Back From Black…

Colours.jpgThere is so much going through my brain. It’s exhausting! Thank heavens for meditation. Usually I’m pretty mindful, too, but presently I’ve got to be conscious of it. In other words, I have to work at it. My innards are like a kaleidoscope, whirling and turning. I don’t know how else to describe it, though that sums it up well enough. A swirling, jumbled mass of movement. At least it’s colourful.

Thankfully, my outside world is filled with a more ordered array. The grey concrete streets are bordered by deep green boulevards dotted with bright yellow dandelions. Wild cherry, white and pure, buttery dogwood, redbud and apple tree blossoms delight. Azaleas in full bloom, rhododendrons ready to follow suit, daffodils stand beside tulips, and everywhere else, from my neighbour’s willow to the numerous maples, trees are erupting in every shade of green. I’m happy about this new life and must concentrate my energies on renewal, which reminds me. Yesterday, as I walked to the café, an eagle soared above me close enough to touch. Okay, well not that close, but I could see its eyes!

The owner arrives today to kit up the house. So far, I’ve made due rather well. I’ve a single bed that’s slightly more comfortable than the floor, a fitted sheet, one pillow and case, a child’s sleeping bag that is too small, lots of towels, and one lonely dishcloth. There was dish detergent and Mr. Clean left in the kitchen and I was pleased about the rolls of toilet paper in the bathroom. I look forward to a proper comforter for my little bed and the pure luxury of a washer and dryer. A pot and pan and some more cutlery would be ideal, too. I can do without the microwave she’s promised, but if she has it, I’ll enjoy it.

She’d written the house needed cleaning and that she would take care of it this weekend. I’ve done it, needless to say. It was quite clean actually. Nothing a good dust and wipe of the floors couldn’t take care of. In the initial ad, there was mention of some yard work. There is no lawnmower, no tools of any kind in the shed, and after seeing the state the lawn is in, I’m hopeful she’ll decide to hire it out. The yard is big and awkward so I’m keeping my fingers crossed she’ll pass on purchasing all the stuff I’d need, and put the cash toward a professional. I’ll let you know.

These distractions are good for me today. In my last post I said I was down but that regardless of my mood, I’d “get up”. I’ve done as promised and am soldiering through the day so far. Those feelings did not abate with sleep so I remain a bit blue. Today’s mood is familiar, though and so I’ll acknowledge the existence of difficult emotions without letting them get a grip. However, they are strong.

A depressive’s mind is a dark and sorrowful place mostly. It is not an evil place, but rather it’s a subjectively pessimistic realm where beauty is watched from a distance. All the colour, all the great and glorious magic of this universe exists, but can only be accessed by others. A depressive is not worthy of any of it. They can only see it, never touch or hold it. Today, vivid memories of that place bring with them a staggering amount of pain.

The “me” that recalls that contrary place is delicate and shaky. I hold vulnerability as a shield against feelings of shame and regret. I can barely muster the courage to defy the old voices that want me to believe my life has been a folly having neither given nor received love. They laugh at my belief in dreams and wishes telling me they are absurd and, like me, superfluou

I can feel her intensely, the “me” of memory that lived in that world. She was lonely and misunderstood. She overflowed with an invisible compassion for all of life, but especially the marginalized and disenfranchised. She harboured an immeasurable desire to give and receive love. But the darkness swallowed her, swallowed all of her.

Today, as I speak with her, the “me” of memory, I want her to know she is forgiven. I want her to feel she can forgive herself. She cannot make right, she cannot relive, she cannot redo. She can only forgive and try to live in the light of this moment, in the light that takes full responsibility her life and places no blame. Oh, and I want her to give herself a piece of that love she felt so deeply for others. She deserves it. We all do.

My wish for you all today is that you remember your beauty, your child-like innocence and purity. No matter what has unfolded over time on your journey that singular sacredness remains. Look for it. Hold it. Cradle it and let yourself return to the place of co-creation that brought you here. Just for a second, let yourself feel it. Breathe it in deeply. It is a place of infinite possibility. It is Love and, as always, it is the healer, the balm, and the answer.

Until tomorrow…

Addicted…

Streets.jpgWell, not having easy access to Internet is killing me. I have to hike a bit to get it and the walking is doing me a world of good of course, but the new surroundings are distracting and you know me and my penchant for distractions. I have to settle in, though; establish a routine. I’ve been here since Monday night so the clock ticks steadily, relentlessly marking my time. It cares nothing about my needs despite any protestations. I just have to get focussed and do what I said I would do here which is finish the book. I am determined! But tonight I’m all about the blog because I realised today how quickly (and easily) I strayed from this month’s topic.

