Intent on my Relationships

I like New Year's and I like the idea of New Year's resolutions. Not the making of them. No. The making of resolutions can be scary. I mean -- seriously -- how many resolutions have I made and not kept? But I do like the 'idea' of resolutions -- like goals, they give me something to aspire to, something to work towards, to attain, to want to do to create more of what I want in my life -- challenge is, the breaking of making resolutions leaves me feelings dispirited. And so, I avoid making resolutions with the excuse -- silly things. If I'm going to break them. Why make them?

Because it's not about the resolutions I make. It's about the process I go through to create them.

It's in the self-assessment that I grow, that I find my truth, that I see where my weaknesses/soft spots/excuses have created opportunities for me to NOT live my best life yet. It's in the creating of resolutions I find myself with room to grow.

When I shift my perspective to focusing on the process of creating resolutions, I let go of the outcome and move into a healthier state of being.

One of the resolutions I've made this year comes out of spending the day with my eldest daughter yesterday.

In May of this year, she moved to Vancouver. In the process, I haven't given much thought to how I am going to live with my daughter living so far away (800 miles) I've basically just treated the distance between us as a non-issue. And yet, it is a factor in our relationship moving forward as she has no intent of ever moving back to Calgary -- and at this point in time, I'm not moving to the coast.

How am I going to keep our communication open? How do I keep the intimacy in our relationship strong so that we continue to enjoy the kind of relationship we've had? One where sharing our joys and our sorrows is central to our communication. One where I am focused on deepening our interactions -- not just letting them slide into the peripheral of surface talk that happens when I engage from my place of, I'm busy right now honey, let's chat later.

When communicating over a telephone, or SKYPE, or email, or text, 'later' can be dangerous as it's not as easy to just cuddle up and chat because you're both in the same place at the same time, or you've got ten minutes to connect, or a couple of hours to chat over a shared meal.

It's hard to be intimate when your mode of communication precludes connecting on a real and physical plane.

Unless I'm intentional in my communication, that is. Then it doesn't matter what the plane we're on, what matter is what I'm communicating, and most importantly, how engaged I am in our communication.

And that's the resolution I've made. To be 100% engaged in any communication I participate in.

With my eldest daughter that means being intentional in when we communicate AND when we communicate being focused only on our communication -- not being distracted by something I'm reading on my monitor, or doing the dishes while chatting, or whatever I do that takes me away from being 100% attentive on our conversation.

Which brings me to the core of my communication issue with my daughter -- I have not yet accepted she's moved away. That she is not physically present in the same city. Just a block or two away. Down the street, or a five minute drive away.

I still think she's at home and haven't consciously embraced this new reality.

Time to get real on the new circumstances of her life so that we can have real intimacy in our life -- as it is, not as I'm pretending it to be!

When seen through the filter of 'what do I want more of in my life?' I let go of my oppositional perspective that states, 'resolutions are stupid, nobody keeps them so why make them' to a place of balance. To that place where I know I am 100% responsible for my life. 100% accountable for what happens in it -- and from that place of accountability, I breathe deeply into my truth. If I want to have more intimacy and closeness in my relationships, I need to resolve to paying attention, being intentional and being present in my relationships, no matter where life has taken the one's I love.

Happy New Year everyone.

May your year be filled with living your best life yet. May you all enjoy a year of making a difference in everything that surrounds you, filling your world with Love.

A Year of Making a Difference (a new blog)

Light shimmers on the water. Day breaks unseen, the eastern sky hidden behind the concrete wall of the city claiming its space here at the edge of the sea.

I am in Vancouver. Sitting in the living room of my dear friend BA's apartment. She has graciously given us her home while she is away. I sit looking out over English Bay, night slowly ligthening to day.

And... I don't feel like writing this morning. I feel like meditating. Sitting. Contemplating the view. I feel like dancing. Like singing. Like swirling about and spinning around and falling to the ground in a heap of laughter and giggles and little girl elation.

Ain't Life Gtand!

We had lunch yesterday at The Sylvia Hotel, just down the waterfront from where we are staying, it is where C.C. and I stayed, and had planned on staying if offers of accommodation hadn't appeared from my girlfriend and from my sister and her husband -- how sweet is that? Two options. One in North Van. One in the Eastend. And, because Alexis, my daughter, lives and works just across the Burrard Street Bridge in Kitsalano, we opted for downtown.

