Harmony

Harmony...I just finished reading Outwitting the devil by Napoleon Hill. The impact of his work and writing will be long lasting and will unfold over time as I assimilate the Truths revealed therein and as I see them as witness to their validity in the lives of those around me. The internal landscape, the thoughts and preoccupations of the inside of you, of me, it determines what is manifest on the outside, in other words, you are what you think, put simply. This brings me to one of the teaching points in this great bit of writing and quite bluntly it is this: only associate with people who mentally, spiritually and or economically are of benefit to you. I have one friend from university days and this week we spent some time together. It comes as no surprise to me that we have maintained our connection. Much time passes between visits and chats and yet, we have an harmonious vibe when together. I described it this way: harmony is like breathing, feels just about right with every intake and exhale. My friend, she added to this by saying "harmony is ease...not easy, but feeling of rightness...like slippers or flannel...something familiar to our souls...even in hardship...we breathe", ahhhh, yes, that about captures the feeling, doesn't it? Life can be hard or life is what you make of it or "it is what it is", these are all useless and meaningless expressions with hopeless helplessness attached, a sense that nothing can be done, an acceptance of mediocrity~platitudes, a throwing up of the hands form of excuse making for the circumstances, attitudes and behaviours that we cannot change in others...it speaks of staying in relationship while tolerating less than appealing displays of the inner workings of another. I have been back tracking my experiences when I am "triggered" by what another person might say, do, write. I check myself out frequently for my own yuckiness, my own intolerable attitudes and behaviours and I am surrounded by people who love me and are bold and brave enough to challenge me for my own self actualization, the growing up of the better parts of who I am. My wise friend, she spoke of "not easy" and sometimes, there needs be dis ease in relating in order to get to the heart connecting chocolatey truffle centre of relationship. Harmony is the beginning of a relationship, a meeting of the minds and hearts with soul brushing and a cozy warm by the fire flannel feeling as the indicator of true comfort in the presence of another. Test: If the thought of someone makes your lip curl, is that a friend? If the phone rings and its "that client", is it wise to keep taking their money? When disparaged by a relative, must you spend time with them? Better than ditching these people who cause disharmony, are you willing to be bold and brave, for the sake of their self actualization and maintenance of the relationship by speaking Truth to them and challenging their words, behaviours and the underlining belief systems that have them feel like sand paper against the soul rather than flannel? Each person is precious and deserving of love...love shows up when you are willing to take a risk and let another person know what keeps your heart at a safe distance from theirs. We are not our behaviours or words, these are simply an outpouring of what is happening on the inside. Tolerating isn't love, it is a form of disdain, Love willingly goes into dark places and brings the Light with Truth as the Source. Lastly, and this comes with intense clarity, I cannot change another, I will not take on the responsibility for the health and wellness of another. I will love from a distance if harmony is unachievable, support with prayers and a heart of encouragement, my head though? I will not bang it against the stubborn wall of another's heart...my work calls me elsewhere. This is for you my longest term forever harmonious friend Louisa Marziali, I love you and am edified and inspired by you, may abundance be yours. 

Default to Risk

Default to risk. This is an interesting concept given to me in conversation with a brilliant man of God. Last night we had company and one of our dinner guests was a toddler just past the age of one. She can feed herself and while she did, she missed her mouth a whole lot. She can walk and she does, and she often trips or bumps against something and down she goes, looking back to see what the cause of her stumble was...she drinks from a sippy cup and much water covers the front of her clothes. Self blame did not exist for an entire evening of toddledom and while she picked heavy objects up and adjusted to their weight (a two pound dumbbell) gravity pulled her down and with mighty unquestioned baby strength, she got back up again, weight in hand. Her daddy, he was and is a human jungle gym, a training ground for learning how to fly and be caught, teedering on the edge of danger with a safety net of ever ready hands as nets and watchful eyes keeping pace with the business of exploring and learning rapidly. The child laughs easily, loves readily, plays naturally. The parent watches proudly, adoringly and with a desire for the little one to be free, joy filled in the learning. I witnessed what I did not experience growing up, a reminder to me that fear and guilt, along with self consciousness, are taught and are not naturally occurring. This brings me to risk, risk IS natural, normal, factory setting as in born with it~risk takes me/you from crawling to walking to running and than climbing; from feeling to thinking (YES, IN THAT ORDER) to saying and doing...defaulting to risk makes me a difference maker, life changer, a force in the world, a change agent a________, a________YOU fill in your own blanks. Self recrimination, self depricating thoughts and words, they serve no one, they speak of the need to know that I/you are loved from the outside in, it is a way of checking in as in "is this okay mommy, did I do this right daddy, do you approve, am I ok, AM I OKKKKKKK?". The sweet toddler, with her sweet jungle gym daddy, they had a system. She took uncalculated risks with him close by and when in danger, daddy was there to catch her as she flew through the air. He is there to guide her, help her check out how far she can go, what she can touch taste and smell and steering her clear of what might harm or hurt her, always with gentle redirection, love and affection. This is how I see my Heavenly Father, wanting for me/you to explore, default to what in adulthood feels like risk, with him as the jungle gym daddy, encouraging exploration while ever present as I/you fly through the air, He is ready to catch us. This is dedicated to Scott Forbes and Ayden Townsend, two daddies modelled after my all time favourite daddy, my Abba Father, God Almighty. 

Men

Waves of appreciation, they wash over me when I think about men. Men, who park their cars in the driveway so that their wives are free to utilize warm garages, protected from the elements; men, who invite women to walk in front of them through open doorways; men, who walk on the traffic side of a sidewalk, old fashioned like to protect the woman from on coming traffic splashes or wreckless drivers; men, who build buildings and homes, parks and pave roads, install toilets and sinks, take out the garbage and plow the driveways and highways of life. Men, who work through exhaustion to feed and clothe and provide creature comforts to their families, completing behind the scenes labour that goes unnoticed, without acknowledgement. I was at a planning meeting recently, five men and little old me...while I said "yes, let's get that plan done", they began working on the how to parts, the logistics, they are the behind the scenes wizards, masterminds that put thought into the things that become realities, materially speaking. Behind the scenes wizards, they do the grunt work, the heavy lifting, the nose to the grind stone labour that is often dressed up in suit and tie, dress shoes and fancy socks. Love pours out of men as they work sometimes to the point of physical breakdown, dedicated to serving those in their lives they feel responsible for, a burden born out of the purest love, the you first, I must take care of you first deep down feeling. I am overwhelmed with gratitude as I consider my own father, his work ethic, dedication to being a tireless provider, right until the end. I look around me and I fall in love with huMANity, the men in my life who can't seem to rest, a luxury they do not afford themselves because there is important work to be done, this day, this hour, this minute. Sigh, I cannot finish this, I cannot write the words to express my sorrow for the oft misunderstood and underestimated position men find themselves in. I can only make a request: look at your man, take a good hard look, ask yourself, what have I done for HIM lately? To the men I admire and love, this one is for you. 

Cotton Stuffed Ears

What are you waiting for? Ever get the feeling things just aren't quite right, that you are biding your time, politely, or impolitely perhaps, distracting yourself for when over happens? Intolerant tolerance, this is what I am speaking of. I'm big on choice, I really am and so, I am able, more then capable really, to change and shift direction in a meeting, a conversation, a mood. This I have done and will continue to do, when I see that there is value added in doing so, in speaking when no one else will because the situation calls for it. Then, there is the banging your head against the wall feeling that comes when no words can possibly change what is, when a battle cry to arms, a call to higher ground, to leaving behind childish things is wasted, falling on deaf ears, blocked from the inside, cotton wool stuffed from the inside out. I know cotton wool, it itches to the touch, it distracts from comfort, it is an agitant. I make observations here, personal ones of course, since I am indeed, the writer. This is a matter of knowing, where and when and how and with whom do I spent my most valuable commodity, my time? Hide and seek of the soul, it is a game I like to play, with partners I know are in the game, want to be found, squeal in delight at being discovered and called out of hiding. I'm shooting for joy abundant, resiliency and having playmates, people to laugh with and get down to serious work with to change the world from mediocre to spectacular. Life is an amazing gift that I get to participate in every day, I move away from tolerating and toward Truth, each time I choose how my time is spent. 

Not Puppets

Shadow self, the dark forces, the enslaving oppressive hopeless helpless voices and naggings from within that somehow feel like an intruder disguised as me, masked as you. The great lie is that the voice(s) are my/your own and they are not, the deceiver, the liar sells fraud, masquerade with chipped and dented psuedo truths to convince and persuade the victim of what isn't Truth. Fear, bravado, pride, self aggrandizement, false humility, excessive shame, unforgiveness of self or other, addiction, the list can go on, these are the signs and symtoms of the shadow, the dark side, painting black over top of brilliance. The shadow is a wooing spirit of deception that preys on it's human hosts insecurities and natural inclinations or predispositions and capitalizes on these existing conditions for the shear pleasure of command, in other words, if the shadow were the puppeteer, I/you are it's puppet. Anything that has a hold on me/you and feels as though I am without choice is a great indicator that some investigation needs happening in that area, and perhaps many more areas. What I write of is not new, it his age old. I have been in the presence of greatness, humans of mastery. These humans fight the good fight, knowing shadow is want to turn them into stringed caricatures of themselves, bouncing them about in a jagged performance unbefitting the Glorious nature of man. In the presence of greatness, there is a sense of awe and wonder, the eyes grow large in an attempt to absorb and capture what is felt and heard as though to record and somehow assimilate, make my own/your own. You and I, we can only be fooled for so long. The human spirit is not want to be toyed with, it wants for and pants after the filling up and abundant overflowing of all that is spectacular and stunningly beautiful to behold. You are not your shadow self, you are not something's puppet, playing the fool. You are created in the image of God and shadow fades and disappears when standing in The Light. Man is made for Glory, less is counted as loss. 

