M&Ms and my Dad

M&Ms, I have been thinking about this chocolatey candy a lot lately.  I have used it to describe myself, crunchy and colourful on the outside and melty and soft on the inside. That was my dad, when I think about him, that's how I see him. Just before Father's Day, I had him on my mind. On Father's Day, I thought not of him, not once. When I read the thoughtful words that others wrote about their dads, it hit me, I didn't acknowledge my dad. A day later, with my son in the car, I said dad, I'm sorry I didn't acknowledge you on Father's Day, I'm still a little mad at you but I'm working through it, and I am.  I am working through my thoughts, my beliefs, my feelings, my hate, my love, my adoration for a man that didn't have words to communicate, who went mute when in pain and who withdrew when he suffered loss, hiding what perhaps he saw as weakness to share, his grief perhaps too big to bare.  He taught me to suffer alone, that asking for help was a sign of weakness, that leaning on someone else and trusting them to help carry the heavy burden of grief would end in disappointment and disaster. That was the crusty outside of the man, the man that he had become from being in a world where home, siblings, mother had been stolen from him at the age of twelve~he was fighting for his life and killing communists when he was forced to leave or die...on the inside my dad was and is pure love, the melty chocolatey centre was the tender heart to heart man that whistled everyday and came through the door after work singing a new song, taking off his tie and skipping for us and making us laugh in church and at the dinner table. He was intense and colourful and crazy fun all at once and he was the most honest man I have ever known.  I laugh as I cry and write and realize how much I am like him, intolerant of nonsense, especially my own. The last time I was with my dad in my car, he was sick and wasn't supposed to eat chocolate. There were M&Ms in the car and he reached for them and I reminded him dad, you aren't supposed to eat those and in his weakened state he said, oh yeah. Namaste Daddy, I see you now, not with the eyes of a young daughter in pain, I see you with the eyes of an adult who makes mistakes, errors in judgement AND is all shades of fun and laughter, darkness and sadness unhidden from the world, free to be me no matter who is watching and Dad, I hope the streets in Heaven are paved with delicious colourful crunchy melty M&Ms, eat as many as you want! Your sweetheart, Linda.

Heaven Bound

I have been playing with the idea that urges are a divine prompting, that the world is awash in cosmic breadcrumbs and that following Spirit is the quintessential way to ones own life purpose. During Natures Horse, a coaching workshop with horses, I observed my pony Taffy in his herd. He followed closely behind a horse named Spirit and I could not take my eyes from him. My thought was why is Taffy following Spirit and this became an echo in my head until the why part of the question dropped off and the refrain became following Spirit, following Spirit...oh, I get it, folllllowwwwing Spirit. I am learning what is my own, what is outside of me and when I am still, I hear Spirit whisper, urge and quietly drop breadcrumbs for me to see as they sparkle and shimmer and bid me to come follow.  My energy, unchecked, can be a wild pony, drawing my attention this way and that, throwing me off course and far away from the path my God has cleared for me. I am free to take the path, which ever one I want and when I choose to follow Spirit, it is in obedience to the Wisdom that I know leads me home, Heaven bound.

Wheat & Thorns

I'm travelling back in time to free my spirit. The Road Less Travelled by author Scott Peck stands out in my memory as the book of books, the one that challenges the reader to chase down thoughts, their origins, the seeds that sprouted and grew and became perspectives, all of this while a person, you and I, are unaware. Minds are fertile ground and many seeds are planted there and just as child grows into adolescent into adult, so do the seeds grow...whether thistle and thorn, weeping willow or mighty oak, seeds become a living manifestation of whatever is planted. This makes me feel subject to, as in choiceless and reactive and in my adulthood, I recognize that I resented much of what was planted in me, the play it safe and averageness of a rote existence, the predictability of it all and the massive boredom that accompanies the mundane routines, someone else's idea of what it means to live, a survival mode that is a slow death rather than a vibrant existence. I am fortunate, I have the luxury of complaint because of the thoughtfulness of others who like routine, who appreciate a schedule, who understand that getting things and getting things done have worth and value. Along side the seed of  wheat grew up the seed of a thorny spiky plant and as I go back in time, I am able to see both and appreciate how strongly rooted each were. Yes, I was subject to others, their ways, their planting of seeds AND, I too am a planter, a gardener in my own life and the lives of others. I am conscious, aware and at choice and I choose what when and where to plant. The soul has it's only language, the road less travelled is it's winding pathway through life and along the way, we get to sprinkle seeds of love and freedom were others may follow not far behind.