We took the Aquabus across the Bay yesterday. Walked along the seafront, the sky dove grey above us. The rain would pour down later, but for our afternoon walk, it was misty and soft and oh so deliciously moist. After a prairie winter, my parched skin welcomes the moisture, soaking it in like sunshine.

There was a woman on the SkyTrain as we took the Canada Line from the airport downtown. She got on, sat beside me and promptly asked, "You visiting or coming home?" I think it might have been the suitcases piled in front of me that gave away the fact we were coming from the airport. "Visiting," I replied.

She sighed. "To grey skies. I just got back from Mexico. Two weeks in the sunshine. I need to spend more time there." And in the course of three SkyTrain stops we shared laughter and tidbits of our lives. Her 23 year old son suprrised her with welcoming her home to a clean house. She wanted a Golden Retriever but he wanted a German Shepherd. People are scared of them, you know? One woman even picked up her little white dog and foisted it up into a tree until she'd walked past with "Stella", the German Shepherd. The woman held her dog in the tree, pointed at Stella and said -- there's a bad dog. Don't come out of the tree until it's safe.

People are funny.

We make judgments. Decisions. Leap to conclusions all based on past experiences, things we've read or heard or been told by others.

Stella would never hurt even a flea, the woman told me. She's such a wuss.

And then her stop came and she struggled to her feet. Had a knee replacement last year she told me. It works great in Mexico but here. Man, the dampness gets to it. good luck. Have a great visit. Happy New Year! and she was gone. A brief encounter flowing away like the SkyTrain moving on to its next stop. Lives intersected. Stories exchanged. Moving on.

I am into moving on mode these days. Into moving beyond my fears and trepidations of 'what's next' into embracing all that is and all that can be when I move into this place where possibility exists far beyond my wildest imaginings.

One of the 'openings' I've stepped into is a new project that I will begin on January 1. It stems from a comment I made as I was chatting with a co-worker on my last day at the homeless shelter -- where I used to work :). "One of the gifts from this place," I told him, "is the fact that everyday, I knew, I was making a difference."

And I realized, what would I do to make a difference when I wasn't working there. How could I consciously shcoose, and keep, making a difference at the forefront of my mind.

And so.... I decided to bring making a difference into my consciousness everyday by making 2012 "A Year of Making a Difference."

I've set up a blog (I also set up the domain but can't quite figure out how to make it happen properly so will have to wait until I'm back at my laptop to figure that out -- I'm using my iPad while I'm away). Nevertheless, my blog is called, "A Year of Making a Difference." Everyday, I will post about one thing I did that day to make a difference in the world -- it could be as simple as choosing not to drive a car for a day to lessen my ecological footprint, or it could be as simple as buying a coffee for a stranger. The 'differences' I make will be me consciously choosing to live on purpose, to choose to do one thing everyday for someone else that is not about 'getting in return' and completely about giving.

Please join me on the journey -- the blog will go live on January 1. I am excited about the possibilities.

the address is: http://ayearofmakingadifference.wordpress.com -- there's nothing there yet. I have to work on getting it properly set up -- but it will be ready to rock and roll on the first day of 2012!

Namaste.

In the light

There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.   Edith Wharton 

Today, C.C. and I are off to Vancouver for a few days to visit my eldest daughter, a young woman who is the light, whose smile and grace reflect light at all times.

Because, in the end, no matter if we are the light or its reflection, light shares its brilliance freely -- and when we stand in the light, we become part of the light and in that becoming, light grows, darkness fades and shadows lessen.

I have a friend who is standing in the light. She is casting out the shadows, pushing back at the darkness. 

It is hard work this moving from the shadow into the light. And it is important. For even in the shadows her light has cast a beautiful brilliance on the world that radiates everywhere. That illuminates so much for others to see the wonder and beauty all around. Even in the darkness, she is the light.

Yesterday, I left the shelter for the last time. I said my good-byes, hugged and cried and drove away knowing, next time I'm there will be under different circumstances.

It was touching and it was difficult. There are so many people in that place where darkness shadows people's dreams. So many people who have touched my heart and my life and shown me how to stand in the light. Peter held my hand and told me he will always be in love with me. (I didn't know he was :) and I am touched) Gary sobbed as I hugged him. "I'm angry at you," he said. "Now everything will change."

