deep in conversation, a frown lining his forehead, he was oblivious to anyone and anything else on the path.

Duh. Let's enjoy the great outdoors. But don't let yourself be disconnected.

Another guy followed not far behind. One hand on the handlebars. One texting on his cellphone.

And then another.

The girls and I laughed. "OMG," Alexis said. "What is with everyone? Can't they just take a break and enjoy the day without texting?"

Sad thing was. Another bicyclist passed by, his cellphone in hand, his fingers nimbly texting too.

At C.C's daughter's grad dance later that night, amidst the pomp and circumstance, cellphones also made an appearance. At the table behind ours, a bevy of young beauties sat chatting and laughing, sharing stories of the night. They looked like fairy-tale princesses. Their gowns frothy confections of taffeta and tulle of rich vibrant hues. Their hair rolled and permed, make-up artfully applied. I listened in on their conversation and laughed to myself. 'No matter how times change. Some things don't change.' They talked of boys and 'OMG did you see Elspbeth? What is she wearing? Someone should tell her.... And what about Jane? Why on earth would she come with that guy? He's such a.....' Girl chatter permeated the air borne high on teenage hormones racing into overdrive.

But, there was a difference from when I remembered sitting on that side of the generational gap. Way back then, cellphones were not the fashion accessory of the day.

As the girls chatted, one young girl sat, her upswept hairdo adorned with a diamond tiara and her slim body envelopped in a beautiful deep blue gown of silk and lace, her pearl white cellphone in one hand, busily texting. I watched her as she deftly clicked away, never missing a beat in the conversation, nor the excitement of the activity around her, nor a keystroke on her phone.

Connections. We are a society of perpetual connection of the binary kind. No matter where you roam, no matter how far you go, by boat or plane or camel, someone will be beeping you, calling you,texting you. It's cheaper to text, don't you know?

In the evolutionary mix of continuous regeneration and modification of every lifeform, the art of listening is slowly dying. How can I listen to what you're saying when I'm busying texting on one hand, pulling the top of my dress up with the other (which seemed to be the action of the evening amidst a room of strapless ballgowns) and sipping on a glass of punch as someone else is busily telling me about so and so's new boyfriend?

Perhaps texting is to mankind today what fire was to our neandrathal forefathers. Where once fire led the way out of the dark, texting is leading us back into the cave. Scientists in eras to come will finally have understanding of 'why' we developed the opposing thumb. And in its ascendence to the top of the evolutionary dog pile they'll have proven once and for all -- we really are no better than the chimpanzees.

Sad thing is, it may be cool to text while dancing -- or riding a bike for that matter, but in our attempts to prove the supremacy of our opposing thumbs, we've lost the art that brought us to the forefront of evolution. The ability to communicate and understand each other in deep, meaningful ways.

I used to be envious of my daughters and their friends ability to text.

Now, I'm dropping my opposing thumb envy and donning my' No Texting please. I'm human', t-shirt. The ubiquitous cellphone may be here to stay, but my opposing thumbs will never supersede the dexterity of all my senses, including my fingers. Let me hear, think, feel, touch and smell the connection between us. Let me listen to the sound of your voice whispering sweet nothings, or anything, in my ear. Let me awaken my senses with the art of communicating in 3-D and let me never succumb to the desire to "Text you" where I'm at.

I'm right here. Listening to what you have to say. Eager to communicate.

Give me a voice. A real human contact and I will give you....something to talk about.

In love and light

Meditation is the tongue of the soul and the language of our spirit. Jeremy Taylor. Anglican Bishop 1613 - 1667

I didn't know his wife very well. Had only met her a few times when I went to their house to work with him in his film editing studio. When I did meet her she was always warm and welcoming. Serene.

Last night, I went to her memorial service. I wanted to honour her journey and support my friend.

The service was held in a temple on the other side of the city. A small, former church, the space has been converted into a meditation space. Clean white walls. No ornamentation other than the altar at the front where pictures of Yogi and Saints, including Jesus Christ, line the wall of an alcove. Candles burned. Incense infused the air with its sweet, pungent aroma. Soft sitar music played. People sat in chairs in silent meditation as I quietly entered and took a seat. At the centre of the altar alcove, a picture of D. sat framed by a red and white rose on either side. A vase of roses sat on the floor on either side of the table, one red, one white.

Simple. Serene. Beautiful.

Other than my friend, I didn't know anyone there. But during the ceremony I felt connected to each of them. Connected to an energy that flowed peacefully throughout the room. The service began with an Opening Prayer and a chant. An ancient Vedic Aum. Each reading was punctuated by a period of meditation. The evening ended with our arms outstretched, fingers at eye level as we chanted seven Aum to send with her spirit on its journey home.

It was a beautiful, heartfelt and loving celebration of one woman's home.

