Me and KD Lang… we’ll just be meditating over here.

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Meditation huh? I have recently downloaded the new free app promoted by KD Lang called Stop, Breathe and Think. It’s interesting.  I tried it out for the first time last night using the “commonality of suffering” meditation. Seems like an odd place to start but given the events in my life over the past six months it seemed reasonable. A very calm voice led me through a 6 minute meditation focusing on breath, on imagery, and on empathy. Imagine how it must feel to lose everything… put yourself in the place of someone whose family and home have been destroyed by a storm.  That’s big stuff for a six minute meditation but I am a novice, so can’t say yet whether it’s too much or just a lot to contemplate in that context and time frame.

Anyway, I’m going to try it again. It’s a free app and I’ve got time on my hands. The commonality of suffering is probably not where I’d like to focus all my attention, but I can see that many of the meditations listed (the longest is about 10 minutes) are of a more positive tone like those entitled Kindness, Equanimity (I guess it’s as good a time as any to figure out what that word means), Joy and Great Compassion. I could use more of all those in my life and would do well to share more of those things too. There’s a great check-in screen that invites you to choose up to 5 adjectives to describe how you’re feeling, then suggests meditations that might be meaningful or relevant.

The truth is I grew up fearing meditation; my mother’s warnings about the risks of transcendental meditation and the obvious link between meditation and certain death by fire (soaked with gasoline) ring loudly in my ears even now. I’ll do my best to avoid long haired men in caftans (think Rasputin in a dress) when plugging in my ear buds; if I see any lurking in the shadows with a jerry can I’ll definitely reconsider the meditation and consider a sprint instead. Joking aside, meditation is still a bit “new age” and “flakey” to many. I’m going to try to overcome that and silence the lingering doubts.

I don’t know if meditation is going to work for me. I’m a rapid processor… my mind has been referred to as a pinball machine in the past, whizzing and bouncing, rebounding and doubling back with bells and flashing lights, zany music and strobe effects. I’d do well with more focus, less zing. If KD Lang is willing to help, I’m all for it. I really dig KD Lang. If KD Lang says meditation will help me gain clarity, peace and inner tranquility, I’m going to listen. Actually, if KD Lang tells me pretty much ANYTHING, I’m going to listen. And if a ten minute meditation once a day really will help me “become more mindful and compassionate”, then cool. Nice to know there’s an app for that. I could certainly use my own “forcefield of personal calm and peace”.

The organization called Tools for Peace is behind the app. Tools for Peace™ teaches people of all ages how to develop and apply kindness and compassion in their daily lives” says their site. That’s a good objective, and any methods likely encourage compassion and participation are good. I’m going to give this app a try and see what happens. I’ve always wanted to try meditation, maybe this will be my starting point.

And KD…. if you’re listening? I’ll meditate with you any day.

This is KD Lang at a concert in Vegas a couple of years ago, holding the magazine I offered her from Yukon… my home. She and I are pretty much best friends now.  While the image quality is not awesome, the quality of the image is pure awesome!

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Same me. New calendar.

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And so the inward looking begins…or continues… in search of meaningful & achievable resolutions. Pointless to say I will exercise more and eat less, folly to suggest I can change much about how I process my external world. I’d be lying to myself if I vowed to drink less red wine and avoid chocolate and cussing.

I need smaller resolutions, tiny resolutions that will be little stones in a giant pond. I need to find tiny ways to alter how I give myself to the world, to my family, to those I love. I need little itty bitty meditative alterations that will smooth the painful bristles of my coat, that will make me more huggable and less of a systemic shock to those whose well being matters most.

I want to be gentle. I want to be kinder. I want to be more loving, more giving, more forgiving, more forgivable. I want to be soft. I want to be feather soft. I wish to be a balm, a soothing salve rather than a burn, a wound, an abrasion.

I don’t know where these new ways of being live. I don’t know where to find them. I want to.

I want to.

It’s a new year. This year there is no hollering, no kicking of cans. This year there is only quiet retreat, a catch in the throat, a throb behind my left eye. I wish things I can’t give, I’ve given things I can’t reclaim.