And it will. Change. And it will. Be different. 

Just as I am different since first walking into that place in May of 2006.

I am different. I am the same. In that place  have learned to claim my light and be it. To reflect it. To share it. To cherish it.

I walk in the light. I cannot take my light away from that place. I can only carry it with me, but what light I cast while there, will be carried in the corners and the folds of the hearts and people whom I touched and who touched me. We are all different for our encounters. We are all embraced by each other. We are all 'the same', human beings on the journey of our lifetimes.

Just as my friend is different and the same since someone came into her life and tried to dim her light, turn it off, shut it out.

But no one can do that -- no one has the power to turn off our light, unless they choose to end our lives. And while living in the darkness of someone else's abuse feels like a living death, it is and always will be, their abuse. Not ours.

I am praying for my friend today. Praying and wanting her to know -- she is a light that brightens up my world everyday. Her light is filtered through love and caring and kindness and generosity and just plain old smartness. Her light is a light that illuminates hearts and minds and souls.

And, I am praying for the souls who continue to sit at the shelter hoping for light to illuminate the path away from that place where the darkness called 'homeless' shadows their every step.

I am praying for the light.

And now, I must run. I've got to tidy up the house. Undo Christmas decorations. and did I mention do laundry and pack?  Yup. I'm off to Vancouver and I've much to do before we take flight -- I was emotionally drained last night and chose to simply sit in the softness of the Christmas tree lights twinkling in the night as C.C. lay on the sofa reading and I relaxed in the reading corner, enjoying the quietness of the evening all around..

Namaste.

Maybe Next Time

My last day at the shelter. I am moving on.

Yesterday, I went down to the second floor day area to help serve lunch (the day area is a large open space with room for seating of 500+ people -- meals are served here, people can sit and watch TV, read, chat, play cards, etc.). As I walked through the tables, placing a plate of food in front of each guest, I smiled and wished people "Bon Appetit".

News of my imminent departure is everywhere.

"Hey! How can you leave us?" one woman asked.

"Everyone needs to leave this place at some point," I told her. "I figure maybe if I leave it will make space for others to leave too."

"I'm out of here next month," she said.

"I'm so glad for you," I replied.

And she stood up and hugged me. "We're going to miss you," she said.

And I told her the truth. "I'm going to miss you too."

I am going to miss the people in this place. I am going to miss the feeling of being part of humankind awash in the angst and turmoil, joy and love of being human. Of being in a place where the struggle to find the way home goes beyond one's physical address, to pierce right into the heart of our human condition.

This is a place where everyone fearlessly gathers up the broken pieces to carefully fit each delicate shape into a tapestry of life that is taped, and woven, and stitched and stapled and glued together to complete a portrait of a life flowing from whole to broken to whole again and in and out and around all that makes us human.

There are a lot of broken hearts, beat up dreams and shattered illusions at the shelter. And always, there is Love.

I felt it yesterday as I served lunch with two families who make it their tradition to come in as a group and help out for a day every holiday season.

I felt it walking through the tables chatting and laughing with the people we serve.

I felt it standing at the back of the room with a staff member chatting about 'next moves'.

And I felt it when a young woman came running up to throw her arms around my neck and say, "I'm back."

"It's lovely to see you," I replied. "But I'm sorry to see you here."

"Yeah, me too," she responded. And then she laughed, shrugged her shoulders. "I did well this time. I lasted on the outside a whole year, all by myself. Maybe I'll do better next time."

She did do well. She told me once that all her troubles came because of men in her life. To last a year on 'the outside' alone is a remarkable feat for her.

And I am reminded -- Baby steps. Baby steps. Maybe next time she'll feel less like she is on the outside looking into to a world where everyone else knows where they belong. Maybe next time, she'll get lucky and find that place inside where she is always at home and never has to come back to this place to get in from the cold because outside is so much warmer and welcoming.

And until that time, I am grateful there is this place where those who feel 'the outside' is not a welcoming and sustainable environment have a place to come home to for as long as they need it.

And yes, I am going to miss this place.

And yes, I know I'll be okay, because working here I have learned there is no better place to be than in my heart. And if home is where the heart is, there's no place like home when I surrender and fall in Love.