Summon

Summon, "to call for the presence of, as by command, message or signal,; call". This is the word a friend used to describe the communication we had prior to our actual communication. Here is what I mean: I was sending a message to a friend and while doing so, a name popped up on my screen and I was somewhat surprised...within the very next second, the person to whom the name belongs, sent me a text message. My eyes bulged, a little stunned with the instantaneous occurrence. We have all had similar experiences where you think of someone you haven't seen in quite sometime and then you see them or they call...it is always a wonder and in conversation we say something like "this is crazy, I was JUST thinking about you!" Precognition, a knowing that is later confirmed, a sense that is undeniable and proven in the flesh at a later date. I told my friend that I had better pay attention today, for my summons may come in many shapes and forms and it is a call to service when this brilliant phenomenon happens. The veil is thin, between the physical and spiritual realms. We move through this life in a trance until we start to notice, sense, feel into what we perceive and the intangibles become more substantial and palpable than the mere what we can touch and prove with our hands things. I am torn, the physical wants to hold me fast to earthly things, my spirit wants to soar and fly freely...it is summoning me to the Heavens. 

Blazing Trail

It is easy to jump on the bandwagon when someone else has taken a good hard swallow and forged bravely ahead blazing a trail. Stepping out into no mans land is both thrilling and terrifying and contemplation makes the stepping out bittersweet and enduring. There comes a time when the body moves without permission, it is without decision, impelled to go and do and there is no stoppage, impossible does not exist as a concept and I/you find yourself transported in time and space and suddenly there is a still point, a reconciling with the now. Where am I and how did I get here? Here is only part way and it is the brave of heart that continue there voice in the wilderness trek to places unknown and yet mysteriously assured. I wander broken in the desert, the stars lighting the sky, I stumble cut by a cactus, a physical reminder that I am human, I bleed...I lie supine in the rough dry grass mixed with dirt and stone, humbled before my God, the dawning of my wrestling with what was and what shall be. The great chasm closes and I am one with His plan, His calling me forth to my divinely intended identity. I surrender, conforming to the image of Christ for my own sake, and the the sake of those He wants to claim as His own. He knows His sheep, he calls them by name and they that know Him recognize His voice, The Good Shepherd, they are impelled to draw near. Thy Will not mine Lord...

Stay

There are blessings in tenacity. Giving up is easy in the moment, it is the aftermath of having abandoned a project, a relationship, a goal that can cause life long heart burn, dissonance that is like a slow burn just beneath the surface of the pysche. Situational Discomfort comes when I am challenged beyond my so far naturally, progressively obtained abilities. In coaching, the novice coach is taught something called stay and during every training workshop, the leaders invite the trainees to "stay until the end", the designated time that class is actually over. This reminder to stay present has the effect of reeling the would be mind wanderers back to the here and now, the crucial learning ground of self, in the presence of others. Stay is an art form, it is a distinguishing characteristic of a truly engaged student of life. I recently wanted to quit, I felt the pressure and burden of a steep learning curve and my current talents for managing details big and small are diminutive when I look at what is wanting to be created, seemingly out of nothing. In my stay, I see the others, the ones I am learning in front of, the ones who are too, students of life, learning in front of me. We bare witness to one another's vulnerabilities, struggles and fall downs and, and we get to see the get back up tenacity that Delivers blessings through perseverance. Nothing does not exist, there is the yet to be discovered and when I stay, when you stay, the likelihood of discovery increases exponentially and the reward too, grows Powerfully. No thing will stand between me and what is yet to be, I stay because my work, my learning, it is not done. Stay is a choice, and it is yours to make. 

Systems Down Day

Saturday as Sabbath

I have designated this coming Saturday as my Sabbath, a sabbatical leave from technology and dedicated to God. It will be my seventh day, my day of rest. In farmland speak, land was "plowed and harrowed but left unsown for a period in order to restore its fertility as part of a crop rotation or to avoid surplus production".

Seven-year cycles

The ancient Jews, after settling in the Holy Land, began to count and observe seven-year cycles, culminating in a Sabbatical year known as Shemittah, literally "to release". The song with lyrics Please Release me, let me go, comes to mind as the build up toward my day of refreshment and restoration approaches. The intrigue around the number seven abounds and while some consider it to be lucky, it is deeply rooted in creation, a master plan that started before man had the ability to notice patterns and capitalize on them.

God wants to be worshipped 

Choosing to worship

The God of The Bible wants to be observed, appreciated, worshipped on the seventh day of each week. There is a humbling in this, when I/you acknowledge that much has been given to us, not the least of which is our very life's breath. In the Thank-You God day, there is a release from worldly pressures, the field of the soul is left unsown by human hands and God is invited to plant heavenly seeds of otherworldly delights.

I sit still, longing for this and the return to his original plan: he is the Master Craftsman and I am his to shape, from seed to sapling to branch on his tree of life.

Saturday approaches, I choose him. 

Dance, a Language of Love

I teach a dance class, dancing brings me much joy and comes easily to me, it is a body celebration, a way for feelings to be expressed, conveyed. Today, I had two woman in my class, a blessing to me. These women are elderly, new to the country and can speak very little English. Only necessity would have someone at their stage of life take them away from all that they have ever known and loved, including the vastly comforting environment of people speaking their mother tongue, food and clothing they are accustomed to, a faith shared by their brethren...being able to ask for what they want, need, and understanding simple instruction without having to hear the instructions repeated over and over again. I am humbled by the patience of these women who have their stories and history, untold in a foreign land. What did they leave behind and what hope do they hold in their hearts for the life they have here? I am overwhelmed at what I take for granted, a life of freedom and liberty, unrestricted. I can dance and love and laugh speak or not, I can be silent and move slowly and see into the eyes of another and speak wordlessly so that they hear my heart and I hear theirs. Sometimes I feel beyond words and that's when I know that there is always more than meets the eye. Dance is a language of love. 

Talking

Let your words be anything but empty...let your yes be your yes and your no be your no. The Truth is out, excessive talking causes bleeding ears in the would be, wanna be listener. So here it is, the HUGE opportunity that we all get to share in and be a part of, wait for it, waittttt for it, relationships! I know you are thrilled with this revelatory breaking bit of news, so stay with me as I chase down my own connect the dots thinking and capture something big here. If I am in front of you and I am listening, then my assumption (forgive me this assumption in this instance) is that what you have to say is important and I am all ears, especially if I have paid to hear you speak. There is an expression, give them what they came for, and baby, if I'm your audience, I want you to bring it. I'm not talking about performance here, I'm not in need of entertainment, there is something much bigger at stake...it is relationship through connection. I have sat through too many one sided captive audience experiences and I love myself far too much to suffer them anymore, in fact, they make me sick, literally. When a speaker has listeners and asks perfunctory questions in an attempt to include the people in the room, it is painful to watch the lost opportunities to hear hearts, listen to wisdom, feel the love of others and their "why" for what they do. In a world gone mad with getting things done, the talking has turned into talking about connection, with real relationships being lost in the fray. I escaped such a meeting, not nearly soon enough, just this morning. My fight or flight urges where neatly held in check until break was called and then, like a bird in an UNLOCKED cage, I flew freely out of there. I could have left earlier, I could have yelled stop babbling about what should be and start modelling it but it wasn't my place, my opinion was not asked for and I was, I am, at choice to say something, nothing at all or simply, move on if the effort appears to far outweigh potential return. Time is precious, I choose how I "spend" mine...I hope in reading this, you haven't wasted yours!