I’ve an addiction I can’t own. Until I do I fear it will plague me. Someday I’ll gather the courage to talk about it or maybe I should not talk about how much I’ve hurt myself. Instead, maybe I should forgive myself and move on. In this moment, although there is shame, I can tell myself I am valuable and worthwhile despite my weakness. I can say how much I love my mind and my body and that I am as determined to continue to do so as I am to finish “On the Seventh Day”. If I fall down, I simply need to get up.

Ending this post on that note of ‘getting up’ would make sense, but I’ve a couple of thoughts to share with you all before I wrap up.

Wandering around in the sun today, trying to lock down a spot to write and looking for advice regarding an internet connection, my heart became heavy. I am so very small in this place of mountain peaks and ancient forests. I have come from a place with the smallest roads to one with the widest streets I’ve ever seen. I’m told one reason for their size is to accommodate the massive logging trucks, but I don’t know if that’s true. All I know is I find the scale of the roads disconcerting. Their pale grey emptiness is a challenge for me. Of course, some people would love it.

Most wanderers plan ahead. They map out their journey from beginning to end. With a single mind and committed belief in my vision, I headed off several years ago with a somewhat open-ended plan, never dreaming I would find myself here. I am quite terrified, if truth be told. No doubt, I have proved my resourcefulness and ability to step off travelling into the void, but these adventures people persist in saying I’m on, are not what I’d recommend. And yet, it’s my life. I have to own it and if it’s not working for me, I need to change it.

So, to that end, my wish tonight is to return to my temporary abode and get some rest. I’ll likely have a profound cry before falling asleep and in the morning, regardless of how I feel, I’ll get up and try to make sense of a life that right now, quite rightfully, feels non-sensical. But it’s all okay. I’m breathing, and I have shelter. The sun is shining still and Mount Arrowsmith’s fog has lifted showing off its snowy white peaks. It will watch over me tonight.

Until tomorrow…

Arriving…

ArrowsmithI wrote most of this 3 days ago. It’s taken me 3 whole days to get find a quiet spot with Wi-Fi so I could post it.

Sitting in the arrivals area at an almost deserted ferry station has me thinking about all the different ways we travel and how cities and towns arrange to transport people where they want or need to go. The island I’m currently on is 4xs smaller than England, for example, with less than ¾ million people compared to the 53+ million England purports to have. Travelling around Europe is fairly easy with a variety of ways available to get you from point A to point B. Ground transport can be more be costly than airfares which are beyond reasonable. Recall my 10 pound ticket to Ireland? Here, however, it’s the opposite with the cost of air travel being steep. In fairness, though, Canada’s population is small compared to other parts of the world and the country, vast. In fact, that I can get to where I’m heading via public transportation at all, is a gift.

Ah, it appears another ferry has arrived. The taxi cabs lining up was a first clue. People are making their way out the automatic doors marked “Do Not Enter” toward the parking lot. Some are carrying those luscious blended drinks from that coffee company (ahem) making me even hungrier than I am. I skipped breakfast figuring I’d have a chance to eat along the way but I’ve not done so. My mind is drumming up pictures of smoothies and mixed lettuce salads. Hopefully I’ll find some place to eat once in town. It shouldn’t be long now. As if on cue, I see my bus pulling into the parking lot. After a look at my ticket, the driver takes my bags and I board.

The hour and half ride takes us through some pretty spectacular scenery supplied in part by the Vancouver Island Range, a sub-range of the Insular Mountains. As we climb, the wilderness closes in but as we begin the descent, I can see what will be my neighbour for the next few months, Mount Arrowsmith. At almost 6000 feet, she is still snow covered. I’m happy about the views because the town itself is not particularly pretty. Hopefully I’ll find other redeeming qualities about it soon, but at first glance it looks as tired as I feel.

So, tomorrow will be busy enough getting settled in. As for right now, I need some food and a good night’s sleep. I’m still struggling with time zones and which side I’m on, but that will sort itself soon enough.

My wish tonight is for happy travels where ever you might be going. Whether it’s to the grocery store or the Isle of Capri, it matters not. Take your time. Breathe deeply. Enjoy. Be present in the moment. Life is a glorious and good thing most of the time. Travel with it rather than against it. That is a key to happiness.

