All is well in the world today

Has creation a final goal? And if so, why was it not reached at once? Why was the consummation not realized from the beginning? To these questions there is but one nswer: Because God is Life, and not merely Being. F.W.J. Schelling, 1809

Last night C.C. and I went to see my eldest daughter perform in a play she and four other young actors have been rehearsing for the past three months. It was funny and fun. What a joy to watch your child who is now an adult excel. Afterwards, C.C. took his daughter and her boyfriend home and Alexis and I stopped into a wine bar down the street from the theatre for a glass of wine and a nice long chat.

Long ago I could never have imagined being a mother. Today, I could never imagine not being a mother.

You don't know what you don't know.

Who would have thought that becoming something I could never imagine being would have such a profound effect on my life and be so fulfilling?

Yup, definitely don't know what I don't know.

As we sat across from each other, talking about life and stress, and dreams and fears, I was in awe of the beautiful young woman in front of me.

Since last fall, she has been working with a program for at risk youth in schools. Every week, along with three other actors and a core team of counsellors, they work through 'life issues' using drama as the context upon which they teach healthy life skills.

Every week, she has become more and more committed to her belief that to make a difference in the world, her future does not lie on the stage, but in creating opportunities for youth to take centre stage of their own lives and live the best that they can be.

This fall, she will be returning to university to work towards her masters in psychology. She is on fire. In the fire. Burning up with her desire to add value to a world sorely in need of healing.

The youth Alexis works with are all in high risk environments. Families where violence, addictions, poverty create a powerful cocktail of abuse. Like the young man she mentioned last night, many are struggling, at the young age of 14 and 15, to stay clean and sober. To rid their bodies of addictions to drugs and alcohol.

In Alexis' eyes, they are not hopeless. They are filled with possibility.

In her eyes, the path that led them to where they're at is nothing compared to the possibilities for new directions. The path that lead them into violence and abuse can end here, once they learn there is somewhere else to go other than that place called re-enacting the pain and turmoil of their family of origin's history.

I admire my daughter. She is compassionate and passionate about creating a better world. About creating lasting change that will open up the world to possibility and open up spirits to the truth about their wings -- we are all born with wings, we lose our ability to fly when we fall into the belief, life is a daily grind of repeating everything we learned yesterday, over and over again.

What we learned yesterday is simply the information we needed to get us here. It is fodder that fuels our learning to be more than the negative belief that we are meant to crawl in the muck of living in the past.

Last night I watched a group of young actors create laughter in a room. To create their performances, they had to work together. They had to be committed to do what it takes to have what they wanted to create -- an evening of stellar entertainment that lifted up the spirits of everyone in the room.

Last night, I chatted with my daughter and was touched by her essence. Touched by the joy of knowing, this child of mine is a beacon of light. As she illuminates her path, she casts a mighty glow that lights the path for others to follow.

All's well in the world today.

The greatness we are capable of is far greater than the darkness we fear will consume us as long as we each keep our light shining brightly. As long as we illuminate the path with the best we can be, the universe will evolve into all it is meant to be.

The question is: Are you shedding light on your path so that others can follow you home to love?

To fly, we must leap.

Many of us spend our whole lives running from feeling with the mistaken belief that you can not bear the pain. But you have already borne the pain. What you have not done is feel all you are beyond that pain. Kahlil Gibran

There was a man who was lost in a vast desert. He wandered for days, searching for water, fearing he would die. As he stumbled over one more sand dune, he saw, at the bottom of the other side, a vast and mighty river flowing. He tumbled and spun down the dune to the edge of the water and drank gratefully.

When his thirst was sated, he looked up and on the other side of the river, saw a land beyond his imaginings. Lush and green, birds sang in the mighty trees that covered the distance to the horizon. Flowers blossomed in a carpet of rainbow colours upon the ground, fruit hung from every bough.

"Oh how I wish I could be there," he whispered to the sky.

But there was no bridge. No ferry waiting to take him across.

He looked around and saw pieces of wood strewn across the shore. Quickly he gathered the largest pieces and built a boat. Satisfied with his work, proud of his accomplishment and ingenuity, he jumped into his craft and sailed across the river to the other shore.

