Work In Progress

Enrobed by an inch think layer of ice, my back deck gazebo glows in the early morning darkness.  This has been one of the challenges with continuing my early morning practice of getting up before everyone else to have some sacred time to write or meditate---the morning  darkness.  Summertime meant taking my laptop to the deck, where the trill of birdsong and the gentle breeze across my arms caressed my senses awake---reminding me of the power of the universe---and the glory of being part of it.  Winter meant returning to the dining room where the warmth of the furnace and sound of the refrigerator running were poor replacements.  Still, the birdfeeder offered up a view of nature, albeit through glass the helped keep the connection.   Without knowing it, I had created a sacred place to work and craft and connect with myself and nature.  At this table I create and write and meditate (half lotus on the d...

I have been doing a bit of reading, or well listening, on this topic beyond "The Gifts of Imperfection" to see if I can unravel what exactly everyone means by meaningful work/higher calling/life's purpose/soul's work.  These phrases are tossed around a lot by the likes of Oprah, Deepak Chopra, and recently in a telejam (I love that word!) by Martha Beck , Lissa Rankin and Amy Ahlers . called Find Your Calling: Awaken Your Life Purpose, Clarify Your Vision & Do Your Soul's Work   which you should be able to access as a recording.  While everyone comes at it a bit differently, the essential message is the same: we all have something within us that we were meant to share or do or create in this lifetime and wasting that gift, denying your purpose will cause extreme distress in your life which can be manifested in a myriad of ways.    We often feel bound by what others and the world in general hold up as the measure for success, or by what soci...

Today is December 16, 2013.  365 days ago, I was still in the adult mental health unit of the hospital waiting for discharge.  I was there voluntarily, so technically could check myself out at any time, but I knew that I needed to be there.  I  had this tug-of-war inside my head-- to go home to be with my family for Christmas or stay in the warm, loving care of the hospital staff as long as I could.  At the hospital, life was simple; eat, exercise, listen, learn, read, watch tv, take meds, sleep.   Some patients came and went in my 17 day stay; held on a 24 or 48 hour hold to allow their suicidal ideation to pass, adjust their meds or give them a soft place to land for a day or two.  Some patients were regulars; one gentleman leaving a few days after I arrived, only to return on the day I left, wearing his pajamas, toting a pillowcase full of his belongings to be checked in at the nurses station.   "Hi guys.  I'm back...

I have quoted Star Wars before in some of my posts and I seem to be reaching back to one line that you hear a variation of in  each and every movie. "I've got a bad feeling about this." It's not so much the doom and gloom of the quote, (since every time someone says that, of course there is some imminent crisis to thwart),  but the intuitive nature of each of the characters that say it.  They know something is wrong---whether they have dropped into a trash compactor or are in the stomach of a space slug, each of them gets this "gut" feeling that something is not right. It's about intuition.   Faced with doubt about the likelihood of their undertaking, each character faces or braces for the bad feeling to turn into a bad thing. Nobody runs away. If you feel.....if you really deep down in your core...all internal voices saying, "THIS IS A BAD IDEA"....and we have the choice (ie to fly out of the slug's belly before ...

In 1999 I was teaching grade 8-10 in British Columbia.  I had taught for 8 years and was confident in my role, flexible in my planning and able to integrate new themes or material, growing and adapting the curriculum to the needs of the students as best I could. I had developed and executed on new courses for my district which allowed me to pursue my personal interest in Improvisation and Film Studies and I was feeling energized. In English class we learned to read stories for meaning.  We got to experience the power of words and learn how to wield them in space to create pictures and emotion and mood.  We talked about how our thoughts were important, practiced sharing them and considered how critically looking at our world was crucial to navigating it successfully. I read novels aloud, creating a shared experience with all students that allowed the reluctant readers to participate in a way they never could if...

I used to dread going to see my therapist sometimes because I knew I could brew up a whirlwind rant about my workplace, culminating in a giant single sentence tornado that would destroy everything in the room--me included.  First of all they promoted this incompetent woman over me. Then they dumped more on me to do including helping HER staff. Then we had retirements that were not replaced..and big capital projects...and operational adjustments while being the only department to implement cost saving operational improvements. Then I get promised a title change but it never happens and then... (Even now I feel the urge to type out every minute detail just to know I am not crazy and these things are really horrible and evil and awful and they should all just----)   DEEEP BREATH!   At Inner Mean Girl Reform School our first lesson was to identify the inner mean girls who  tell you BIG FAT LIES about yourself and set you off o...

It's funny how the universe sends you things you need....when you need them most.  Two days ago the radio was blaring the warning that Christmas was only a month away.  Yesterday it reminded everyone that a month from now all the Christmas hubbub would be over and you would be left with a mess or alternatively, standing in line somewhere to save $50 off a TV you really don't need.   I have to admit, I would love to go back to a time when I was just the kid...and the only thing I had to do was browse the Sears Wishbook (over and over)---or tag along behind my Nana as we paused at each of the meticulously decorated windows at the Simpsons building downtown in the 'big city'.  Stress was reserved for grownups.  I dreamed of sleigh bells in the air, snowmen I would build and the smell of eggnog and aftershave as 50 or more people filled out house each Christmas Eve.  Cookies were consumed, candy jars raided, fires crackled and laughter filled the house w...