Yahweh is Gracious

John, my fathers name. I have written about him before, he died in 2000, and I wasn't done with him when he left this plane. There are long conversations I would like to have, curiosities I would delight in sharing, and his wisdom, I would like to sit and bask in his knowing, what he learned and loved and how he sees the world. This is the grown up me, wondering about the man my father was, who he would have become as the years drew out and the urgency of doing life diminished. I have had the benefit of getting to know my mother, as a human being, and not just as the mommy that fed me and took care of my earthly needs. She is my wise whisper and truth teller...she also still requests I put on a coat when it is cold outside and reminds me to never leave the kitchen when something is cooking on the stove, as she says, she will always be my mom. My dad always sang different songs, whistled a lot too. I love to hear a man whistle, it is music to my ears and when I notice whistling, time freezes for a moment and I feel him near. The name John means Yahweh is gracious and my father was in many ways, gracious and generous...the thought occurs to me that he may or may not have known the meaning of his name, and that it is fascinating that my middle name is Grace, a link eternal to my earthly father, the man I shall meet again, the one that has gone on before me to our Heavenly Father. There is another man in my life, he reminds me very much of my father, he too is named John. He makes me laugh, he is quirky, funny, deep and thoughtful and he is a man of faith and shares his abiding love of God with me...he also warns me, Linda Grace, make sure you get rest and take care of yourself. Like a father, he somehow knows just when I need encouragement and without a hint of need from me, he sends me messages, divinely inspired, to feed my soul. He is indeed, one of my ghost writers and he came into my life in a crazy fun way, our friendship instantly seeled within the first few moments of being in each other's company. One of my best friends said to me today "we will add something but we will not take away". No one can replace my dad; John is not channelling my father nor do I wish he were, he is a unique and wonderful person, a gift to me from as yet, unseen hands. I want to say so much more, in gratitude and appreciation...but how do you thank someone, who has taken you from crayons to perfume, it isn't easy but I'll try...if you wanted the sky I would write across the sky in letters, that would soar a thousand feet high, to John, with love...lulu got it right with this song and I borrow the sentiments from the lyrics, for two men for whom I will remain, eternally linked and grateful. 

Saints, Angels & Cosmic Glue

Saints and Angels...Angels are Gods Messengers, they are the Heavenly Host, the created beings that worship Him that made them and do His bidding amongst men on earth. Saints are Gods people, the humans that have chosen to worship God and they too, do His bidding, His Heavenly work, here on earth, for the purpose of glorifying God, edifying their fellow man, and in gratitude for the many Big Daddy gifts bestowed and received. In and around us, we are held together by what is crazy cosmic glue, the compounds of which are innumerable and mystically magical. Try as one might, forming a human is not piece work, there are no factory conveyor belts with livers, hands, hair, eyes passing quickly by for workers to assemble. I am not at all in awe of the human explanations of our existence, in fact I find them laughable and young minded, it is the wishful thinking that the faith filled are often accused of. Today as I walked where many humans occupied space, I wondered, do they know? Do they every consider how wonderfully they are made? As they look about them at things and people passing them by as moving objects not to be collided with, do they consider the love that is all around them, holding them whole and keeping their physical integrity intact? And what of the other human beings with whom they share time, space, air? Can they see them, are they in awe of the thinking, heart beating humans that live and breathe effortlessly in their presence? And for what, I mean really, what is it all for...its for me, it's for you, it is for delight, soul singing joy, love eternal and overflowing and I am reminded, Keli Nethercott and Randy S, it is good. 

Ghost Writers

I have a ghost writer, or two. They are the people in my life that inspire me and give me impetus, "the force that moves something along". My early morning client inspired me today when she described the hand holding her real estate clients needed to feel assured in their home purchase. As I heard her speak, I heard how she had adapted her responses to their needs, encouraging them to make choice based on what felt best for them without undue pressure from her. In the end, they thanked her for her patience as the process had taken some time from start to finish. She was the perfect agent, or "representative who acts on behalf of other persons". As my day progressed, I had the deep and profound pleasure of witnessing a close friend coming to faith, knowing Christ as Saviour...my heart and eyes fill with the recalling. Jesus is the ultimate change agent, the force, the impetus, the ghost writer in my life. Each time I see the selfless acts of submission to urges that serve others, I see him. Each time I submit, follow my urges, I serve him, my humble master, for the sake of others. Precognition informs me, the wind warns me, I sense and feel and trust with a faith that in it's Zenith is spectacularly and intrinsically connected to Spirit, my Holy guide. How can I help but fall in love with each human being I lay my eyes on? How can I help but see God in them? Who is writing for you, in you, through you? Does love speak loudly is there another voice, a dark one that speaks pain and hurt, sorrow and perhaps anger or even rage? Check out your ghost writers, is it their voices you want to have speaking for you? What do they say to you about you and others...that's the place to start, the beginning of freedom of speech, your birthright. Choice, we are always and forever, at choice. 

Truth Lead Me

I heard a great line recently, that we all grow old but this doesn't mean we grow up. The term arrested adolescence comes to mind as I consider how inclined some are to cling to a self aggrandized view, with disregard for the feedback of many an astute teacher. During an experiential event, my eyes were covered with a blindfold. I will not describe the rest of the experience, suffice it to say that when the blindfold was removed, it was soaked with my bitter tears, the lesson was a harsh one with realizations about my own inability to see, my blindness to what really was, rather than my own narrow, solyptical view of the world, life, mine and the lives of others. I could have excused myself from the lessons, turned a blind eye, in fact I had known that my vision had been somewhat blurred and I desperately wanted to see, really see and yet the temptation was there, to evade, avoid, cling to what used to be but I could not...in the end, that would have been more painful and far too comfortable and there were the others, the ones whose lives I would impact negatively for holding myself in a fraudulent place when I knew that there is better, more, and conversely, there are the lives I stand to impact powerfully, by being honest and clear, serving from a pure heart. Socrates' words, "the unexamined life is not worth living" come back to me as a powerful reminder, a call to arms for the Truth to be told first to the self and then, in the company of others. I cannot make you see the Truth, speak it. You cannot make me tell it, love it. If I examine my heart, my soul, it lives there, and it is reflected back to me in the eyes of those with whom lying does not wash, it is unacceptable, unbearable and at times, even dispicable. No one is fooled by the liar, accept the one trying to deceive~eventually they run out of listeners and need to find new ears everywhere they go to perpetuate the lies that serve no one. Truth lead me, and I dare to follow faithfully, I know not where, but I do know, it is good. 

New Family Member

A week ago, a close friend of mine and I travelled to Toronto for a coaching in the streets and mall event. The idea was to give shoppers a taste of what it feels like to be coached, a 5 minute all about you experience. I am not shy, in fact I am quite the opposite. The biggest part of who I am is expressive of the idea I have that just because I haven't met you yet, it doesn't mean I don't know you. One week ago today, I met a man that has become a fast friend. In considering this, I see the interconnectedness I have with my people. There is a familiarity in the meeting that is undeniable, exciting and safe, and the details of life get filled in as the relating grows into friendship. Familiar, it derives from the word family...family reunion comes to mind when I meet my kindred, it is a coming home, being seen, heard, understood, loved. My fearlessness in meeting others is driven by my desire to have them feel what I feel and see what I see, that they are precious in Gods sight and that they are designed with divinely intended identities, perhaps yet to be discovered, or more aptly, uncovered, taken out of hiding. I am a deep water walker, I do not swim in shallow waters, nor do I stay close to shore...some of the lyrics in the song Oceans from Hiilsong United speak to calling upon God, trusting in Him to keep my head above the waves...you called me out upon the waters, the great unknown, where feet may fail...and there I find you in the mystery, in oceans deep, my faith will stand. Today I thank God, for I am His and He is mine, and He has given me many family members with whom I delight in sharing faith. My blessings abound. 

Harbinger

Rewritten May 1st, 2020

Holy Spirit Intel

Homing Pigeons: they are harbingers, something that precedes and indicates the approach of something or someone else.

These birds have historically been employed as messengers and in war time, great distances at significant speed were crossed for the sake of lives being saved with the delivery of messages. How do they do this? They use the sun for direction and when cloudy, they use the earths magnetic field. They sense where they are and where they need to go, employing a map and compass system. The latest findings regarding pigeons directional abilities suggest they use primarily magnetic cues.

Magnetically drawn home 

The pull for a pigeon

The pull for a pigeon is felt, it is natural, it is irresistible; it is their way of locating and then eventually, returning home. The fact that humans discovered and have utilized these amazing abilities points to the ingenuity of man and bird working together to create a delivery system that works. An outstanding concept, that captures the imagination, and yet, if we stay here, on the mechanics, we risk loosing sight of the importance of this conveyance system.

While the system is brilliant, its significance is celestial: it is the message that holds substance, the foreshadowing of something or someone approaching.

Human harbingers
There are maps and a compass to guide us dear one, with human harbingers that read both with the efficiency of homing pigeons. When the sun is hiding as guiding light in the cover of clouds, these detectors of something or someone approaching begin cooing their message. I am reminded of scripture, and Gods presence among the Israelites whilst they sojourned in the desert:

"By day the LORD went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or by night" (Exodus 13:21).

Moses was a human harbinger, when the people were too afraid to relate to God directly, for fear of dying:

'... and said to Moses, "Speak to us yourself and we will listen. But do not have God speak to us or we will die" (Exodus 20:19).

Dear reader, there are many human harbingers and they are speaking to us from history and they are shouting to us in our present. Like John the Baptist in the wilderness, they have an undiluted message, given to them by the Son: sharing what they have heard from God is magneticallly irresistible. They are drawn to us to tell us what they know as a warning: they simply cannot help it.

We can hear the heavy landing of footsteps
Something is coming, someone is coming. When we listen closely, we can hear the heavy landing of footsteps with the sinister approach. Some want to cover their eyes and stop up their ears to prevent the seeing, the hearing, the knowing; others look to the messenger for truth and guidance, heeding the warning.