Until tomorrow…

Accept

DeepCoveThis last move took a toll on me. In spite of it all, I feel good and I’m happy. Seeing my beautiful western daughter and sweetest pea of a granddaughter in this diverse city with its awe inspiring views and fresh mountain air is a blessing, but I’m worn out. Not physically, oddly, but in every other way. Today, I realised I’ve been holding a lot of resistance over having to leave England. The realisation helped bring my energy up a bit which is maybe why I’m writing tonight. I’ve just been too tired since leaving Ireland. In fact, the last attempt was in the restaurant at my hotel in Calgary. The post would have been decent, too, but I somehow deleted it which is what I get for working on my phone. Anywho, it’s all okay. In fact, it’s all more than okay and I’ve remained calm, cool, and even a bit collected. What’s missing is the inclination to write. Thankfully, stories are lining up in my head. It’s just that even now it’s a struggle to put something down. I’m not concerned, though, because the wheels are turning and ideas crystallising. The break, however brief, might actually be working some magic for me.

My wish tonight is for unconditional acceptance. This is a tough one. When things are not what we want them to be, when people are not as we expect them to be, we redefine them in our mind. We say “If only they would drink less, quit smoking, do this, or do that, they would be happier, better.” Hm. Maybe they would be, but it’s us that would be happier because we are displeased by their actions. We are judging, not accepting the person without placing conditions on them and by default, us. If I truly love another person, I love them exactly as they are in that moment. Period. Yep, unconditional is tough but if I expect to be loved as I am, I’d better start trying to return the favour.

Until tomorrow…

 

It’s All You Need…

LovedMore promises broken. Drat. Oh well, it cannot be helped. I have to get from point A to point B and while there are some long layovers, to promise any posts would be wrong. So, I will sign off until the 16th or 17th. Of course, I’ll not be idle and who knows, maybe after a brief break, I will be absolutely inspired. One can only hope.

Tonight, as always, I have a wish. This one is big. It is the alpha and the omega of wishes, with no omega because it is everlasting. It goes on, and on, and on. It is the driving force, the single purpose, and the purest intention. It is the heart’s desire, the reason for human beings to be. It is Love. I wish you oodles of it. I wish it to come at you from the pit of your stomach, from each beat of your heart, and each breathe that you take. I want you swimming in it, receiving all the gifts of it as if through osmosis. And when you are saturated, full to the brim and about to explode, let it go. Give it away.

Until tomorrow…

Plans…

PortAlberniA lot can change overnight. A lot can change in an instant. Time, eh? When I left Canada, determined to reside in England, it was early winter, 2015. I knew I’d return, I just couldn’t say when having to turn over my passport and all. Eight weeks ago, I was escorted through Gatwick Airport by a pleasant, chatty immigration officer whose job it was to escort me to the other side of security before handing back said passport. The Home Office had decided I didn’t deserve residency and so I had to leave the UK. I felt displaced and resented everything that was happening. The only reprieve for me was a bright, welcoming place to stay not too far away.

Ireland had never been on my radar, but coming here felt easy, not to mention close. My UK daughter and my wonderful friends were just a short flight, or ferry ride away. Of course, I’ve not seen any of them since I’ve been here, but that’s understandable. I hadn’t planned to leave any more than they had considered planning a trip to Eire. But it’s all good. I’ll be gone in less than two days.

So, I wrote yesterday that while a move was imminent, there was no solid plan. That’s all changed. I now have a ticket, a gracious and kind early morning escort to the airport, and a few accommodations booked and waiting for my arrival. The first one is a very affordable room for two nights. I knew full well that after preparing to leave and then travelling for 32 hours, I’d need to relax and decompress. Are you asking yourself where I’m going that it takes that long? I sort of gave you a hint. Anywho, it’s not distance as much as time. The best rates often are so because layovers are mixed in. That doesn’t bother me. I’m just very happy I could buy a ticket at all.

My final destination is a house sit in picturesque village. I’ll be settled for 3 1/2 months or so but busy making plans. Can I execute them all? Only time will tell.

My wish is that any habits, patterns, or practices holding you back, keeping you down, or making you feel yucky, be released or transformed. I wish that we all see and consciously choose to rise above what restricts us and keeps us from feeling free. We can, you know. We just have to believe.

Until tomorrow…

Islands in Storms…

PackingPacking in earnest today though I still do not know where I’m going. There’s been no ticket bought, no room rented. There is no plan. The only thing I know for certain is that a move is imminent and that this is the first time I’ve never had a place to go. It’s exciting and terrifying but I’ll happily not ever go through this again and that means I need to do some major tweaking.

Let’s assume I’ve been addicted to drama most of my life. Let’s also assume the uncertain situation I find myself in currently is related to that addiction for histrionics even though I’m not addicted to them anymore. How so? Well, whatever you focus your energy and thought on, builds momentum toward that end, but with me being generally all over the map about so many things, confusion reigns. The more I try to calm down, the more chaos seems to enter my world. But, what if I’m actually being shoved and pushed and prodded toward something I’ve asked for?