It’s almost a new year. It’s almost a new…

No, it’s the same me on a new calendar page unless I can find a new path.

And the stone is about to fall, and the pond is about to ripple.

So happy new year.

 

And They will Change the World

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I recently met a young woman who has, by the strength of her conviction and passion, challenged the way I see the world and my place in it.

At 22 years old, Morgan Wienberg is co-founder of  Little Footprints Big Steps.  She has created a safe place for street children in Haiti; a transitional home to help them reintegrate into their families when possible. She has worked with international donors to help these children find hope, safety, health and education. The families of these children are poor. Many were tricked into turning their children over to orphanages in order for them to have an education, a better life.  It seems the more starving children an orphanage can show to the world, the higher the income of the orphanage owner. In Haiti many orphanages are run by profiteers who abuse the children, pocket the aid and sell whatever goods are donated by international aid groups. Morgan saw this when she did an internship in an orphanage and it changed the course of her life.  She has now spoken at the United Nations, is legal guardian to several Haitian children and has had a profound impact on the lives she has touched…mine included.

When I listened to Morgan’s presentation a few weeks ago, I heard her words. I thought about her story. I was impressed by her poise and her certainty, her dedication to the children and families she serves.  Later I tried to tell the story to my daughter. Morgan’s words came back like a kick to my stomach when I tried to share them.  I couldn’t talk about the children whose stories she shared without tears. I still can’t.  I’ve found my mind wandering to the place she talked about, the people she described, the troubles she faces every day.  I find myself researching how to get to Haiti; researching visas, immunizations, airfares…  She told me the annual operating budget for her entire program; housing up to 50 kids, school fees, food, salaries for staff, even buying small plots of land for families to build homes is a mere $160,000 per year. That is less than the base salary for any CEO of any US or Canadian based charity.  I can’t get over how much she can accomplish with that meager budget, and yet she does, with grace.

At 47, there is a lot of stuff in my head, a lot of stuff in my heart. I am as busy as anybody else, with as little spare room in my schedule as ever but I can’t stop thinking about this. I can’t stop thinking that somehow some time I need to do something bigger than I’ve done. I’m very happy that Little Footprints Big Steps will now be receiving funding from the organization I work with, glad to see new relationships sparked from the presentation I helped organize, but I still feel compelled to do more, personally. I think a visit to Haiti is in my future. I genuinely have no idea what my presence could possibly do, how I could be of any use, but I’m guessing an extra pair of unskilled hands will come in handy at some point.

We hear so much about the bad, the lost, the directionless youth. There are so many young people doing so much good in our towns, our communities, across the globe. At the presentation Morgan did  recently at my workplace, the audience was packed with youth. Three local high schools brought students – Canada World Youth brought us eager young people from across Canada and Mozambique, eager to learn more and participate fully in their world. This is so exciting to me… it fills me with so much hope.

We can (and should) worry for the young people who are not participating, but we really have to celebrate people like Morgan Wienberg, young citizens like the students in the audience that day, intently listening, taking action in their very own homes after listening to her speak. We have so much to be proud of  and thankful for in these young people… they are amazing, and they will change the world.

Please visit Morgan’s site, and look at the work she is doing. She and the staff of Haitians she has been able to employ are currently caring for many former street children, providing them a safe house, an education, love and medical care. If you are moved to give, please do so. If you are moved to act for another cause, please do so. I am grateful to Morgan, grateful to anyone who gives so much of themselves.  Through them, I believe I can be better. I can do something big.

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Take a walk and call me in the morning…

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Sometimes I believe I know things; I’m known and what I say has weight,  my words can be included – they have merit. Other times, like today, I believe the value of my words is almost entirely dependent on whether my audience deems them worthy. That’s not blog speak; that’s life speak. I’ve been reminded this weekend that it doesn’t take much to silence me. That surprises me…  that it is sometimes dead easy to make me simply shhhhhh. To stop talking. To lose confidence in my own voice.

That sucks.