As I drove home, the sun was setting beyond the ridges of the mountains to the west. Light filtered through trees in amber hues. Sparkles danced on the river. Shadows lengthened into velvety darkness.

A verse drifted through my head.

I am Spirit
flowing
into the river
of life
tumbling down the mountainside
cascading joyfully
into my soul
uniting
with the infinite calmness
of bliss exploding
into The One.
I am One
You are One
Thou and I are One
becoming One with the Spirit.

God Speed your journey today.

Blessings on your path.

In love and light.

Time passes.

You have to start by changing the story you tell yourself about getting older...The minute you say to yourself, 'Time is everything, and I'm going to make sure that time is used the way I dream it should be used,' then you've got a whole different story. Diane Sawyer

Yesterday, I experienced, with C.C., his daughter's High School Graduation. Three hundred and seventy-five graduates walked across the stage to receive a handshake and their High School Diploma.

In the Valedictorian's speech, the young man presenting told of an assignment he did in Grade 6. Each student was asked to write 'a letter to self' which was to be opened upon their Grade 12 graduation. B.W. stood on the stage and held up his letter. "It's in the original envelope," he said. "No tricks. I haven't opened it before." And he opened the envelope and read the contents of his letter.

In Grade 6, he wanted to be a Geologist. He now plans on taking his Masters in Psychology.

In Grade 6, he liked hockey and basketball. Still likes team sports but he is also a musician and actor.

In Grade 6, he liked a girl named Tess. And he hoped she liked him.

In Grade 12, he likes C.C.'s daughter. And he knows she likes him.

Between likes and dislikes and dreams and schemes of what to do with his summer, a lot of time has passed since he wrote that letter. But as he mentioned in his speech, the core values, the fundamentals of who the person he is, were already set by the time he wrote that letter when he was 11. The difference is only time.

If I remember back to Grade 6 I see a young girl who loved her cat and dog and loved spending time lying on the grass gazing up through the leaves of a tree and day dreaming. She loved to walk in the rain without an umbrella. She loved splashing in mud puddles.

I remember a young girl who was frightened of becoming a woman and who relied on her older sisters to guide her through the confusion of what was starting to happen to her body. I remember a young girl who liked to spend time with children. She baby-sat whenever she could, and was fascinated with what made people tick. She read and read and even at age 11, Psychology Today was one of her favourite magazines. And she also read those True Love magazines that she is so embarrassed today to think she actually read them.

She believed in love. In fairness. In taking care of others. She believed the world needed her to help make it different. She believed she could make a difference. She believed everyone could.

She had a best friend named Marilyn. She didn't like boys. Yet. She loved walking the long way home from school with her sister and was always excited to see Pepi, the family cat, running across the field towards them. He'd jump into one of their arms and start to purr.

She was fascinated with watching people. With observing how they did things and she'd often try to figure out why they did what they did, said what they said.

She believed in magic. She believed the world was a wondrous place. An adventure waiting to unfold just for her.

She believed in being kind. In not hurting others with her words. She believed there was an answer to everything. She just had to look hard enough to find it.

She did not like violence. Did not like meanness. Did not like thunder and lightning. She still doesn't.

Today, she still believes in magic and is always amazed by the wonder of the world around her. She still likes to lie on the grass under a tree and look up at the sky through the filigree of its leaves. She still likes walking in the rain and splashing in mud puddles. She still likes watching people.

She still believes in love and she still believes she can make a difference. That everyone can.

Today, she is still that kind, caring, gentle young girl she was back then. The differences today are found in the lessons she's learned through time's passage.

The story of her life is different than she'd imagined it to be at age 11. It's better. More solid. Complete. Richer than she could ever have imagined back then, lying under a tree, daydreaming in the clouds above.

But who she is. The core person. The values and principles. The beliefs. Those haven't changed very much.

What's changed is her conviction. Her commitment to living true to her values, principles and beliefs.

She doesn't compromise on those anymore. She doesn't short-change herself and the world by scrimping on her truth.

Time taught her there is no value in being untrue to herself. There is no value in trying to fit in to someone else's story.

Her story is the only one she has to tell. She lives it, day by day, with the intent of making it her own personal best-seller.

She lives it as a gripping adventure of life lived way beyond the edges of her comfort zone, out there in the land of living true to herself. She lives it like there is no other life for her to live.

And, she's right. There isn't any other life for her to live. This is the only one she's got to experience right now.

The only life we each have to live today is this one we're living right now. This one where time passes, regardless of what we do to stem its flow.

Time passes. It's up to each of us to make a difference in how we pass the minutes flowing by.

The question is: Does time pass you by? Are you a passer-by watching it flow or are you in the flow of making each moment count? Are you stepping beyond the edges of your comfort zone, flying free in that place where you live your life being true to who you are, uncompromising in your commitment to be all you're meant to be in this moment, right now?