"How beautiful! How wondrous!" he cried when he stepped upon the far shores. Everything he could ever imagine was there. Fruit hung from every branch. Mushrooms and vegetables grew in the ground.

Delighted he had found his very own paradise, the man set off to explore the lands before him. But he could not leave his trusty craft behind. "What if I come upon another river?" he asked. And he hefted the little boat upon his back and began to walk.

As he walked, the boat grew heavier and heavier. But he could not put it down. "What if I need it?" he kept whispering to himself. "At night, it will make a good shelter and who knows when it might come in handy up ahead."

Eventually, the man's knees buckled beneath the weight of the boat. He fell to the ground. He crawled as far as he could, the boat moving with him like a giant turtle shell upon his back. And when he could not move any further, he lay quietly and fell asleep upon the ground, where he sleeps forevermore, safe within the shell of the craft that carried him to where he is today.

To be free, we must let go.

To fly, we must leap.

To land, we must fall.

Holding on to feelings that got us through to where we are, keeps us feeling what was, and limits our experience of what is.

What is exists only in the experience of now. To experience what is real and true and happening right now, is to let go of feeling what was real and true back then.

That was then. This is now. And now is not forever.

Yet, sometimes, we hang on to now as if it will never change, never be any different. We hold on in the fear that to let go will mean we must change, be different. We hold on in the fear that to let go means what was had no meaning, no value, no purpose in our journey. We hold on because to let go of what was means we have no control of what is.

And we couldn't be more wrong.

We always have control of what is in our lives today. We make the choices that determine how we live this moment right now. It's what was we can no longer control. It is the past. Gone. Over. Finished. The feelings we carry with us, those are the stuff of our imaginings. The past is not 'real'. It only exists in our mind. Perhaps in frozen memories pasted on the page of a picture book we turn to when we want to remember what was, or who was, part of our journey. But it is not real. It does not exist in the three-d realm of our existence today. It's value is in the strengths we've gathered through coming through the experiences, the courage we tested and climbed upon to get to where we are. The value is in who we are today, not the journey that brought us here.

Let go of believing in the past, and hold onto being real in this moment. Drop the burdens, carry only your truth in this moment. Who you are, what you are doing right now is what counts. The only way to build a better tomorrow is to do your absolute, total, complete best right now.

Your best is good enough. Be it.

The question is: Are you holding on to spent emotions, fuelling the flames of regret, the fires of resentment, the embers of distrust with your desire to hold onto what doesn't create value in your life today? Are you willing to put down the burden of feeling less than who you truly are when you set yourself free to be the magnificent, awesome, wondrous being who has spent your lifetime getting to this place where you are living your life for all you're worth? Are you being rapturously alive?

Being Alive

Nothing is predestined: The obstacles of your past can become the gateways that lead to new beginnings. Ralph Blum

Six years ago when the police walked in and set me free from a relationship that was killing me, I was broken. My life in disarray, my heart in tatters, I had to begin the process of healing. I had to choose, would I live or would I die.

In "The Power of Myth", an interview with Bill Moyers, Joseph Campbell suggests that humankind is not seeking the meaning of life. Rather, he states, we are seeking and have always sought what Campbell calls "The rapture of being alive". That feeling of bliss, of connectedness, of deep-seated knowing that this, this very moment filled with the power of all that is real and gutsy and scary and fulfilling, this is what counts. This is what makes life so grand. Campbell goes on to say that no matter the times, no matter the culture, our journey is not about finding some special vocation or mission in life, it's about the vibrant full-bodied experience of being alive.

Yesterday, Ellie and I walked on a ridge over-looking the river that serpentined through a vast parkland area of trees and shrub. Two weeks ago, ice covered the river. Now, the centre part of the river flows free. Ice still holds its edges snug against the embankment. Snow still covers the ground except on southern slopes where the sun's heat has melted the snow in open spaces, revealing the dirt and grasses that lay dormant beneath its blanket.

A gentle spring breeze caressed my face, played peek-a-boo with my hair, lifting errant strands to tickle up against my ears and forehead. Ellie was in heaven. She leaped and frolicked and rolled in dry grass, her eyes ever vigilant for a mud-puddle to roll in. Fortunately, I was even more vigilant and called her back from unruly encounters of the mud rolling kind.