I felt that today…badly. But then, I took a walk in nature… a hike. I walked with a good friend along a ridge overlooking an achingly beautiful river bend; swans below, ravens and eagles just overhead and magpies calling from the trees. Ha. No silence there… no silence outside or inside of me. I am thankful for the walk, for the insane beauty all around me, for the snowless ground and the startling gift of a few extra days of autumn sunshine in the Yukon.

I came back calmer, more peaceful… confidence in my voice restored. Perspective; it’s out there, thank goodness. Sometimes you just need to take a walk to find it.

Words. Inside.

ImageWhat can I possibly write? I have words smashing around in my mind, in my chest, words that will hit the page like hammer blows, like tears falling. I have words trapped and seeking, and I can’t provide their freedom.

I have no place to put these thoughts – these words – this volcano –  that will not harm. There is no place to set this burden down. I will cause pain, no matter where I try to take ease.

If you see me, realize you are seeing what you expect to see… in the way the proofreader skips over spelling errors and jarring mistakes, seeing only what the brain predicts. 

That sound you hear when we pass is effort…those words want out.

Body Armor and Good Shoes

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Today I am dressed for work. Really dressed for work; black pencil skirt, lovely drapey blouse, suit jacket, neutral pumps (understated and professional with a good dash of sexy). My hair is short and styled, my makeup is appropriate and my accessories complement without distracting. Pearls, actually.

If you look a bit closer at the outfit, the shoes, the hair and the look you’ll see the hidden rivets. The seams where the metal  of the breastplate meets the tasset show the dents of the club hammer and the effort that went into its construction. Those good shoes… they’re really a modern sabaton; protection, baby.

Don’t think for a moment that I woke up this morning and decided to dress like this because heels feel awesome, because I love panty-hose. These earrings were chosen mindfully and the necklace too. My clothes are my armor.

There are things in my life right now that demand my full attention. My energy has to be rationed and my strength shored up. I am not up to the challenge in jeans and a t -shirt; I need something external to let me know I can handle what I must handle. I need to look in the mirror and see someone who is competent, strong, determined and certain. At the moment I’m none of those things, so for that, I need a disguise. I need a costume. I need armor.

A friend observed that often when women separate from their partners they begin to dress better than they used to. He seemed to believe it to be a peacock preening kind of thing; a desire to strut, to appear attractive. I’m offering another possible explanation; it’s fear. It’s fear, dressed up to look like courage. It’s armor.

Look at me… I look great. I look strong. I look like I know what I’m doing.

I’m a jelly fish. A jelly fish in really good shoes.

Gratitude, Joy and Land Sickness

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Last weekend I swam naked in the inky sea at midnight under a billion stars. The sea was filled with the magic that makes phosphorescence… I became a glow stick. A giggling, swirling, giddy glow stick. If I raised my hand out of the water, a thousand stars trickled down my fingers and arm back into the glittery sparkly sea. It was magic. Pure magic.

I spent three days with friends who exist entirely outside of my normal life. They have never been to my home, never met my family, my husband. They’ve never seen me in my space, my comfort zone. They don’t know my work, my reputation, my art, nothing outside what I have told them. They know only the me that exists when I am away from my responsibilities and the weight of expectation.  They like me, and I like them. Interestingly, I have never seen them in their day to day either. They live in another city and we met through mutual friends. Every time we’ve visited it’s been an event outside of the ordinary, and that’s amazing and freeing.

I am not one to swim naked at midnight under any kind of sky, as a rule. I’m also not one to sit for three days on the bow of a sailboat imagining a life quite different from the one I have. I am rarely still…I am rarely aware enough to notice things like the wonder of phosphorescence… like the frequent passage of satellites overhead.

I want to be someone who swims naked. I want to be someone who lays back on the deck of a boat and gazes upward. I want more time to gaze…

As with anything else, if you want change, you’ve gotta step up and make change. It’s in the wind… change.

If you find phosphorescence in your life… anywhere, I recommend jumping in. Naked. And if you feel a bit land sick when you come ashore, well that’s a small price to pay, don’t you agree?