Ego Be Damned

Humility as a strength is what I am investigating, the essence of which may not be captured in the written word and yet, I have witnessed its soft glow and it's radiant warmth from many and my Saviour epitomizes this seemingly vulnerable strength.  Not my will, thine Lord...in my need to be valuable, useful, have my existence be meaningful I have endeavoured to learn and than teach what I have learned, at times forcing my hand with the idea that I have the answers and I can rescue others from pain by guiding them to MY solution for THEIR problem.  Haha, I laugh at the imagine of me chasing people and me yelling "hey, hey you, I know I can help you, hey, slow down, why you running so fast for goodness sakes, I have something HUGE to teach you!"  Thankfully, I can laugh about this and I am so grateful for the knowledge, the Truth, that everyone is naturally created as whole, imbued with a blueprint for solutions and problem solving and Gods accessible wisdom if only they chose to seek, find, ask. Jesus didn't chase down people to teach, He was followed. Jesus never gave advise, He answered questions and spoke Truth, even when He knew that wasn't what people wanted to hear.  Jesus wasn't in a popularity contest, He had a message, a clearly defined life purpose statement, a mandate from His Father in Heaven and He modelled humility each time He bowed His head, God Himself, bowed His head in reverence and prayed Thy will not mine. With the forces of good and evil at His finger tips, He chose to humble himself for the sake of others, no claim to fame, pure love in action. Ego be damned...

Sweet Release

Without safety, you don't have anything~I read this recently in a book and this premise speaks loudly and clearly into all aspects of human experience. Great fears come from insecurity, a boundless rampant sense that danger lurks and imaginable and unimaginable horrors await where traps and deep pitfalls strewn on the path of life threaten to drop and than engulf the hapless victim. Pick a fear, any fear, yours or someone else's and along side will chase and follow, perhaps lead from the front, the many tag along story lines that give the fear personality and convincing life like qualities as you breath into the fear, enlivening it.  Let's take one of my fears...even as I say this and step out onto the limb, I feel the branch beneath my feet grow thinner, my heart races and I contemplate dare I, dare I go into the dark?  Vulnerability makes me feel weak and I hesitate, what if I share and regret it, what if I step out further, to the near end of the branch turned into wafer thin can't hold my weight limb?  Which fear do I share?  My ego wants to protect me, have me share a noble fear and my humility, what my spirit longs for puts it's foot down and says be honest now, you started this safety/fear thing, hold, stay, work through it...my fear, my fear, how do I name it...my fear is holding me captive and now I will speak it boldly so that the chains are broken. My fear is that I will speak and what I say will be dismissed, rejected as unworthy. Yes, this is a true statement and with it comes the mute button, the one my fear tries to press to keep me from experiencing the rejection:  if I don't speak, I can't be rejected~it is better to remain silent and be thought the fool than to speak and remove all doubt...good God, this liar has been with me for a very long time.  Yes, I may be thought the fool by speaking AND I may be thought of as brilliant, witty, sharp, any number of wonderful things. Ahhhh, sweet release, sweet public may be rejected AND who gives a damn release. What are you afraid of?

Leadership an Acid Bath & Soul Exfoliant

I am enrolled in a Leadership Program hosted by The Coaches Training Institute. It consists of four retreats spaced out over a span of ten months and without going into detail, it is a mighty powerful vehicle for learning about self, others and so much more. I received some outstanding coaching this week from two CTI trained coaches, Suzanne Gavin and Julie Veitch and the FREEDOM that comes from having been coached is invaluable. During my session today, many saboteurs were uncovered and named for me and my intuitive coach, Julie, saw an umbrella saboteur that I named "if I just" covering a whole tribe (we laughed when she labelled the hord of saboteurs a tribe). You know how the if I just statements go, don't you?  If I just try harder...if I just say/do the right thing...if I just shut up/tone it down/play nice...if I just is never ending. Coaching is an amazing event when received and one of the awareness' coaches are trained in is spotting and catching as it were, would be saboteurs, the voices in our heads that warn of danger and subsequently recommend status quo. Coaches want more than status quo for clients and as a client takes bold steps toward self actualization and dream fulfillment, the saboteurs become emboldened too, and many come out to wreak havoc in the life of the hero of the story, that is me, or you~we are the heros in our own life stories, wanting to live full and free lives of adventure, fun and on purpose.  Now, to return to Leadership...my tribe of saboteurs, they came out in full force today, tag teaming their attack~they are The Rescuer, Hairy Bastard, Pounce, Accomodating and The Offender~their presence is a great indicator that I am moving forward and they will not hold sway in keeping me back or still. Leadership is like an acid bath & soul exfoliate. It is designed to slowly wash, than scrub away the build up of dirt and layers of mud slung at us over the span of a lifetime.  It is slow and steady and if it were not, it would be a violation of the spirit, stripping us bare of our immunities (our defence mechanisms) far to rapidly for survival.  The Gap, the inbetween retreat time, that is when the exfoliation occurs and the cleansing and purging allow for bright new growth.  Light Shining Brilliance is the reward of being dipped periodically and than removed, from the acid.