I’ve said on more than one occasion, “I did not ask for this”, but in point of fact, I probably did. What’s happening in apparently random fashion could well be a series of highly coordinated events to get me where I wanted to go and deliver what I asked for. I just am not quite there yet. But getting there is delivering plenty of drama. All old patterns still in the loop.

Maybe I should have been more specific about requests. I sure try to be clear now, let me tell you. But, then again, maybe we’re just not evolved enough yet to manifest smoothly. Whatever the case, the mission before me now is to focus every ounce of energy, and most every single thought, on resolving the two primary problems facing me so I can put an end to what I’m going though as quickly as possible and head off in a different direction, preferably one that is better planned. I also see a home in my present life. Home sweet home.

One thing that will surely help is this blog. I am forced to examine my process, and lately I realise I am still all over the place. It’s okay in some respects. I am who I am, but living like this is not reasonable. Further, I can’t be of much service to anyone or anything when I’m always in flux. It keeps the drama alive, too.

My wish tonight is for clarity and a bit of magic. I asked specifically for a gift today. I prayed and my words were precise. My meditation was uplifting and I sent intentions during it. No matter what happens to me, one thing remains constant. I believe. In the midst of uncertainty I do not doubt that I can cope with any situation. I will discover my options. I believe.

Until tomorrow…

 

And She Is Off, Almost!

TravelWhen I finished Limitless (my post, not the movie) less than two hours ago, I was flying. Exuberant, I got up and began the sorting process. It’s what I do when I’m leaving a place and preparing for next steps. Carefully, piece by piece, I examine the few items of clothing I have to decide whether they will travel with me or end up in a charity shop.

For less than $20 dollars, I bought a new-to-me trench coat in Dublin. It will travel. I quite like it, but that means I’ve added weight. Nothing worse than being over what’s allotted for baggage at an airport check-in so a few things must go. A pair of cargo pants (that I really like) almost fell off the last time I wore them. Gangsta is my least favourite style so they can start the “for charity” pile. My good mood helps make this often nerve wracking job easier. There’s a pair of shoes that I shouldn’t have brought in the first place, two more pairs of trousers I’ve grown out of, some t-shirts and a sweater. There might be more. Hurray.

Next comes the toiletries. I dispose of packages when possible. My razor and blades go in a shoe along with other small items like jewellery and socks. I always stuff the shoes, then bag them in shopping bags I can use for groceries later on. Of course, all the liquid-y creamy stuff must be checked but can weigh me down, so I have to careful about balancing the load between suitcases. If it’s a long flight, a change of clothes, packaged wet wipes, travel size toothpaste and brush along with peppermint and lavender essential oils in the clear baggy, are placed on top. The oils help me feel relaxed and fresh no matter how long I have to hang about on the ground, or in the air.

The almost empty stuff gets used or left behind, of course. My carry on is usually packed to the brim but is seldom over the limit and not always even weighed. I figure they take a look at me and figure it can’t be too heavy if I intend to hork it over my head into the storage compartments. Haha. Little do they know! Regardless, I always attempt to get it right weight wise. It’s not easy. I’m not on holiday, you know. I’m carrying clothes and a few incidentals to keep me for 6 months or more and without a set of scales, it’s easy to get it wrong, which I have. That’s why I carry a purse the size of Nova Scotia.

And so, it’s almost done. I’ve assigned certain items to new locations and designated others to the bin. Now, I wait with bated breath to find out where I’m going.

Ah, you thought I knew, didn’t you? Nope, not yet, but hopefully very, very soon.

Tonight’s wish if for stability and the security of a place to call ‘home’. Wandering can be fun, but only when it’s a desire. When it is forced upon you, and you feel you are trapped, running away, or being pushed, it’s awful. Those wanderers who are displaced, live in fear. They are often scorned, looked down up, and marginalized. They might end up disenfranchised and as such, become voiceless. Let’s strive to salvage any soul we think suffering this way. It might be easier than you think. Check out with this city did. http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/calgary/medicine-hat-homeless-free-update-1.3949030

Until tomorrow…

Limitless

LimitlessWow, I’m falling behind in a big way. Please accept my apologies which come accompanied by an unceremonious kick (more of gentle shove) to my bony arse. A promise is, after all, a promise. Thing is, I’m struggling to do everything I’ve promised to do, and include a few things I’d like to do. How do I fit it all in?