Walking silently in the spring sunshine, the scents and sounds of spring alive around me, I felt the burden of my heart breaking open. C.C. and I had just had a heated discussion that had left both of us feeling exposed, unnerved, vulnerable.

Intimacy does that. Brings us close to the edge of reason where we dig in our heels and push back against our fear of falling.

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

To be intimate, I must be open. To be open I must break through the corroded casements sealing off the windows of my heart, shatter the panes of fear and throw caution to the wind.

To be intimate, I must break open the windows of my fear.

Yesterday, I sat upon the hillside watching the slow silent moving of the river below. I watched a crack form along the icy shore, a chunk of ice fall into the river and drift away. It didn't go far. At the point where the river meets open water, ice blocked its passage. The chunk of ice retreated, advanced, retreated, advanced until eventually it grew silent and melted into the waters.

Like my heart and mind. I flow into love and retreat in a fury of angst when an old wound cracks the icy edges of my heart. A chunk of fear breaks off, falls into the river and flows onward, jamming up against the wall of my resistance to break free.

It will take the warmth of the sun to break up the ice. The sun will need time and the gentle caress of the wind to aid it in its mission to heal winter's transgressions so that the river can flow freely.

It will take the rapture of being alive to unblock my fear of falling. I will need time and the gentle caress of forgiveness, of love, of acceptance to break free.

I can dance. I can swim. I can fly free. The choice is mine. No matter what I do, to be intimate, I must break open my heart and let the fresh winds of spring clear away the icy residue of the past. To live in the rapture of being alive, I must plough through the waves of caution holding me back from the waterfall of my fears. I must surrender my past and tumble freely over the abyss to fall rapturously in love with all that I am and all that I can be when I am free of my fear of living in my heart broken open in love.

What a wild and wondrous journey of life and loving I have before me.

I am blessed.

The question is: Are you jammed up against your icy heart, willing yourself to hold fast to the shores of discontent? Or, are you breaking up the ice, warming your heart upon the fires of love, melting your fear with forgiveness and tenderness and acceptance and love? Are you setting yourself free to flow into this wild and rapturous state of being alive?

Doing it differently.

Self-pity in its early stages is as snug as a feather mattress. Only when it hardens does it become uncomfortable. Maya Angelou

So, the bug has passed and I am once again on my feet. That's the thing about bugs, they come and they go, and like most things unwanted in my life, they pass on through. The only residual is a couple of days lying in bed coddling myself (in between trips to the bathroom), sleeping and doing nothing.

It is a beautiful day here in Calgary. Spring is in the air -- as it should be! On the south side of the street, outside my office window, large patches of brown grass interrupt the snowy leftovers of our last storm, and the one before that and the one before that... The sky arcs in an endless blue fading into infinity, a magpie struts across the road, searching for some piece of offal to pick at.

This was a violent flu. Time to think was minimized by writhing around in bed, willing the churning in my stomach to dissipate.

Finally, realizing that lying in bed feeling sorry for myself was not gaining me any peace of mind, I pulled out an imagery CD I bought from Winning Mind Training -- I recommend Brian Willis' Circles of Personal Excellence highly. Half an hour with Brian's voice coaching me through the process, I felt refreshed and invigorated. It's a simple process to find your 'Circle of Personal Excellence', and it's very powerful.

The moral: There is value in every situation. Giving myself a pity party only creates more pity. While it's important to 'give into' a flu bug, it's also important to keep nurturing spirit. I bought this CD a few months ago and had never taken the time to listen to it. Feeling low, I put it on and got high again on life.

The question is: What are you willing to do differently today? Are you ready for miracles to appear?

No blog today. A flu bug has gotten in the way of my being able to sit at the computer and write.

I'll be back tomorrow!

A Gentle Man

Character develops itself in the stream of life. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

We drove north. The snow had abated sometime during the night and the roads were clear. Three hours after leaving the city, we arrived at our destination. A small town courthouse where T., a client from the shelter where I work, had a date with a judge that afternoon.

The journey had not been without its highlights. My cell phone rang incessantly as friends from Choices, the personal development course T. had experienced two months previously, kept calling to wish him well, to let him know they were thinking of him, praying for him and standing with him in spirit.