Vulnerable Student

You can only be a teacher once you have been a student. This statement may seem rudimentary and yet, I find I am in the position of reminding myself of how much I have yet to learn.  As an adult learner, I resist this vulnerable feeling that goes with the old system of being subject (read student) to another (read teacher) teaching model and as I write, I recognize that being a student at my age is a choice, not a societal imposition.  There is no forcing or cajoling to my education, it is of my own choosing and resisting the lessons means I fail me.  I had lunch today with two people who shine the light and love of God from their eyes and who speak kindness and compassion with purity as the well spring of their words. I listened and in a moment of clarity realized that if I'm as smart as I think I am, I would choose to continue to listen and learn from theses very wise people who have experienced life with all of its upheavals and challenges with faithful tenacity.  The weak part of me wants to fane strength, to show the world that I have all the answers and I am a resource for many, a teacher in my own right. The strong part of me admits that I am weak, strong, learning, a teacher, a listener and a speaker, a student of life and an open vessel for God to work through with or without my human frailty, temptation, and ego driven words, attitudes and actions.  The more I believe in Thee, the less I believe in me~these words come from a Proclaimers song and they are my reminder to get out of my own way and follow God where he would lead.  Behind the scenes, love is working overtime, unnoticed and unpaid. Today I listened and heard and I'm a little wiser for it. This is dedicated to my new and delightful friends, Melanie and Glen Wade~You have inspired me and grown my faith. May the Light of Christ continue to shine on you and through you, much love to you both, Linda.

I Have Spoken

What greater poison can there be than resentment unleasshed?  It is toxic and rude and is the corner stone of a horror house of anger, bitterness, rage, jagged and rusty edges that threaten to cut and sever relationship, brutalizing the victim of its attention and attack. It is a silent brooding and boiling that festers and spills out of the lips of the resent filled, scalding innocent bystanders who unwittingly find themselves in the path of the sulphurous stench and burning vomit of a blackened heart.  Too late, too late is the sentiment when sitting stunned and realizing that getting out of the way wasn't an option and that the vileness of resentment has spilled onto me and I feel the distaste in my mouth, the bile of yuck over witnessing the self indulgence that resentment gives way to, the entitlement of complaint unwarranted, unkind, untrue and utterly unnecessary.  I have spoken. 

Washed Clean in the Dirt

I grew up with limited exposure to dirt. Getting dirty, messy, making a mess, these were the things that could get a child in my house into trouble. Clean is a statement about pride in self and environment, or at least, that is the message I learned~the translation for me is messy outside, messy inside. Nature was a far removed something I had no clue about, except of course when I heard the refrain "go outside and play". I didn't really know what that meant because I got the "don't get dirty or hurt" message so many times that I see myself in my minds eye as a stick child, one with limited movement and absolutely no connection to environment or people. Moving objects had no rhyme or reason, and were inexplicable to me. Learning that all things have energy, vibrate, move and are connected has been astounding, magical and wondrous.  Dirt is alive and has history stored in it, little stories of now and what was, it testifies to the grandness of life and it is from the dirt that you and I, according to the Bible, were formed. I have been getting dirty lately, sitting on the floor of horse stalls, touching and petting dirt encrusted dogs, cats, horses, picking apart crumbly clumps of dirt and seeing what hidden treasures wait to be discovered there...in the touching, I feel, in the dirt, I am washed clean.