Well, the first thing that pops into the ole noggin is that I need to stop my long-practiced tradition of avoidance, or uber-procrastination if you prefer. That means cutting out distractions like trolling on social media sites, and playing Candy Crush into the wee small hours. Ooh, a sloth just appeared on top of those thought bubbles. Drat. While I LOVE them, I must not BE one. Oh, the anguish of good-byes! And speaking of good-byes, they can be pretty addictive. Really? Yep, like anything we do, we can become hypnotized by the feelings attached to an act and seek to replicate the experience even if it is destroying us.

In my case, I was introduced to good-byes at a pre-conscious awareness stage. Those who read my blog faithfully, savouring each nugget of wisdom and humour filled anecdote within its luxurious prose, (ahem) know I am an adoptee. From the get go and through to around my thirtieth birthday, life was littered with good-byes. They virtually stopped, thank heavens, after I buried my father.

Of course, there were hellos, too. I was not a hermit. But did those endings, and the feelings evoked by them, become a type of addiction? Was there a sub-conscious desire to replicate those experiences in my everyday life because I expected them, or because I thought they were necessary somehow? My life thus far would suggest “yes” is the answer to that question, which makes me shudder. My goodness, expressing my life based on good-byes. How horribly tragic. How sad. The good news is I have caught it, and can, therefore, change it.

Over the past few years, I’ve jammed in a load of good-byes. They differed from the foundational ones because they weren’t permanent, even if at first, I reacted to them that way. In retrospect, I can see what I was doing. Currently, I can see I am in the process of changing responses. More, and more, I see that “hello” remains possible in every instance. Once again, it’s about perspective and, of course, changing my story accordingly.

Let me be clear, though. When I talk about telling a new story, I’m not devising a fictional narrative. A new spin should not deny or attempt to eradicate an event. The unfathomable pain my birth mother surely felt when she handed me to strangers, is as real as the feelings and images embedded in me via my infantile senses. The memory of painted and powdered faces adorned in their Sunday best at “repose” on ecru coloured satin leaves me as cold as the bodies inside those coffins, and their loss will forever be felt. But, and this is where it gets really good, I can alter add some sweet to the bitter.

If in my mind I hold that woman close to me, I hear a barely perceptible heartbeat, a sound shared only between mother and child. In the stillness, I feel her blood pulsing. Her rhythmic breathing soothes me. There is oneness and magic in this intangible memory that takes my breath away, and with it, the sadness of a forever farewell.

And so, it is with all the past’s goodbyes. I can recall the laughter and the fights. I can choose to see only love and life in all of it. I can choose to write a new story that encompasses the good-byes, while still saying hello.

Today I wish for the strength and presence of mind I need to embrace everything in my crazy, wild, messed up life on this tumultuous, glorious, chaotic, and sometimes scary-as-heck planet. I am as equally lost as I am found. I am flawed perfection. My wealth knows no bounds, my love is unconditional. I seek with relentless hope, a divine peace, a gracious prosperity, and joy for us all. Not too much to ask because I believe with every fibre of my being that our potential is limitless. So there!

Until tomorrow…

 

 

To Distraction…

DistractionI know I’m behind. Two posts, I think. In fairness, I’m distracted. Moving has me distracted. Staying put has me distracted. Fear is distracting me. Having to plan next steps has me distracted. Knowing what I need but not how to get it, has me distracted. Confusion is distracting. I’m a mass of six elements now filling these pages with excuses because it distracts me from my distractions. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve questions I cannot find answers for. I’ve problems and seek solutions. I’m looking for the way and seem blind.

The book is flourishing despite these distractions which tells me that I’m not addicted to distraction, at least. Thank heavens for the story’s protagonist. She’s tenacious, determined to tell her story. She haunts me in and out of the distractions. I like her a lot. I miss her when we don’t speak. She is everything I am not. Writing about her helps me. It gives me purpose amid the chaos and desolation of relentless distractions. But the blog isn’t so lucky. It’s increasingly hard to be honest. I am too distracted. Ahem. But, it is forcing me to deal with my addiction to histrionics, because I am so over the drama I create!

There’s no need to elaborate too much on that. I’m very aware of my pattern and desperately tired of it. But like, “Groundhog Day” I’m making changes. Any day now there should be a breakthrough. Hey, maybe some of the bloody distractions will get sorted when that happens. Wouldn’t that be lovely. Fingers crossed it happens soon.

Wishing tonight for a sudden warm wind. I am a bit over the cold right now. Wishing for a light. The dark is very dark. Wishing for the answer to a long asked question. I know it’s out there just waiting for me to find it. It’s the “when you least expect it” scenario that I’m wishing for tonight because giving up is not an option.

Until tomorrow…