T. wasn't really into talking. "I'm just plain scared," he told me somewhere between the city and our destination. "I know what I did and didn't do in this case," he said. "I will plead guilty to what I did, but I can't go down for something I didn't do."

The previous few days had been difficult. His legal aid lawyer had withdrawn from the case due to not having received any of the disclosure documents. T. couldn't ask for an adjournment. He'd already had three. He couldn't afford a lawyer of his own and there wasn't time anyway to bring someone up to speed. He chose to go it alone.

When we arrived at the courthouse, two other women were waiting for us. They had met him in Choices and were there to support him. They greeted us with hugs all around."We're here representing the whole group," one of them told him. "We're all praying for you."

The afternoon moved on. Defendants were called. Cases heard. Finally, late in the afternoon, it was Ts turn. As I was there as a character witness, I had to leave the courtroom. Nervously, T. motioned for all three of us to leave. He couldn't handle an audience.

We sat outside in the waiting room. Chatting. Watching the clock. Chatting. Sitting silently. Watching the clock. Chatting.

Finally, two hours later, a smiling T. exited the courtroom.

Suspended sentence. Eighteen months probation. His worst fear unrealized. He was not going behind bars.

"My legs are like rubber," T. exclaimed as we waited for his paperwork to be processed. A big man, tears shone in his eyes. "I'm going to be okay," he kept whispering to himself.

The phone started ringing again. Well wishes. Congratulations.

With every passing second of freedom, more and more tension lifted from his face. Finally, paperwork in hand, we drove off to meet the other two women at a coffee shop where they had gone to wait for us.

"Can we not talk about my situation?" he asked us, when he sat down.

We laughed. "Absolutely," we chimed in together. And we started sharing more stories. About life and love and living and being human.

Finally, T. and I took our departure and started driving back towards the city. Night was falling. The setting sun pulling the blanket of dusk into its warm rosy pillow nestling against the Rockies to the west.

My cellphone was out of battery and I had forgotten my charger. Music played. We sat quietly, side by side, driving into the dusk. Driving 'home'.

T. stared out the window and watched out for deer. For horses. Cattle. We drove through a native reservation. "Ok," he said. "Don't stop anywhere between here and the main highway."

I kept driving.

A few minutes later, we passed a village. A man stood at a gas pump filling his car. A woman walked hand and hand with her child. A dog trailed behind them. Lights shone in the houses nestled amongst the trees. Lawns were strewn with child playsets, snowmobiles and other country paraphenalia.

"Isn't that something," T. said. "I'm judging these people who are obviously just trying to get by in life, trying to live like everyone else, by the Natives I see downtown in the city. The ones who surround me at the shelter. Drunk. Drugged out. Begging for 'food'. (Food is street lingo for crack). I'm judging them like others judge me for being homeless. For having made a mistake."
He looked towards me. Compressed his lips into a straight line. Nodded his head up and down. "Gotta learn from my mistakes. Gotta stop judging people. Gotta start treating everyone the way I want to be treated."

Earlier he had given me twenty dollars for gas. "I don't want it," I said and tried to give it back to him.

"I want you to take it," he said.

I put it in my pocket. He was asking for what he wanted. It was something I could give him.

As we merged onto the freeway, he pointed to the gold sunset sinking behind the Rockies. "I can really enjoy that beauty now," he said. "Imagine the palette of colours you'd need to paint that." He paused. "You know I can never repay you for what you've done for me."

I took my eyes off the road for a moment and looked at him. "Every moment you live your best, you are repaying me," I said.

There's a miracle here. A man who believed he was destined to live a life of pain and turmoil, who could only express his fear through anger and addiction and acting out against the bonds of a society that constricted him, held him pinioned to a life he didn't want to live. He's learning to live up to his best self. To be the best within him every where he goes.

"I am a gentle man," he said.

"Yes you are." I replied.

His eyes grew heavy and he nodded off to sleep. I drove south. Darkness settled around us and in its depths, the promise of a new tomorrow grew with each passing moment.

A process for creating value

In every difficult situation is potential value. Believe this, then begin looking for it. Norman Vincent Peale

I have this tape that runs in my head when ever I'm involved in something and things go awry. Yesterday, my tape fired and I found myself front and centre in self-defeating gamesmanship of the ugly kind. I wanted to quit. To cry. To pack up. To run away and hide.