What defence have you
What dear one, will you do?
Can you see, do you hear, what is happening all around you?
What map and compass do you consult for your understanding?
Is your freedom an inalienable right, or are you, like many before you, one of the sleepy lambs that will be led to your own slaughter?
What defence have you for your choices, when you have been warned, and have not heeded?

Who, dear reader, do you trust, to deliver the truth so that you can return safely, home?

Getting Unstuck

Stuck is a theme I have been noticing a whole lot lately. Regardless of the messenger for this theme, the encouragement for getting unstuck has been similar, that "getting unstuck begins when our hope exceeds our circumstances", this quote I borrow with permission from my life affirming Pastor, Jon Korkidakis. The spark of hope, it is the evidence of things yet unseen and somehow believed and definitely longed for. The longing is the beginning point for movement forward, toward the whatever "it" may be that captures the attention and desire. Urgency must outweigh circumstances for change to occur and this is the do or die point in life, the I must do SOMETHING or I/it, the thing I want most, will forever be lost. Hesitate, wait or worse yet, forfeit the risk by staying where you find yourself being stuck and you not only lose what was yours to claim, you lose the miracle that was waiting for you and along with it, the downward pull to despair may threaten to engulf, smothering and snuffing out the small flicker of hope that needed only your breath of life to grow into a flame of claim. What is so important that if you stay stuck, the loss feels like the beginning of death? What must you feel, acknowledge, admit to to get unstuck and live your life as though it were YOUR OWN to live?  My own, your own life...this is our one shot as far as we know, what do you hope for, what do you want and what are you willing to do to move towards your hearts desire? Stuck in the muck or forward toward, you decide. 

Homeostasis and Factory Settings

Homeostasis is defined as metabolic equilibrium actively maintained by several complex biological mechanisms that operate via the autonomic nervous system to offset disrupting changes~this pertains to physiology. We have built in natural systems that work to maintain our equilibrium and for this I suggest we offer gratitude to the unseen Powers that be with the creative engineering abilities. Like any system, tampering can damage a finely tuned machine and in the case of the body, deprivation, overstimulation, abuse can through homeostasis into a frantically whirling spinning out of control gauge that can't seem to right the machine it was built into to protect. On February 10th, 2014, I committed myself to my own wellness. My former coach, Szos St Germain, was instrumental in this commitment to self and I am grateful to him for guiding me back to my own homeostasis, working diligently with me to allow my natural gauge to reach equilibrium and balance me out as it were. Consciously, conscienciously, with purposeful awareness and mindful choice, I have steadily claimed what is rightfully mine, living freely and happily in the body that my soul was matched with when my God designed me. Never before have I felt so free and the transformation has been a process from the inside out, not the outside in...my tribe, The Seagulls, you have watched, seen the swoops, my broken wings, my healed heart, you held me close and tucked me under your wings when I needed a safe place to hide, even just for a little while. You loved me with your eyes, listened with carefilled ears and hugged me tight when I needed you the most. You spoke Truth, in service of my soul, my growth as a humanitarian and I have been edified. I am strong, I am bold, I am powerful and I am here for more than just me. I follow Spirit and homeostasis feels like a return to factory setting. God is good. 

Silence

Silence is Golden, but my eyes don't see...yes, I understand now. Today I taught a Diva Dance class for a group of women for whom English is a second language. I have taught this class before, with verbal cues and the difference between the two ways of teaching were astounding. I have been to foreign lands, in fact I spent many a summer in Italy where I indulged in muteness due to the language barrier. While my sisters learned and spoke and communicated in Italian, I stubbornly clung to my fear of making mistakes and being corrected, at least at first. I quickly learned that my silence had a certain power to it and I was not lacking in company, in friendship, in relationship. In my home land, I speak my mother tongue, that is to say I speak English. I have relied heavily on my verbal skills to communicate, and while words are handy dandy (I am after all, using them now), signs and symbols, facial expressions and eyes, hands and intention speak so much more clearly and commandingly. I had no intention of teaching wordlessly today, it just happened. The few times I used words they felt heavy, misplaced, like a tumbling rock disturbing a peaceful and vibrant landscape of sublte aliveness. Without words, I felt the dancers, watched them learning and capturing new ways of moving and expressing. They knew what I was saying with my heart, my body, my hope for them and in return, I received their happy wonder, joy filling me with appreciation for the relating. To be alive, in communion with another, it is beyond words, and I am filled up with this knowing. Silence does not mean nothing is being said, it is a gift to the eyes that see, the ears that hear and the heart that gives and receives. 

Muscle & Wholeness

Muscles are like out of work actors, they will take anything you throw their way. Gravity pulls everything down, down, down, and weight training is like putting the apple back up into the tree...muscles are anti gravity and lifting weights moves body parts back to their place of origin, back up, up, up. Muscles know not age and they want to work, they are made to work and it is an act of deprivation to keep them from what they were designed for, which is to keep the body strong, supported, healthy, functioning, protecting the joints and maintaining the straight up and down posture that ensures organs stay in their place of origin with lots of room to do their own work to keep you and me alive and full of life. Some may not like reading this and my hope is that it is an advanced warning, a call to action, to take care of the shell you are in purposefully. When the body is neglected, it affects, or more accurately, infects the mind, the soul. Traditionally we have been taught that we are made up of three "parts", the mind, body, and soul. Integration of these parts requires thoughtful, conscientious choosing, movement toward wholeness. Now, You and Me, we are each separate parts of the Whole of this thing we call Humanity. It is not selfishness to take care of my own body, my own mind, my very soul, it is purposeful, it is for the sake of service, for the sake of The Whole. My strength is the worlds gain and it is in my Wholeness as an independent unit that I am made available to be a fully functioning elemental part of the Whole of Humanity...without me, there is a missing link, a weakening in the chain, a broken strand of DNA. I am here, and therefore I am important and my life has meaning. You are here, and therefore you are important and your life, it has meaning...go, think, do, feel, be on your purpose, love yourself first and than you can truly love another, and than another, and so on, and so on and...

Poison

An internal warning system is built into the human being and when the humans batteries are fully charged, this system detects threat, danger, and eminent disaster by sending signals from brain to body, body to brain, eyes to feet as in run, a cow with horns is baring down on me and if I don't get out of this field, I'm going to be impaled. This system is sensitive and is subject to malfunction, override, unnecessary rewiring and disconnect. Here is an example: your child, friend, partner, co-worker is heading out the door and you suggest "drive safely" or "be good" or "be careful". What? Seriously, WHAT? Now the child, friend, partner, co-worker has received a message, a seed has been planted that it isn't safe out there and without processing the information, the directive that has been given, there is a growth. The seed has broken through its outer casing and implanted in the pysche and has taken root, reaching down into dark crevices and around uncharted corners, an insidious poisonous plant of foreign descent, meaning the host body did not plant it there and as the plant grows, creeping its way into ever cell, it is fed and watered by outside sources, the very same ones that planted the seed in the first place. Ensnared, the host feels the grip, the plant has taken over and threatens to strangle in its hold on the human. Until Truth, Wisdom, Life, Light, Love are spoken and then something happens, the plant starts to shrivel and wither and the human digs down, begins pruning and eventually, digs deep enough to see roots and by this time, the roots are barely holding on, unable to maintain their grip because the hate of lies and fear have not been fertized, watered, given the breath of life. Fear or Faith? You are wonderfully made by a Master Craftsman, with built in mechanisms for brilliance and majesty...let no man, or poisonous plant, steal your birthright.  

Off with their heads

Ouch, you just punched me in the ego, how very dare you, off with your head...ever feel this way? I grin as I write this because it makes me think of the queen of hearts from Alice in Wonderland, chopping off the heads of those that inadvertently and most innocently insult or irritate her, and she was irritated, a lot. Heads will roll is another expression that comes to mind and the not so sublte threat of beheading by a dictator can send ripples of fear surging through those that know of the temper tantrum indulgent pseudo grown ups that enjoy ruling by might. In the me ness of our existence, the discomfort of rejection, of not being liked, understood, appreciated can cause a mass of insecurities that tangle and strangle and any hint of nonacceptance is jarring. Going deeper into the jarring is the sense that nothing I do/you do, is quite right, I/you messed up and there is no fixing this one, the beginning of the end is happening now and yikes, what have I done? This is a self beheading, I lie face down, place my neck in the groove of the guillotine and pull the rope that releases the weighted blade and with one precise slice, my head has been severed from my body...decapitation is complete. The image is gruesome and yet, this is the carnage that is suffered and self imposed daily by me/you at the worst of times. I don't know who said "I am my own worst enemy" but I'm happy to quote this person and add, I am my most avaibable and capable advocate, the battle for ground in my soul must be mine, hard won with perseverance, forgiveness and abandon to being a hot mess and sometimes being just oh so right. Thoughts engender feelings and visa versa, chasing them down, trapping them and making them explain themselves is my/your ticket to freedom. Much love for me/you, with Grace, Linda. 