********************************************

In a world of this time it'll be different, where the belief of next time I'll be lucky, reigns like stardust scattered across a dark sky, there is always a next time, always a chance to do it different, make it happen, have luck on your side. In honour of all the 'next times' out there, I went in search of one of my all time favourite songs -- from the 1972 hit Cabaret, Liza Minnelli sings, "Maybe Next Time".

(and I laughed as I watched her sing. Most of my life I've been told -- you look just like Liza Minnelli. It's funny, I never really saw it and as she started to sing I thought, "maybe this time".  Nope.... but, there's always next time.)

One world. One humankind. One word.

The New Year is approaching. Just five sleeps away, it looms upon the horizon of a new year dawning.

What about the last?

At Abbey of the Arts, Christine Valters Paintner invites everyone to let a word find them and to meditate on that word throughout the year.

Last year, my word was Renewal.  I was intrigued by this word. Intrigued and somewhat flummoxed. What was I to renew? My faith? In God? In humanity? In trusting in the moment?

It was, I realize as this year draws to a close, all of that, and more.

2011 was the year of renewing my belief in Love. In the beauty of One. In the power of humankind. In the fragility and possibility of one moment.

It was the year of coming home to my heart, in finding myself at peace within me, no matter where in the world peace was being challenged, coming apart or falling to pieces.

It was in the pieces I found myself connecting to the One. It was in the pieces I found my belief strengthening.

I believe this is a world of wonder. A world of possibility. A world, broken and abused, by humankind, not some 'other' but we, the human beings who inhabit this planet are creating the havoc we witness in our world.

Sure, there are storms and eruptions of the earth and other natural disasters. But the greatest disaster of all is the harm and pain we cause eachother upon this planet, and the devastation we cause to this giant ball spinning through space. We hurtle through space, orbiting the sun and drawing ever closer to its heat through the tearing away of the protective membranes that keep our world from burning up. And through it all we tell ourselves, 'we are invincible'. We are humankind. We will live forever.

Maybe. But not in this world. No, forever after comes on some distant plane of another's creation.

In this world, we are the destroyers and the builders. We are the war-makers and the peace-keepers. We are the killers and the creators. The haters and the Lovers.

We are the only one's making Love. The only one's making War.

We are one planet. One people. One world.

When will we renew our belief in humankind? When will we step into Love and let go of killing one another?

The New Year is but five sleeps away.

It's never too late to change direction.

Never too late to choose Love, not hatred. Peace, not war. It's never too late to have a change of heart. Never too late to forgive.

As I look back on 2011 I see a year of growth. Of moments of turmoil and many more moments of grace than I can count.

It is in those moments I focus my attention. It is in those moments of grace I am renewed. And as my spirit is renewed, my word for 2012 calls stronger to my heart -- Suppleness.

Yes. to let go of rigid thinking. To let go of judgment and criticism. To be soft and gentle in my approach in the coming year.

What's your word?

AND -- once you've found your word, please share it here, and/or, at Abbey of the Arts.

Namaste.

Love sparkles all around

 
It is Boxing Day morning. The house slumbers -- which makes sense as 'the other's' chose to stay up and play boardgames until the wee hours while I opted for my bed around 11. The second load of dishes is going through the dishwasher, the living room is cleared -- except of course for the sparkly glitter that litters the living room rug, and most surfaces. It shot out of the plastic cap guns C.C. bought for the stockings -- they're filled with tiny nerf balls, he told me as we wrapped presents Christmas Eve and watched both the original and the 1994 version of Miracle on 34th Street.

He was mistaken. They're filled with tiny pieces of confetti glitter which we discovered yesterday morning while unwrapping gifts. Ryan, Liseanne's boyfriend, dug through his stocking, found the cap gun and pop! A loud bang ensued followed by tiny bits of multi-coloured pieces of confetti falling all around.

Place Card Treasure Boxes

It was rather funny (and pretty) -- and C.C. did vacuum it all up. But then, after dinner, after my mother and sister and her husband had left. After Taylor, C.C.s son's, girlfriend arrived and the board games were hauled out, a battle ensued -- who could startle the person beside them the most by popping a cap gun. Needless to say, the living room is littered with tiny pieces of coloured tinfoil sparkling all around -- it does look pretty and Liseanne has promised to vacuum it all up before she and Ryan leave for Ryan's hometown two hours away where they will redo Christmas all over again tonight.