My tape is: It's all my fault.

The particulars of the event are not important. The realization that I was playing a self-defeating game is what makes the difference.

I'm not a good blame game player. My mind tells me, somebody has to take the blame. Don't go blaming other people for what's gone wrong. It's obviously all your fault. You may as well just accept it. In my belief that 'it's all my fault', I shut-up, shut-down and shut out possibility.

Yesterday, my game kicked in for awhile and I found myself blaming me for all that had gone wrong. I am 100% accountable for everything I do. I am not accountable for what someone else does or doesn't do. But, in my self-defeating mode, there's a narcissistic tendency to believe, 'it's all my fault'. You know, I'm the centre of the universe. All powerful. All controlling. It's all about me. It's all my fault.

That's my victim mind. That little girl who once believed she was powerless. That bad things happen to good people because they deserve it. And who, when I'm afraid of 'getting caught' immediately retreats into fear and confusion and tears.

In identifying the voice of self-abasement, I stepped back from the brink of self-defeat as I was about to tumble over the precipice. Sure, I spent a few moments stewing about doomsday scenarios of how I have precipitated the end of the universe and all that jazz. But, in acknowledging my game, I quickly drew up into focusing on what's the value in this situation. What can we do to learn from what's happened? How can we create 'better' out of 'the worst' that's happened?

In any situation gone wrong, there is a process to creating value in the moment.

The process is:

Be aware. Get conscious of what's happening inside you. What's going on? Is there a roar in your head. Is your pulse quickening. Are you tightening up. Contracting your muscles. Tensing your shoulders.

Breathe. Let oxygen fill your mind and body with its life-saving grace. Let the breath give you a moment to collect your wits about you.

Open up. Consciously invite opening up into your being. Don't close down. Open up. Think of a flower unfurling its petals with the sun's warmth. Open up to the feelings, open up to a different perspective. Open up to the possibility of change.

Step back. No matter what's going on, take a moment to step back out of the fray and breathe again. Keep opening up.

Name your feelings. Acknowledge what's going on inside. I feel... afraid. Angry. Confused. Tearful. You don't have to say it out loud, but to yourself, name what you're feeling. If you can't think of 'the name' for that feeling, call it 'confused', or unhappy, or frightened. Give it a name. Make it up if you have to. Listen to what tape is repeating itself in your head. (Tapes are the subconscious messages we've carried throughout our lives -- they're formed in childhood when we unconsciously learned from our environment feelings of fear and shame and not being loved...) Greet the tape like an old friend, embrace it and smother it with love. Smile at yourself. You're just being you when you're afraid, or tired, or worried, or.....

Engage. Engage yourself in action. If you need to take a walk for a few moments, do it. If you need to go to the washroom to collect yourself. Do it. Disconnect from the drama and engage yourself in positive action that will help you re-balance yourself. Meditation. Listening to soothing music. Call your answering machine and leave the message you want to leave the other person and then play it back to yourself five or ten minutes later -- do you really want to leave that kind of footprint on someone else's heart? Do something positive. Be proactive. If you're in a meeting and the situation gets tense, ask for a coffee break. If that's not possible, ask a question to gain understanding -- not judgement. Listen to the response. Do not let your monkey mind jump about leaping to self-defensive back-talk. Don't take it personally. Keep BREATHING.

Communicate Clearly. Once your pulse has settled down, your thinking has calmed down and your attitude has stepped down from confrontation, communicate clearly using 'I' words. Do not blame, shame, accuse. Look for opportunities to expand the situation into learning. Be clear in what you are saying -- Turn up. Pay attention. Speak your truth and stay unattached to the outcome.

Yesterday, when I found myself engaging in negative self-talk and self-blame, I breathed and opened up, and focused the group on how we could learn from the situation. I still felt the fear inside, but I had named it -- and I am a fearless woman -- my fear is just the opportunity to be courageous. To be my best self yet.

Playing self-defeating games is only a habit. And habits can be replaced with positive action when I listen to the best of me and let go of engaging in tapes that would have me believe it's all my fault. That's just me being small minded. And I am capable of so much more. We all are!

The question is: Are you prepared to change your negative habits by opening up to the best you can be?