Emancipation

Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds...won't you help to sing, these songs of freedom. These are some of the lyrics from my all time favourite song, Redemption Song, by Bob Marley. This singer song writer was onto something incredibly powerful, that none but ourselves can free our minds. As you think, so you are, so you become. Outside pressure and persuasion can appear to be the choice makers in life and yet, it is the will that holds us to our freedom or crumbles, sending us tumbling down to our own folly. I can't help but appreciate the mounting evidence of our human capacity for pure brilliance. This is Truth as I witness the overcoming all around me, the people in my life that have been mistreated, ill used, abused and then there is the and yet part, and yet, they do the incredible by overcoming the slavery of old patterns, thoughts, super imposed upon them by outside sources and they claim their own mental, spiritual, social-pyscho freedom. Forged in the fire, we are shaped and beautifully molded by our experiences and yes there is a gift to be claimed and at the same, cruelty is the most abhorrent teacher, not to be held in esteem, it comes from darkness, never from The Light. Emancipation is hard won, it speaks to the imbued Spirit of God, the Fire in man, in woman. My breath is His, my heart beat powered by unseen hands. He guides my thoughts when I listen with my heart and then, freedom is mine. 

Night Closes In

One of those days...it's been one of those days, the kind that feels lost and listless. It is grey outside, cold, damp, dreary and with the weather comes a blanket of restless sleepiness. The great fall of summer is announcing itself, with trees letting go of leaves to litter the ground, colourfully at first, crunchy under foot and than they dry, shrivel or become sodden and brown breaking apart and disintegrating until they are no more. I am in the throws of sorrow, sodden as it were, with unshed tears. There is much suffering and sadness, cruelty and unspoken pain and I can't help but feel it, and feel the helplessness that goes hand in hand with being witness, hands pressed together, eyes turned upward, longing for relief, not for myself, for the suffering of others. The weeping, it threatened to overtake me, non stop, the dam has burst and now I stop stunned at the comfort and convenience of tears shed, falling freely with no purpose except relief of a burdened soul. The darkness, it wants to pervade, prevail. The Light, it whispers you are mine and mine alone, Trust in Me. I am caught between the two as night closes in. 

Death, the great thief

Death is the great thief, separating us from one another in an earthy surreal way. Memories play tricks on us, replaying captured video of laughter, knowing looks of love and compassionate understanding, connecting me, to you, forever. I think of my Father as I write, feeling sadness wash over me, wanting him close and knowing that in this life, he is never far and yet, he is a whisper, a rustle of leaves, a presence that I can neither see nor touch, only long for. A close friend got the call, you know, the one that forever lodges black and heavy in the heart~your Father died, these are the words her unknowing ears had to receive and transmit to the rest of all of her. Incomprehensible, unacceptable, unknowable, choiceless death, the reminder that I did not make me, you did not make you and we do not choose our own existence or departure~to say otherwise is cruel because it means we willingly leave vast sucking holes of sorrow behind us for those that long for our remaining, one last look, one last cuddle, one last I love you. The loss is unbearable and the world becomes a grey never never land, a whole person gone from sight, except in the video of the mind, the heart. I grieve now, for the loss of my Father, gone 14 years ago as my heart aches for my friend and her loving Daddy, James Albert Coppard, gone from this world to become a gentle breeze, a whisper of I am still here, with you. Melanie, my heart breaks for your loss, this is in loving memory of your Dad, Jim Coppard. 

Hear

Friday nights are special in our family because we typically get together with The Langs. Theirs plus ours makes for some crazy laughter and conversation with some food and drink thrown in for good measure. We become one functionally dysfunctional mass of people and the volume is always turned up on hilarity. The standing joke when someone chokes and sputters on food or drink is "are you choking, may I help you, I'm trained in First Aid?" Sometimes we insist, no really may I help you, even when the person is clearly able to cough and clear whatever got lodged temporarily in the throat. This brings me to my point, that I am trained in emotional first aid, as many are. First aid can save a life and so too can emotional first aid, in the moment at least. When asking a conscious person if they need help, there is an inherent understanding that the person being asked is at choice, capable of response, yes, help me or no, I don't want/need/agree to being helped. The question puts both the asker and the respondent in clear positions with one another. This clarity is fantastic in its resolution of what will happen next. What if the asking does not occur? What if I/you, swoop in and attempt to save the day, rescue someone perceived to be needing first aid of the emotional kind and we steal from them the power to choose? In coaching, everyone is considered naturally creative resourceful and whole, capable of asking for what they need for self healing, from the inside out. I am a band aid, a tissue, a shoulder to cry on, I am a stitch that fades in time as wounds mend and scar over. It is the wounded that must take care, love themselves well and seek help when they feel they cannot go it, the painful suffering, alone. This is learned and it first must be taught, to ask respectfully, can I help you? After the asking there comes the wait, the standing guard, the self management to refrain from insisting on rushing in, trusting that the one being asked is able to choose and must not be put upon "for their own good". Ask, wait, listen...hear. 

Spark Plugs

Recently, I was called a spark plug. I looked this term up as a metaphor and read "Spark plugs infuse energy and catalyze forward movement". Holy Junipers, I like this very much. Yes, I am a spark plug, I energetically have the ability to inspire and motivate others in the direction of the claiming of their own power in choice making, liking and then loving themselves and taking ownership for who they are now and who they want to become and live their lives as...as in Who am I and Who do I want people to know me as? It's a rough ride, taking responsibility for who I am, for who you are. Let's be clear, if you are living, you are making choices and the choices have little lives of their own once they are made. Choose to speak and the likelihood of being heard may go up. Choose to be silent and the voice inside of you doesn't go away, it continues talking, perhaps berating you for not speaking, accusing others for not magically listening, telling you that people don't care about you and what you have to say is just not important enough. You get sore throats, choked up as it were, from silencing yourself. The lie may be that you are keeping the peace, or it doesn't matter and worse yet, that people aren't worth talking to because they just don't get you anyway. No one person is more important than another, this is the gift of being human. Claiming, reclaiming, making my choices MY OWN, taking own-er-ship for YOUR OWN life without escape into excuses or blaming others, this is the beginning of empowerment. I know many Spark Plugs, Change Catalysts, Difference Makers, I am in excellent dynamic, energized company...John Doan, this one's for you, thanks for the huge acknowledgement you fellow Spark Plug you!

Crusty Bits

I had a coffee this past summer with a scientist. Her area of study is immunology and as we spoke I caught a fleeting glimpse into this scary world of germs. The people who daily risk life and limb in this bio hazardous world of micro organisms with unseen teeth and claws that threaten life have levels that they travel up, which ultimately can drop them down, as in dead. If it weren't for these heroes in HazMat suits, life as we know it would be less safe and THIS is the understatement of the year. Here's the exciting news. As Meg shared what it is she is working on, I got an amazingly new and jaw dropping perspective. I learned that when you cut an apple and it begins to go brown, it is like a protective scab forming over the opening...this was astounding to me because somewhere in time I had been taught that the brown was a sign of rotting. Of course our skin acts the same way, protecting the juicy insides of us and when we are cut, we bleed and when the body is healthy and reacts just so, it will stop the bleeding, form a scab and keep foreign matter out, protecting the oh so sensitive and sweet insides of me, of you. Broken skin is a visible sign of injury, puncture, wounding...the broken heart shows visible signs of hurt through sad eyes, tears, anger, sickness. The natural inclination is to protect the heart, form a hardened crust around it to keep it safe from further assault and injury. When healing happens, scabs loose their necessity, they dry up and fall off, revealing miraculous healing underneath, new skin that is soft and tender, and yet strong and protective. I have scars, they tell my stories, of injury and healing. The crusty bits around my cuts and wounds fall off quickly and I am new underneath them. Each time I heal I am stronger, more resilient and grateful for the learning. What crusty bites need to fall off of you? This one is for you Meg Haggitt, thanks for the education and delightful conversation. 

Being a Jerk

I listened to and watched a powerful message yesterday about disposition. The messenger was insistent that we are all born with one, a particular brand of me, of you. He used the example of his five grandsons, each one very different, each one displaying natural inclinations toward quiet or excitability, gregariousness or solo retreat...these appear to be opposites and yet, they are not, they are simply descriptors of some predisposition to what is naturally comfortable. During a dog walk, I met a man with a huge black bouvier. We were across the street from one another and the dogs seemed interested in meeting, I had trepidation, my dog can be a jerk sometimes.The man encouraged me to take a chance, have our dogs get to know one another. His dogs name is Teddy, my dogs name is Caesar. The meeting was tentative, Teddy has a sweet and gentle disposition and he appeared to be generous with giving Caesar time and space to get familiar. During this getting to know you phase, Teddy's owner, John, spoke dog psychology to me, telling me it's all about the owner, that dogs react to the fear they pick up from their owners~in other words, if I remained calm and relaxed, my dog would too. Yes yes, me calm and relaxed, ok. My natural disposition leans toward fearlessness, nervousness in the face of meeting new people or being in different environments is rare for me...in other words, my dog has his own way of reacting to people, places, things, and other dogs~I don't usually factor into the equation. The dogs did get along, and John spoke amiably about The Dog Whisperer and to his credit, he did tell me a story about one instance where a little dog introduced into a big dog pack just could not remain there, the dogs disposition was to terrorize the much larger I could eat you in one chomp dogs. This was a bit of foreshadowIng, as you shall see. We continued our walk together for about ten houses and there we met Zoro, a gorgeous black lab. Zoro had submission style splattered himself onto the sidewalk in eager anticipation of meeting two new dogs. This is when John got to see Caesar being a jerk. Ha, I grin as I write this! A snake is a snake is a snake, a dog is a dog is a dog. A snake acts like a snake and dogs act like dogs and HUMANS, we have our human ways too. Oh, the sweet differences though, freedom of will affords us adaptability and choice. After pulling my snarling dog away from sweet and gentle Zoro, John and I continued our walk. He was quite startled and surprised and I could not help myself from saying "you didn't believe me, did you, about Caesar?" I know my dog~he is sweet and gentle, loving and adorable, and sometimes, he can be a jerk, just like ME!