It was a good Christmas -- and a sad one. For the first time since she was born 25 years ago, my eldest daughter Alexis wasn't here.

And I missed her terribly. Even as I type this I fear the sadness, and the tears.

Centre Piece

I had a theme for dinner last night. Treasures. I painted and glittered up small treasure chests and inside each one placed a heart with the name of each guest. These were the placecards telling people where they were to sit, and even more, telling them of what a treasure they are in my life. In the centre of the table I placed a big star shaped box that I filled with beads and jewels.

Pre-dinner snoozes

And the kitty guards the pop gun

Family and friends are my greatest treasure I told everyone. At this table are the people I treasure most -- except Alexis was missing and though she did come visit on Skype, it was not the same. I am so very grateful for the pre-Christmas dinner we had when she came for my birthday earlier this month. And, C.C. and I are flying to Vancouver on Thursday to spend a few days with her as well as my sister and hopefully my dear friend BA. Both Anne and BA were at the pre-Christmas dinner -- keeping the circle connected.

It's the thing about Christmas, about family, about our world. These days we are so mobile, so far flung at times, it's hard to get everyone together at one time.

I guess this Christmas is a foretelling of years to come, when both girls, and C.C.'s son and daughter too, take off to visit the world and find themselves in places far away on that very special day of the year.

And so, I carry them in my heart. Now and always. In my heart they are always present, even when I can't wrap my arms around them and say, I love you. They are in my heart and my heart always knows, Love is all it can carry.

And while this Christmas felt like a hole was in my heart missing a child who has brought me such joy and love and laughter and tears and beauty, my heart can only be filled with Love and gratitude for her presence in my life.

Thank you Mr. Turkey

Jackie and Mum

I am blessed. And I am grateful. And I am weary -- and that's okay. Today is a day to relax. To feel the house settle around me again. I sit in the quiet of morning, the tree lights sparkle. Music plays softly in the background and I take a deep breath as grace descends and Love sparkles all around.

Merry Christmas!

And so this is Christmas.

Tiny white lights twinkle on the tree, the balls and stringed boughs of tiny glass beads glitter. And at the top of the tree, the angel, wings spread wide, heralds in good tidings of comfort and joy. Beneath the tree, brightly wrapped parcels are stacked as Ellie sleeps on guard at the edge of the treasures yet to be uncovered.

I sit in candlelight. The house wrapped in a warm, blanket of sleep, The chanting of Stile Antico playing softly in the background.

There is peace in my world.

May there be peace in yours.

Merry Christmas my friends. Your presence here throughout the year has added joy and laughter to my world. Your presence is the present of friendship, of shared experience, of Love.

Thank you everyone!

Merry Christmas. May the blessings of this holy season fill your world with wonder. May you know the Love the Christchild brings every year as we celebrate this holy of days together. No matter our faith. No matter our skin tone, or political affiliations. No matter the depth of our pockets or the thickness of the soles of our shoes, may we all be united today, and everyday, through Peace. Hope. Love and Joy.

Wishing you and your world the blessings of this season of joy.

And... A Christmas Eve song for everyone.

I was moved in the midst of the chaos of gift-buying and wrapping and preparing for this day, to write a song of Advent.  It was, as they say, the spirit moving within me for I know not where the song came from. And then, I decided to record it, me singing my words -- to allow myself to be vulnerable in that moment of creating and to share my song with you.

Namaste.



20111223 162024 by Louiseg88
The Advent of the Christchild

Christmas Eve looms

bright as a star

shining on high

guiding

shepherds

wisemen too

to the one they seek

Allelluia

Allelluia

a savior’s born

of Mary

hark the herald

angels sing

this child will bring

Peace.

Hope and Love

this child will bring

Peace.

Hope and Love

Mary in dark

manger lies

swaddling the babe

while Joseph stands guard

and angels sing

on high

Alleluia

alleluia

a savior’s born

of Mary

Oh sinner man

fall down on bended knee

this child has come

to free your soul

and set your spirit free

Alleluia

alleluia

a savior’s born

of Mary

  

Good tidings reign

o’er the land

and constellations

shimmer

a child is born

to save the world

and angels sing on high.

Alleluia

alleluia

a savior’s born

of Mary

Alleluia

alleluia

a savior’s born

of Mary