Love Abundant

I am a difference making, I am the only one that speaks to Him, and I am the friendliest of friends of God...these are lyrics from the song Difference Making by the band NEEDTOBREATHE. I am a difference making, this I know is true. I am welcoming and loving, a source of great encouragement and playfull joy. I am a good listerner, a wise Truth teller and a lover of humanity. I am a giver and while this all sounds like a fantastic love fest for me, I have to confess that I am able, or enabled, to be all these things and more because I first received Love Abundant. I am nothing without this Love that flows freely from all around me and I could and have, resisted it many a time, lived unbelief, disbelief in being lovable. I make mistakes and have felt shame and from the shame there has been self beratement and a feeling of unworthiness has hijacked the me that is wonderful and sweet, kind loving and peaceful, pure of heart and mind and wanting only honesty and caring through sharing the Love. Yes, it is better to give than to receive and yet, the receiving must come first, from the One. We are not always taught love by the humans that form and shape us and there appears to be much need of unlearning muddled love, the kind that has strings attached and demands placed on it and conditions that must be met for it to stand on wobbly legs. Love is faithful, enduring and patient. When I'm a mess, and fallen, a bit mangled from my own ineptitude, He says I Love you just the way you are. He has taught that self love is only possible from receiving it first, and this I have~the self love and the receiving of it so that I too, can love another without condition. I show the way, I am NOT the way...but for the Grace of God go I. 

Wellness is a Choice

February 10th 2014 marks the day I recommitted to my own wellness. Self care is a choice and takes conscious effort. This statement seems contrary, that choice requires effort and yet, the Truth of the matter is that thoughts really do become things and so, in order to make wellness mine, I had to do some thinking on the matter, before it became, well...matter. Follow me: I was steadily gaining weight and my eating habits appeared to have a life of their own, they were a personality, a representation of what was going on inside. I was like a race car driver and my exercise and food and or drink consumption had variable speeds. Friday nights were break neck, careless indulgences reminiscent of the thank God it's Friday mentality that was encoded from grade school Monday-Friday indoctrination, with extra calories consumed as a celebratory hey I made it through another week attitude, woo hoo for me extravaganza. Saturday's may or may not have had the seem cut loose feeling and by Sunday, I was looking forward to the clean eating and excercise patterns that go along with the start of a work week. If ANY of this sounds familiar, describes what you have or are experiencing, than you are in good company and as it were, sleepy company. Sleepy physically, because this type of body abuse impacts energy levels and the ability to pay attention and focus, and on a metaphorical level, you have been living as though you have been sleep walking...the evidence is yours to assess. I am not a pattern, I am a living breathing choice able human being imbued with the brilliance of my God. This shell I'm in is my Temple, with the Holy Spirit residing in me as my Guide. I am awake, alert, lively, well and it, the wellness, was and is mine to claim. Being awake means being aware. What is is what YOU have created, not some thing that has HAPPENED to you. If you are reading this, you have your own knowing of what it means to choose. Wellness is a choice. 

Wasps

Be brave, this was the quiet encouragement I heard from my companion as I shifted and dodged wasps during an outdoor lunch. I didn't want to hurt the wasps and I didn't want them to hurt me. I watched as my friend stayed still and gently removed his glasses, a wasp had flown behind a lens and landed on his face, close to his eye. Unperturbed, both he and the wasp seemed to have a rather peaceable close encounter without harm or alarm. Be brave, he said this to me twice, it was a command and I hear the words again as I contemplate their meaning. In the face of risk, in this case of injury via a waspy sting, fear can command reaction, response, his instruction to be brave spoke confidence to my being and a fear not blanket temporarily covered me. The wasps were persistent and so I moved the dessert that attracted them with the hope of redirecting their attention...this, as I write, this is what my wise friend was doing for me, redirecting my attention, commanding me to be brave, twice. It feels like foreshadowing to me, a moment in time captured that I will look back on and recall for the fortification of my soul, be brave, and I shall. For you, Bud Carter, my friendship you do have Obi Wan and I am glad to know you. 

Lost & Found

Lost and found. When was the last time you lost something valuable to you? I'm not talking about misplacing keys or your credit card, although these can be anxiety inducing events, I'm talking about something precious and irreplaceable. The feeling of dis ease, the sinking feeling that the lost item may be gone forever, it causes a restlessness that is disquieting and persistent, like a dull tooth or headache, not debilitating however near impossible to ignore. The practice of retracing steps, going back in time to the last time you and your item were in the same place, this sometimes works to retrieve the item from lost and place it back into the found category. When searching there may be attached a feeling of desperation, as in what will I do without this item, I miss it and want it back and I cannot rest until I find it. Separation anxiety ensues and there is a heightened feeling of despair when the search is fruitless and reunion appears to be out of reach. As time goes by, you think of the item and the loss and while you have survived without it, there is still a sadness and longing for the item when it crosses your mind that it is gone, forever. Sigh...the same feeling happens when the soul slips unnoticed into the lost category and no search party is sent to retrieve it. The ache is dull and may not demand our full attention and yet it is real and worthy of search and rescue, far more so than any material item could ever be. What if there is a search and rescue team, looking for you, calling you home, wanting you to know that you are the precious one, the apple of someone's eye, that there is unrest until you feel found, until the team holds you securely in their arms? This is Grace, and it is Amazing. 

Blurry Vision

Today I went to the pond. It is a place I go to pray and meditate after a good workout at the gym. I go to the gym to take the edge off, it clears my mind and is like prep work for my soul. Between the gym and the pond, there is a roadway and as I walk from one to the other, I like to practice my balance abilities by tight rope like walking on top of a curb. Two weekends ago I got some exceptional coaching from a friend and she mentioned a tight rope image that appeared as we spoke. There it was, a glaringly obvious representation of the struggle I had been having, the doing and the being part of my existence. I live in my body and yet, without my soul getting the love and attention it needs, there is really no point to being here. This relestness is always an indication to me that I am out of balance and must recalibrate. Time is short and my attention seems to be leaving off from interest in distractions...the question I heard posed recently is "is what I'm doing an investment in my soul?". I watched today, at the end of my mediatation, a seagull as he took flight. He flew in the direction of the sun and I could not follow him with my eyes and I wondered, how can he fly in that direction and still see? As I looked down, I saw on the pond, the reflection of a bird in flight and I followed this blurred watery version of the real thing until he landed...maybe my eyes have been on what isn't real for a long time, maybe my vision has been blurred and maybe now I know the difference between real and fuzzy pseudo...The Light, it shines Truth on all things, including blurry vision. This ones for you Allyson Woodrooffe, love Linda

Dancing Eyes

Laughter. It is so underrated by some. Listen to the conversations around you, the seriousness of tone, the heaviness of presence, the lack of inclination to go towards the Light. Last night I was in exceptional company, with lots of laughter. The personalities in the room were large and each person gathered had their own brand of wit. There was something spectacular about the interplay in the group and the eruption into laughter or in one instance, a sardonic grin with a small chuckle that spread like wildfire, one stick person at a time until we were all laughing. This morning, I recall the feeling and I have laughed out loud countless times already today. World peace? It ain't gonna happen and when it does, it will be a sign of the beginning of the end of this life as we know it. I remember a line from Voltaire "God is playing to an audience that is afraid to laugh"...ah, how true this is. If God likes to play and laugh, and I believe this to be true, than perhaps taking ourselves too seriously is part of the joke? Laugh a little, cry a little, laugh while you are crying, there is room for all of this and so much more. I like to look for signs of life, signs of laughter in eyes, that's when I know that I am in good company. Dancing eyes never lie. 

No. On a train ride to Toronto last weekend I had the pleasure of being seated next to a near 90 year old woman. We spoke of many things and at one point I asked "to what do you attribute your longevity." Her reply was the word no and she explained "there is one extra letter in yes compared to no. If you say no you can always say yes later...yes is a commitment". The same adage applies to salt, you can't take it out after you have added too much...it could ruin a meal. This makes me think of the no that comes repeatedly and vehemently from human two year olds as they assert themselves when adults attempt to impose upon them. It goes something like "eat your peas, they are good for you". This is the beginning of the breaking of the word and will behind the word no. We are creatures of conformity, not naturally, no is far more natural than yes, it happens gradually to please another, and symptoms of pain, disease, depression, physical ailments and long suffering insecurities are the evidence of having said yes when what we really wanted to say is NO. In coaching, there is an introduction to the concept of no, imagine, having to teach others this God given right, in a free country? Biblically, Matthew 5:37 tells us "But let your statement be, 'Yes, yes' or 'No, no', anything beyond these is of evil." How many times has yes gotta YOU into trouble? 

Cockroaches

Scurrying into darkness

Cockroaches are defined as: any numerous chiefly nocturnal insects; some are domestic pests

The word cockroach curls my lip; the thought of even a one, makes me feel disgust. The thought of a room full makes me uneasy and queasy. I know that when bright light enters a dark cockroach infested room, they scuttle and scurry to find the cover of darkness, where they can again feel at ease to do whatever it is cockroaches do.

All manner of human hidden things are like cockroaches

This brings me to lies: lies of omission, manipulation, rationalization, gossip, and all manner of human hidden things that are like cockroaches of the soul, dark and ugly, hidden from sight with insidiousness as their companion of doom and gloom. 

The lies seem to serve: sometimes they are told for the purpose of stolen pleasure, justification for speaking cruelty out of a sense of selfishness and entitlement, or perhaps, jealousy? You name it, we all have our masquerading "reasons"  for allowing cockroaches, the pleasures of the flesh, into our lives. Temporary pleasure is the allure, and giving into the pleasure means that we compromise our integrity and walk with hidden guilt and soul crushing shame. You may be able to hide the truth from others but you and I, we can never fully escape the knowing that niggles at our being, the one that says, "You, I see you and what you have done: I will make you feel dis ease until you speak the truth out loud."

Truth kills pestilence with The Light

Then, there is the light, the dawning of day. As light splinters across the floor in intensity growing rays, the cockroaches flee, perhaps as gradually as the light rays appear? a withdrawal for fear of being seen. They are creatures of the night. The light scatters them and they must find darkened corners and cracks for protection.

Lies are like this, they cannot stand the Light nor can they survive it. Truth makes us free, and kills the pestilence that causes soul infection. 

Far worse...

On Sept 10th my husband and I sat in our basement, feet away from the furnace room that also houses the sump pump. My husband followed his instincts and asked me to check the room, he could hear the pump working overtime and with the storm outside, a flood was a possibility. The sump pump was spewing water joined by the drain, and water began filling the finished living area. I write with joy in my heart because we had the precious gift of time. As a family, we began moving our furniture and other items out of the way as the water poured in filling up the carpet and walls. A quick call to our insurance company TD Meloche Monnex, yielded an equally quick response and we had a restoration crew here within hours of the event, vacuuming out the water logged carpets and installing fans to dry the wet, and the storm, it stopped, giving us a reprieve. No sign of wreckage is evident from the outside of our home since damaged carpet and walls were removed from our driveway, as though it had never happened, the flood I mean. Others in my neighbourhood have not faired as well and each time I pass their homes with the debris piled high I am reminded to be grateful, to have compassion for the plight of others, to remain faithful and trusting that this to shall pass and there are far worse situations than a minor flood that our insurance miraculously has completely covered...I pray for those who are in true peril, whose lives are in jeopardy from evil forces or illness, God be with them this day. 

Drained & Flooded

In August I attended part two of a four part Leadership program. On the last day of the retreat, I was assigned to the Water Pod. Upon my return home, I learned that our pool had drained itself of water. I didn't know it at the time, that this draining was a metaphor, a foreshadowing of what was to come. On retreat, I got filled up and my re entry into family, friends and the familiar of life appeared smooth at first and than I saw it, the pain everywhere, in the bodies, minds, eyes of those around me. A sense of overwhelm hit and I scrambled in my heart with what I could do to allievate the pain, be a resource for the suffering, make myself available for their refilling, healing, heart wholeness. This is when it happened, the slow and steady draining of me, emptied out as a drink offering. In church, I heard about the importance of being filled up in order to be poured out, there must be this balance between the two. In coaching, everyone is naturally creative resourceful and whole~taking care of self is essential to be an effective coach, taking care of others is discouraged in favour of knowing that each of us has the internal strength to tap into (yes, water metaphors abound) for our own well being, the coach guides the client to the well, for the fullness of their being. This week, the flood gates opened and many homes on my street and in the city got their fill, sewer systems overloaded and basements taking on the excess water...oddly enough, as our basement filled with water our pool refilled and the water has remained. Remaining buoyant is the exciting challenge and my natural response. It does not require huge effort on my part to stay uplifted in times of difficulty in fact I thanked God for the blessing of the flood, His plan is always perfect. The crack in my foundation showed up yesterday and I flooded myself with a short lived pity party, a little too much alcohol and quite the headache this morning. Lesson? While I know everything happens for a reason, I must give myself permission to acknowledge that some things are a real pain in the butt, that emptied pools cost money and flooded basements interrupt business and life and I'm not completely ok with it. Even Jesus cried over the death of his good friend Lazarus, knowing that it caused loved ones pain and also knowing that He would raise Lazarus from the dead. It would be a lie to pretend that the disruption isn't disruptive, because it is and yet, I'm still okay, alive and well and awaiting what is next in the way of metaphors and their playful sometimes painful way of teaching me, teaching me many a lesson. Drained, filled up, blessed always, I float on the Lilly Pad of life and grin with anticipation of next. I dedicate this to my fellow Water Lillies, Resilient Gina, Effervescent Jane, Huge Hearted E'Stephie, and Smiley go get em and win em over Marcy! Ribbit 

Hearts & Factory Settings

Returning hearts to their factory setting. I love children, dogs and the elderly, because when left to their own devices, their natural inclinations, they are completely 100% themselves. Kids have huge hearts, they see and know things based on observation and instinct and when they trust someone, it is with abandon. Dogs are the same, the love is real and forthcoming and so is the honest to goodness reaction they have when threatened and sensing danger. The elderly, when free, don't really give a damn about offending, they have paid their dues and tell "it" like "it" is so to speak, a brand of honesty that can be trusted. I'm in the in between of life, a child no more and while I feel no where near to being elderly, I do like and enjoy the options available to both age groups and I live them, daily, more and more. My work on this earth is to be a soul tour guide, to be with others as they find their way home, back to their heart and their original factory setting. I have found my heart on my return trip home and it is glorious. The path I travel has room for more, I welcome fellow travellers.

Touch With Your Eyes

Oh, how I wanted to touch

Touch with your eyes: this message was neatedly typed and posted on little stands in front of magnificent art on display in a gallery in Sausalito. Oh, how I wanted to touch, feel the work, experience it with my hands and I'm not the only one, thus the notes. This gentle reminder for guests in the store held in it the knowing that while eyes do not break things, touching sometimes does, and when something breaks, there is a price to pay.

Ownership is permission to touch

I played with the word attraction and realized that within the word, is action. When attracted, it feels normal, natural, compelling even to act, follow through on the attraction. I did not touch, I resisted the urge, the precious items in the gallery were not mine and I was not buying them, I did not own them and would not be owning them~ownership is permission to touch. Deprived of hands on feeling, I used my sight to drink in the beauty of the artistry and in a quiet corner I wept, filled up with the experience of knowing that these amazing artists had this incredible ability to see the world a certain way and capture it whimsically so that those who observe the finished work can experience what they see, feel, love in life.

People are like fine art

Love is crafted

It is unpopular to say that I belong to my husband, that he is mine and I am his, that we have paid for ownership of one another in marriage and yet, this is the gift of permission to touch. This ownership, it is not slavery, it is abiding love. I touch others, with my eyes, my ears, my heart, sometimes with permission, my hands~it is intimate and close and loving and by no means sexual in nature. People are like fine art, crafted by Hands Unseen. Learning the when where and how of handling with care can take a life time, some blood sweat and tears and maybe this is the masterpiece that we create for others to see. 

Bored

If it's not interesting, I'm not interested. Boring sucks up time, it is an abuse of an essential life element, the brain. I recall driving my grade school aged son to class one morning and while I drove, he gave me many a detail about a video game he liked to play. At first I did the polite thing, the mindless compulsory thing of feigning interest by saying ah huh, oh yes and then it hit me, he wasn't about to stop any time soon and the details kept coming incessantly and I was drowning in a sea of endless nothingness and I couldn't take it anymore! Than I said it, the unthinkable, I told him I was bored. I shared with my son that if he wanted to be in relationship with others, he had to take into consideration how the other person felt, if they were interested and if not, what would interest them in continuing the conversation? In coaching, there is something called bottom lining, a way to say what you mean without the story telling and rambling details that threaten to put others to sleep. If you are nodding off right now, it's time for you to stop reading this, I wouldn't want you to get bored!

The Torch

"We are not trying to fix disabled people, we are trying to fix the community"...this I quote from the Executive Director of the Alice Saddy organization, Bud Carter.  I am stunned again as I contemplate his words. Alice Saddy is the name of a woman that dedicated her short lived life to being an advocate, a voice for those that had been muted, put aside, hidden away from society and ostensibly ignored if not completely forgotten. The love of humanity torch that Alice lit has been passed on and shines brightly as the staff that honour and serve developmentally disabled clients, continue to work as advocates so that physical needs are met AND hopes, dreams, strengths and capabilities are factored into the care equation. Autonomy in community, to be seen and know as a contributing valuable member of society, isn't this what we ALL want? I see us all as developmentally disabled and enabled at so many points in our lives. Each time I judge, assume, I show my own inability to see clearly, weakening my capacity as a compassionate human that deeply desires connection with others without barriers...this is the human condition, to love and be loved is our greatest need. We must of necessity do this together, this love thing, it does not exist in isolation. All you need is love, da da da da, all you need is love...thanks Alice Saddy, Ken MacLellan, Bud, the Alice staff, for the reminder. 

Oscar Barahona

While in San Fransisco recently, I had a Lyft driver named Oscar. He is a young man in his early twenties. We spoke about his newly approved citizenship, that he had been living in the states since childhood and became a citizen a short time ago.The details are fuzzy to me now~I wasn't taking notes during the ride and it was 6 a.m. While the specifics of his story may be fun facts, it is the essence of Oscar that I attempt here to capture, he impressed me greatly with his natural wisdom and peaceful presence. Oscar had a lot to lose as a kid, being an immigrant. He could see far into the furture that mistakes, wrong moves, a criminal record would detour him from the life of choice and freedom he knew was available to him in the United States. Being deported loomed in his young mind and with the long term goal of staying, belonging, holding his place in society and community, he chose repeatedly to stay at peace with those around him who sought to engage him in fight, arguments, law breaking. His philosophy is "then what?" As in if I do this, then what will happen?  I am struck as I write by the deep knowing this young man has, of the now, the future and outcomes.THIS is emotional intelligence, when a person holds their own and can't be swayed to disregard or dishonour themselves in the heat of the moment. Perhaps self respect is the huge bottom line here and that all things are added to this love of self, wanting the best for myself, you wanting the best for yourself and making choices based on this truth. It is not hedonistic, it is not selfish, this love, it is the starting place for peace within and evidence of this becomes a display for others to witness, experience, soak in and wonder about. One of my heroes is Norman Vincent Peale, he marvelled at the greatness in humanity, I follow in his footsteps, grateful for the lessons along the way. If I do this...then what?  Thank you Oscar Barahona, for reminding me that one moment in time invariably leads to the next, and the next and so on, off into infinity~each moment and the choices therein count. 

Fauk Faulk

I belong to a tribe of seagulls. I signed up for a Leadership program that spans a ten month period and this is where I met my flock. Being a seagull has increased my awareness of seagull presence and behaviours. Seagulls love food, are curious and gregarious. When other birds occupy pond space, the seagulls are the ones that dip and play in the wind and water, squawking as they rise and drop, land for a brief second only to take off again, like drunken sky sailors with an adventous quirky flight pattern that only seagulls understand.They aren't the most serious of birds and their in your face do you care to share your French fries attitude could be unnerving if you don't understand them the way that other seagulls do. These birds are no holds barred, they are the ones that are laughing and playing, getting down to serious food gathering business when need be, always with an almost cocky attitude of you are going to share with me, right?  That's my flock, my people, my tribe. Sharing for us is caring, loving, being with, no holds or withholding is allowed as we fly, swoop, gather, disperse and purposefully reconnect, fauking all the way (that's seagull speak for how we communicate with one another) in the sky over houses, dancing for a beloved seagull, grieving for another, laughing and crying as we witness and see one another in our agony and glory, knowing, always knowing that invitation is not required, it is automatic and ever present for each memeber of the flock. To my tribe, my flock, fauk, fauk...translation...I love you.

Elephant Sighting

Hi. This simple word can be the start of a beautiful relationship. Hi, hello, these are small inivitations, itty bitty gateways to secret soul gardens. I am about to state the obvious~when out in public human beings are bound to encounter other human beings and each time we do, we get to decide what that will be like, at least for us. I like people and when someone is approaching and about to pass me in the opposite direction, I like to make eye contact, smile and say a quick hello or good morning, some kind of greeting that acknowledges their presence, a way for them to know that they are noticed. When the other does not look my way, especially when we are only two, it saddens me, it feels like a lost opportunity for the exchange of pleasantry, an inexpensive way of showing another that they are valuable. I met an elephant on a pathway recently. My urge was to say hello and I did and she met me there, welcoming me into her soul garden with her eyes, heart opened wide. We started a friendship (she is a human, part of the elephant tribe) and I am so grateful because for some powerful reason that I cannot yet explain, we were meant to meet, to share and as it turns out, we have our faith in common and this alone is a gift beyond measure. We live far apart and yet, I feel her in my heart and because we were both willing to share, my short time in her company has left a lasting impression. Fearless, I am a fearless follower of Christ and He leadith me to green pastures where many a wild elephant roams. I dedicate this to you Shera Johnson, you have left huge stomp marks on my heart, much love, Linda Byers. 

Melting

Melting, I'm melting...as I type this, I hear the wicked witch of the west from The Wizard of Oz say this in my head as she becomes a clothing and nasty essence puddle of nothingness on the ground.  That's how I feel, as though all the nasty stuff is melting out of me, leaving me, just me, a ball of energy loving the world around me, gathering strength from the rustle of wind blown leaves, looking into the eyes of strangers when they dare to connect and see, just me, just them and all the possibilities that are and can be. I just returned from a retreat, the theme was/is, create from other. In order to do this, there must be wall removal work, a willingness to be intimate and a strong urge to speak truth in service of establishing trust. The trust building is gradual, experiential and very physical. How close can I get to another human being without scaring myself and them, with the soul purpose (not a misspelling here) the soul purpose of them knowing me, me knowing them, no barriers, an us feeling that is astounding and glorious all at once. Yes, I speak of other worldly things and why not?  There will always be bills to pay, money to make, illness and disaster...reality stays and keeps us anchored to the earth no matter how hard we try to fly.  The soul, it has it's own flight pattern, it cares not of earthly things, it longs to belong, be seen, felt, met, acknowledged and cuddled in close. Lonely does not have to exist when all we need to do is invite another in and and AND accept when we are the invited.  

God & Treasure Hunting

What if life is one big glorious treasure hunt?  Close to my home there is a man made pond, populated by lovely Canadian geese, surrounded by wildly growing plants and trees and a walking path for suburbanites.  I have taken up praying there, offering God my day and I do this physically using movement.  Yesterday I was almost finished when I heard someone on the path and this quickly brought my worship to a close.  As I walked toward the hill to leave, I looked toward the stranger to say hello and he said "you don't have to be afraid of me". I said I wasn't afraid, that I had been praying and I didn't want him to think I was weird~while I am clearly not embarrassed about praying and honouring God publicly, I prefer to be alone with God at His lovely pond.  This prayer comment brought us into conversation and the man spoke about his important work as a scientist. He has "invented" several healing pharmaceutical products and believes he will be the man remembered for helping many. I didn't insult him by pointing out I had never heard of him before, nor would I likely hear about him again. He doesn't believe in God and told me that as a scientist, he has learned that everything "is built from bottom to top, not from top down".  A God in the "sky" does not exist because it doesn't match up with the facts, or so it would seem. The Buider, He was taken out of the equation, nullified in this mans mind and heart. His own hands and mind could only and will only ever be able to "build" from what is, the treasures that he discovers before him, nothing of his own...he has created from what is, not from what isn't, as we all do.  He had a half bag of bread in his hands, to feed the geese.  Somewhere inside of him, he knows, he cannot explain the beautiful geese that Grace the pond, nor the flowers that grow wildly in riotous colour, honouring The One who made them for His own pleasure and ours. Today, I glorified God for His creation and the gift of the treasure hunt, my hope is that the friendly bird feeding stranger will one day do the same. 

Danger

I see lies in the eyes of a stranger, you'll be living in danger~these words come from an old Ace of Base song, Living in Danger.  I was raised to suspect others, to be fearful of them, to lock my car doors while driving and check, check constantly, surveillance like for predators, rapists, murderers. That is the extreme and the more "subtle" part of my education was that "no one can be trusted". That's not me, that's NOT ME my soul has cried out. I like people, I believe in them, I want to be with them and share, love, grow...trust.  I have always looked for points of connection, how is that person over there similar to me, so that we can bond and I can feel connected with them, safe in their company and visa versa?  Safe, there is the word~I was taught fear, to feel unsafe, at risk. This fear has been a trap and contrasts sharply with my natural inclination to be wild and free, untethered and a rebel who sees truth, speaks truth, living with arms wide open for whatever and whomever comes my way. Built in is instinct and intuition, we all have this, natural safety alarm systems that say nay or yea to people, places, activities and things and I am learning to trust mine by listening, sensing, feeling.  Not everyone can be trusted and clearly, others are worthy of trust and so much more. This is the power of coaching, the self awareness becomes a heightened 6th sense of knowing me, knowing you.  One of the beautiful gifts in all of this is the differences, the knowing that I can be connected to others AND be so different from them, without fear of, of...REJECTION, which ultimately hurts and jeopardizes my sense of well being and safety.  There, I have said it now, it is out there and phew, that feels really great! I am losing my fear of rejection and along with this, the self protective mechanisms, the saboteurs, that would have me see other humans as threats, rather than beautiful beings created in Gods own image.  I accept the challenge of embracing differences and staying in relationship with others in a loving way, including with myself.